Page 20 of You + Me – Against the World

“It’s going to be okay, Alma…”

“You think so?”

I’m scared. Scared that the whole campus will find out what I did. Scared that I’ll be sent back to France. Scared of never seeing Vadim again. Scared of myself. Scared of him.

I had been on cloud nine, and the fall back to earth is brutal.

I force myself to head to class, wearing Clémentine’s slightly-too-big jeans and a gray college hoodie of hers that I can hide away in.

After downing a matcha and polishing off a pack of cookies, my friend is her usual smiling and energetic self once again. She links her arm through mine and repeats in my ear, like a cult leader, that everything is going to be okay. That what happened to me is great. That I’m living the American dream… It’s just a little more Russian.

We join the others in front of Mr. Abrams’s classroom; he’s apparently running late.

I spot Vadim among the students, slightly taller, slightly apart from the group, so different. Our eyes meet, but nothing happens. Not a smile or wink—not any kind of sign. Not even a tiny nod in my direction. Nothing.

How can his lack of a reaction break my heart like this?

Vadim looks away and seems to scan the horizon, his face impassive, his gaze tense. His mysterious, brooding air, which was so seductive yesterday, hurts me this morning.

I continue to watch him discreetly, hiding behind Clem, who knows exactly what I’m up to and has the good sense not to stop me. She just watches me fidget like a nutcase with the sleeves of her hoodie, as if I’m about to poke holes in it.

I see someone approach and realize that’s who Vadim has been looking out for. And I understand the expression on his face better when I realize this must be his caseworker. Keith, I think. He’s a brawny guy, his muscles straining against his white tee. Yet he has a gentle gaze, well-proportioned features, and a slow, steady gait. He seems more reassuring than intimidating to me.

A faint smile appears on his face, but Vadim doesn’t look like he’s in the mood for jokes. They greet each other without much warmth and immediately launch into a conversation. Well, Keith is the one doing all the talking, while Vadim just nods. At least a hundred times. Keith jots something down in a small notebook he’s fished out of his pocket, pats Vadim on the shoulder, and leaves.

“Check out that butt,” drools Clem, who can’t help turning around and staring.

She really doesn’t have a discreet bone in her body.

I’m not really listening, though. Vadim is walking straight toward me.

“What are you looking at?”

“Nothing. You.”

He half-smiles, eyes fixed on his shoes.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I missed a meeting with Mama Keith last night. He wasn’t happy at all. I just got scolded like a little kid.”

“Sorry. I didn’t know.”

“How could you have known?”

“You should have told me. We could have—”

“What for? It’s got nothing to do with you, Lancaster.”

Vadim shrugs, and his coldness pierces my heart. I naively thought that last night had rocked his world the way it did mine, but now he’s acting as if it never happened. It hits me that he must have done this dozens of times, with lots of other girls—and that I stepped right into the trap. He just wanted to make me fall for him. I was his little challenge for the night.

How could I have been so stupid?

Clémentine sees the state I’m in and comes to my rescue. “And you didn’t think to introduce me to your… Mama Keith? I hope that’s not his real name, by the way.”

Vadim doesn’t answer her, but Mr. Abrams arrives then anyway, his rumpled jacket tucked under his arm, grumbling something about a parking spot.

“Inside! Quickly! You’d better not waste my time today. I need you to be brilliant!”