Page 90 of You + Me – Against the World

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

If I talk about it, I’ll fall apart.

“Basile, it’s nice of you to come see me, but… do you mind leaving me alone?”

“If that’s what you want. But one day, I reckon we’re going to have to talk about the fact that we never talk.”

He heads for the door, and the sight of him is touching, somehow. His lanky, awkward body, his little-boy haircut, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his secret. As he grabs the door handle, the words spill out of me before I can stop them.

“I saw you the other night. By the gym.”

He turns around in slow motion, his face pale.

“With Zach Powell,” I breathe.

“What exactly did you see?”

“You know what I saw. And I don’t care, Basile. You can kiss whoever you want, meet whoever you want in the middle of the night, but you should have told me. You might be less of a pain if you were a little happier.” I smile at him as best as I can.

“Oh, just look at you! Giving me lectures on happiness when your nose is all stuffed up and you’re crying your eyes out!” His voice wavers somewhere between panic and laughter.

“I just wanted to tell you that it’s not a problem that you’re gay. Or bi. Or whatever you are. It doesn’t change anything for me. Actually, it makes me proud of you. But I know it must be hard to deal with, you know, because of Tim and the rest of the gang…”

“Oh, I don’t give a damn about them. They’ve only got one brain cell between the five of them. And I’m not the first gay guy in college. But if Dad finds out…”

“We don’t know how he would react though, do we? And anyway, he can’t decide for us, Basile! Aren’t you tired of him dictating your behavior? Putting so much pressure on you all the time?”

“I am. But who am I without him?” he sighs, sad and weary. “I’m supposed to carry on the legacy, follow in his footsteps—”

“You are you,” I interrupt. “Basile Lancaster. And you have the right to be whoever you want. To love whoever you want. And so do I. If Dad disinherits both of us, we won’t die from it.”

“So, that’s your plan then? To live your life however you want?”

“Something like that.”

“And you couldn’t have chosen a guy slightly less polarizing than Arcadi to prove your point?”

I stick my tongue out at him, and he copies me, like when we were five and six years old.

“In case you’ve forgotten, you’re dating a basketball coach ten years older than you!”

“Eight. And he’s not exactly the only one…”

After dropping this little bombshell, he rushes out of my room.

“What? Basile! Come back here!”

My brother, a player?

I hear my phone vibrating in my purse, which is lying where I abandoned it on the floor near my bed.

Vadim.

Feeling little feverish, I answer after a few rings.

“Alma?”

“Vadim?”