Page 49 of You + Me – Against the World

I feel like my heart is about to explode. But Vadim doesn’t let go of me. Not even for a second.

When we reach my house, he finally slows down, lifts me off the ground, and sweeps me into his arms. I laugh until I can’t stop. I haven’t even had chance to catch my breath when he swoops in and kisses me. Our breathless laughter melts into a deep, passionate, kiss.

Have I ever been this happy?

My legs give out. I start to fall, pulling Vadim down with me. He catches me as best he can, pressing me against the gate. I find his mouth, he pushes his body against mine, and wrapped in the darkness, we burn, we consume each other until we lose our minds. Under the starry sky, he kisses me, I kiss him, and nothing else exists.

Then Vadim stops, sensing we’re losing control, and buries his face in my neck to collect himself.

“I was crazy to give you this perfume. It drives me insane. It suits you so well.”

“It’s you. You’re the one who suits me so well.”

Vadim sighs and rests his forehead against mine. His hands slide down my back until they come to rest at the small of my back.

“Alma, you have to promise me you won’t say anything. About what I told you tonight, and everything else. About Keith, Felix, my parents being dead. No one can know.”

“Never. I promise you.”

We embrace one last time, then finally separate, struggling to tear ourselves away from one another on this damn sidewalk. The border between our two worlds. I watch Vadim stride away down the road in the light of the streetlamps.

Then, I turn back toward the house. Basile is leaning out the living room window. Our eyes meet. His are cold, hard, and impenetrable. He doesn’t say a word. I don’t know how long he has been standing there. I have no idea what he saw or heard.

But tonight, I’m invincible.

That’s the Vadim Arcadi effect.

17

It’s Friday morning, and my heart feels light as I arrive at the university. My mind is buzzing, and my legs would probably dance if I wasn’t forcing them to walk normally. I have a crazy urge to yell how happy I am to the world.

A crowd has gathered in front of one of the buildings where classes are held. In the mass of people, I spot Clémentine, her hand over her mouth, looking as if she has seen a ghost—or is about to lose her breakfast. Timothy is there too, surrounded by his basketball buddies. They’re all laughing and punching each other in the shoulders as if they can barely contain their excitement. I try to push my way through the tightly packed mob of students to find out what’s going on.

Huge, dripping black graffiti covers the gray wall. “Mr. No-Family Arcadi” is the first phrase I manage to decipher. It hits me like a punch to the stomach. The second one: “Russian bastard seeks parents.” I ask a student standing next to me to move aside so I can read the rest. Each cruel word, each insult intensifies the pain. “Loser,” “Orphan,” “No one’s son,” “Go back to Russia.”

Vadim doesn’t deserve this.

Nobody deserves this.

My eyes blur. Stunned by what I’m reading, I don’t see him pushing his way through, crashing into everyone in his path. He smashes his fist into the concrete wall, but doesn’t seem to feel the slightest bit of pain. He runs his bloodied hand through his wild hair over and over, yelling, “Is this what you wanted?!” He doesn’t seem to be able to stop.

When his wild eyes finally meet mine, he charges straight toward me, pointing a bloodied finger in my face. “Was it you?” he demands, looking shaken. “Are you the one who told them, Alma? I trusted you! How could I have been so stupid?”

Vadim doesn’t give me time to answer. He’s already gone.

I run after him for a few steps, doing my best to catch up. He yanks his arm away when I manage to touch him and stops me in my tracks with a single look from his gray eyes, now dark as night. I stand there, rooted to the spot, paralyzed.

Everyone saw what just happened. Clémentine comes over to me and wraps her arms around me, as if she’s trying to shield me from their judgment. Tim approaches too, still followed by his puppets in their basketball jerseys.

“Ouch… I did warn you, Alma. That’s what happens when you hang out with bad boys.” He pretends to sympathize, but in reality, he is gloating.

“Shut up, Wallace. Go walk your mutts somewhere else,” Clem retorts, more fired up than ever.

My best friend pulls me away from the basketball players, who can’t stop smirking. We head to the restrooms. I shed a few tears, and my most precious ally quickly wipes them away.

What would I do without her?

Vadim isn’t answering any of my calls, and I wonder if I should skip class to go find him. Clem convinces me to attend Abrams’s class so that I stay out of trouble.