Page 2 of You + Me – Against the World

I give Vadim a sarcastic thumbs-up, as if to say that I find him hilarious, and at that moment I catch the amused look of my friend Clémentine, a Frenchwoman through and through. She couldn’t care less about her terrible accent, just as she couldn’t care less about a lot of other things. She doesn’t miss much either, so she’s probably already picked up on the tension simmering between Vadim and me. We’ve exchanged five sentences, and we’re already butting heads.

But there’s more to it than that.

I don’t really know why, but I’m intrigued by Vadim. He’s a puzzle, and I want to understand what makes him tick. The guy unsettles me, yet I have this urge to please him. I’m attracted to him, but at the same time I feel like running for my life.

This is the first time I’ve seen him shake off his dark, brooding persona to crack a joke. In fact, it’s the first time he’s spoken to me—although I don’t think I’ve actually ever seen him talk to anyone, except when he challenges the teachers, who do their best to assert their authority over him, and all the girls on campus who have succumbed to his charms, but to whom he has apparently promised nothing. Word gets around here. For the past month, there’s been a rumor going around that this loner has no problem luring girls from the university to his bachelor pad around the corner.

He doesn’t burden himself with friends, just the occasional acquaintance whose company he tolerates. Unlike many of us, he doesn’t need to surround himself with people to prove he exists.

The college boys are afraid of him, feigning contempt so they don’t have to confront him. As for the girls, when it comes to Arcadi, they tend to fall into one of three groups. There are the heartbroken ones who’ve already been rejected. They usually continue to pursue him, but he politely lets them down, using the same charm offensive that made them fall for him in the first place. This means they end up becoming even more obsessed. Then, there are the confident ones who brazenly try to catch his attention and whom he pretends to ignore until he discreetly sets his sights on one of them. And finally, there are the shy ones—like me—who have never dared speak to him, either because they’re too afraid of that one indifferent glance that signals rejection or because he isn’t part of their world, and their upbringing prevents them from crossing that line.

Of course, I had already noticed Vadim Arcadi.

At eighteen, I’ve already seen a lot, thanks to my parents’ many relocations and travels, but I don’t think I’ve ever come across a boy so strikingly good-looking. Guys our age often like to act the rebel, but Vadim has absolutely nothing in common with them. He’s so self-possessed, as if he alone knows the secrets of our existence.

He likes to come across as a slacker, but his passion for cinema is greater than all of ours combined. And in this university, where most students come from a wealthy background, he stands out, without complaining about it or trying to hide it. No one knows much about him, but everyone gets the impression that life has already taken a toll on him.

He lives alone, regularly skips classes for activities we know nothing about, drives a dilapidated pickup truck that doesn’t have any of the charm of vintage American cars, and his only family is a tall, muscular Black man who often visits him on campus. There’s a lot about Vadim Arcadi that sparks curiosity.

Though he doesn’t realize it, he also sparks jealousy among the young people here, with their overly polished and orderly lives.

Of which I am the perfect example.

2

I don’t know how Vadim found out that I’m half English, half French. He isn’t the type to ask questions about others. When he does, he’s as discreet as he is about his own mysterious private life. And I’m not the type to put myself on display. Being a little secretive is perhaps our only common trait.

Just two months ago, I was living in an affluent neighborhood in Paris with my family. I graduated from high school with honors, and thanks to that, my parents gave me a one-year reprieve from their demands for my future.

For me, making movies is a dream. For my parents, it’s just a phase.

In any case, they agreed to pay for me to attend this film school in Los Angeles—the best there is. One of the Lancaster family mottos is that you either do things properly or not at all. My father took the opportunity to accept a job in California that will be great for his career, and my brother was able to continue his college studies in English, which fits in perfectly with his plans for the future. Since we hadn’t moved in a few years, my mother and sister were happy to follow. So, we all relocated this summer.

My father, Edward, an English aristocrat turned real estate magnate, owns agencies all over Europe and the United States. He’s built a network of friends around the globe, which opens just about every door for him. He’s the classic absent father, demanding but loving. The kind you don’t want to disappoint. For as long as I can remember, I’ve bent over backwards to please him.

I admire and fear my father in equal measure.

My mother—the quintessential upper-class French woman in all her splendor, with a taste for luxury and boundless affection—is a housewife and has been following her spouse wherever he has gone for the past twenty years. She enthusiastically supports his wildest projects, putting up with his absence in exchange for the comfortable lifestyle he offers her. She is a devoted wife. A doting mother. A quiet pillar who holds the family together, resolves conflicts, soothes sorrows, and sacrifices herself for everyone’s happiness.

I love my mother as much as I pity her.

My older brother, Basile, is following in my father’s footsteps. At twenty, he has no worries about his future. Between his marketing classes, where he thinks he already knows everything, he has plenty of time to make other people’s lives miserable. So far, he’s shown no sign of stopping to reflect on who he really is, beyond what’s expected of him as the son of a respectable family.

My big brother frustrates me, but I do have a soft spot for him.

As for my little sister, Lily, she’s twelve years old. My parents had her later in life, because my mother was bored and my father thought it was in his best interest to prove to his wife that he loved her, despite everything, and cared more about his family than his business. Different in every way from her brother and sister, this child came as a big surprise for the Lancasters. Completely lacking discipline, a fearless, free-spirited artist at heart who is indifferent to family pressures, she has an innate joy for life flowing through her veins. She’s the family’s wild child and always gets everything she wants.

I envy my sister, but I find her tiring at the same time.

Anyway, now I have exactly one year to prove I’m meant to work in film, that I can carve out a place for myself and make a name in this industry. That I can do far better than the family wedding and Christmas movies I’ve been making since I received my first camera. One school year to prove it, before my father sends me back to France to learn a “real” profession… or my mother suggests I marry a young man who will provide for me, so I won’t have to pursue any career other than that of wife and mother. I respect those who make that choice, but it’s not the life I want for myself.

“You don’t like being judged, but that’s exactly what you’re doing to me right now, isn’t it?” I snap at Vadim. “You don’t know me.”

I try to hold his hostile gaze.

“Who says I want to know you?”

“Well, you’re going to have to work with me, whether you like it or not.”