Page 43 of You + Me – Against the World

“Yes, there is. I’d rather be there to remind him he doesn’t get to do whatever he wants.”

“As if Mr. Abrams would be intimidated by you and your perfectly pressed, navy-blue polo shirt!”

“Oh, you are both so tiring. That’s it, it’s settled then. Basile will drive you. End of discussion,” my father concludes, before turning back to what he was doing.

My brother is gloating—I can see it in his smug expression, in the way his lips curl into a smirk. He thinks he’s cornered me.

I only have a few minutes to find a way out of this. Either I tell Basile the whole truth once we’re in the car, crying my eyes out and hoping he agrees to play along—which will never happen—or I tell my parents that Abrams cancelled and let Vadim know I can’t come. Which will ruin all my life plans for at least the next fifty years. Last option: I sketch out my half-baked plan to my professor and pray that he’ll cover for me, in the name of either our special relationship or his devotion to the sacred principle of freedom. Either way, I’m backed into a corner. This is the last card I have left to play.

With a superhuman effort, I build up the courage to call him and invite myself over to his place, risking the greatest humiliation of my entire life. I dial the number Abrams scribbled for me on a small piece of paper. Locked in my room, I listen as the phone rings for what seems like an eternity. Then, finally, a gravelly voice answers, and I try to speak very softly.

“Good evening, Mr. Abrams, it’s Alma Lancaster. I’m sorry to bother you, but you told me I could call you anytime.”

“Yes, no problem,” he grunts, clearing his throat. “How can I help you, Alma?”

“This might seem weird to you, but… I won’t bother you for long. I wouldn’t do this if I had a choice. Anyway, I apologize in advance, but I need a small favor.”

“God almighty, get to the point, would you?”

“I’d like to come over to your place. Right now.”

“Hmm… You do realize I could get into trouble for that. May I ask why?”

“I’d rather explain it to you in person than on the phone.”

“Very well, I’ll see you soon then.”

“Ah, and my brother will be with me. I’d prefer if he didn’t stay around.”

“All this is very intriguing, Alma.”

Less than thirty minutes later, I enter Leonard Abrams’s smoky den.

Having clearly understood me implicitly, he sends Basile packing without ceremony, slamming the door in my scowling brother’s face.

My professor stubs out his cigarette in an overflowing ashtray and peers at me over his thin metal glasses. I’d never noticed before that his eyes are blue. He looks a bit like Sean Penn with his solemn, perpetually worried face, eyebrows that nearly meet and crease his forehead, and thin lips curved downward as if everything leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. As if life itself disgusts him. He has the hollow cheeks of a man who lives mostly on tobacco and coffee. A hint of rough stubble, not yet three days old, but clearly not cultivated for effect. Mr. Abrams obviously couldn’t care less about being attractive. I’m not even sure he knows he is. He isn’t very tall or particularly burly, but he takes up an enormous amount of space simply by being there, without moving or speaking.

His presence fills the room. But I feel no discomfort, not a single trace of inappropriate attraction, no hint of anything improper between us. I simply make myself as small as possible, perched on the edge of the old, ocher leather armchair he indicated.

He sits in silence, waiting for answers, and I’ve run out of fabrications. All that’s left is for me to tell him the truth. And risk making a complete fool of myself.

“I pretended I had to see you as an excuse to go out tonight. I have a date at eight o’clock.”

“You’re late then.”

“I know. He’ll survive.”

“So, is it Vadim Arcadi who’s waiting for you?”

“How do you know that?”

“I didn’t know it. Now I do. What did you say to explain why you’re spending the evening at my place? Is this going to cause problems for me?”

“No! Of course not! Well, I hope not. You were looking for a student to assist you, and I volunteered. That’s all.”

“That’s an excellent idea!”

“Huh?”