Page 24 of You + Me – Against the World

“That’s easy for you to say.” He pulls his head back so I can’t touch him. “I fought all by myself in class this morning. Abrams blamed everything on me. He was relentless, and you didn’t say a word.”

“Vadim, I just didn’t know what to say.”

“Abrams disrespected you too, and you didn’t react. You’re afraid of everything, Alma,” he murmurs, and something twists in my chest. “Afraid of me, afraid of him… even afraid of yourself.”

I fight back my tears—and my urge to disappear.

“Well, I also feel like I’m constantly fighting,” I whisper. “With myself. Against my shyness, my sensitivity, my upbringing that’s locked me into this tiny box I’m not supposed to step out of. Do you think it’s easy to speak up when you’ve only ever been taught to stay quiet?”

Leaning against the opposite wall, the light from the streetlamp illuminating his dark silhouette, Vadim listens to me attentively, watching me in silence. I can’t read his expression. It scares me, though. I’m petrified that he and I will just end right here. My shell is cracking. I’m cold without his arms around me.

“You know, I wish I had been born with your courage, your strength, and your boldness, Vadim. That’s what I admire, what I like most about you.”

“That’s all I was born with.”

“So, teach me.”

Our eyes speak in silence for a few long, drawn-out seconds.

I’m on a tightrope, suspended between this guy I can’t stop thinking about and the void.

“Why are you crying, Alma?”

His voice softens, freeing the words I’ve kept bottled up inside me.

“I’m not afraid of you, you know? I’m afraid of liking this. I’m afraid of loving you…”

He stares at me, speechless.

“You see, Arcadi? For you, I can be gutsy.”

I no longer know if I’m crying or laughing.

Vadim runs a hand over the back of his neck and tousles his hair. He looks at me, hesitates, then finally speaks.

“What am I going to do with you, Lancaster?” A faint smile tugs at his lips. “I loved last night, too. I felt like I caught a glimpse of the real Alma, not the good girl hiding behind her daddy. Last night, I saw the Alma who told me to get lost the first time we talked. The one who stands up to me and refuses my jacket even when she’s cold. The one who never agrees with me. The one who only asks me the right questions. The one who kisses me when I don’t expect it. The one who understands what others don’t. I don’t want you to change. I just want you to truly be yourself. Like yesterday. Whole, free, with no filter, with no limits—”

I don’t let him finish. I leap from the couch and dig my fingers into his hair, pressing my face to his. Kissing him like the first time. No, harder. Kissing him again, as if my life depended on it.

No one has ever painted such a portrait of me. No one has seen that Alma.

I don’t want him to say another word. I just want him to hold me, to kiss me, to touch me—for there to be only the two of us in this world. I’m longing to melt into him, so we’re no longer on opposite sides.

Vadim groans into my mouth as he kisses me back. He pins me against the wall, and the whirlwind carries us away. Kissing him is suddenly no longer enough. The force drawing us together overwhelms me. My hands slide under his T-shirt, and the touch of his warm, super-soft skin sends a tremor through my body. I don’t know how to stop anymore. I don’t want to. I kiss his neck, intoxicated by his scent. His hands roam around my hips, my waist, my back, skimming my butt, then return to my face. He brushes away my hair, then pulls away from my mouth to look at me and breathes, “Alma…”

“Don’t stop.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s my first time.”

“You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

His husky voice betrays a gentleness that stops me in my tracks. I suddenly have the strange certainty that he was put on this planet just for me.

“I want to, Vadim.”

“Are you afraid?”