Page 135 of His to Own

I can feel Maxim looking at me. “Alexei?”

“Polina –,” I start to say but she continues talking.

“I can’t believe he won the internship,” she grumbles. “He’s not even a good writer. I swear, Professor Burgov is just a sexist pig.”

“Alexei won the internship?” Maxim asks in his eerily calm voice.

“Yes,” Polina says to him. “Did Elena not tell you?”

I shoot a look at Polina but she doesn’t seem to get the message. She continues to ramble on about how Alexei didn’t deserve the win.

“Polina,” I snap. “Please. Enough. I just want to move on.”

“Fine,” she grumbles with a pout.

I turn to Maxim and see that he’s already looking at me. “I didn’t tell you.”

“Clearly. I thought we were past hiding things from each other.”

“I told you I didn’t win. I didn’t want you to know it was Alexei because…”

He huffs. “Because you thought I’d go and kill him. Is that it?”

“Wouldn’t you? You tend to solve problems that way.”

“And you were all right with it when it was your professor. Or when it was Sergei or Mikhail.”

“Would you shut up?” the woman reading the short story snaps. “I’m trying to read here.”

I flush and go quiet. Maxim grits his teeth. Lana and Nikolai share an uncomfortable look. Polina continues to mutter about Alexei under her breath.

Once the woman is finished reading, it’s my turn. She shoots me a glare as she walks past.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

She ignores me.

My legs feel unsteady as I walk towards the stage. The other people in the room all wait patiently. Politely.

I stand before the microphone. The lights pointed at the stage are blinding. How was Lana able to dance on a stage without being able to see?

I was never made to be a dancer and that’s ok. It’s fine that Lana and I have differences. The person who made me feel bad about those differences was our father. He has to be out of my life now, especially after what I did to him.

“Hello,” I say into the mic. Everyone stares at me. Waiting. My head feels woozy. Darkness starts to creep in but I push it away. No. I am not going to pass out. I am going to read my poem and I am going to feel proud of myself.

“My poem is titled The Red Balloon.” I open my mouth to start reading when my eyes flick to the doorway. That’s when I see my mother and younger sister enter.

Lana notices and greets them with a confused smile. I can’t fully hear what they’re saying from here. But they came. Did they come to support me? What other reason would there be?

I clear my throat and my mother turns her attention to me. She offers me a small nod. Adriana gives me a thumbs up. I’m sure my younger sister is just happy to be included.

“I’ll begin,” I say. And I read the poem. The one about feeling left out in my family. About the innocence of childhood and how that can all change in an instant.

I read the entire poem without missing a beat. I even make sure to add emotion to my voice to make the poem come alive. An actress for just a moment. But it’s not even acting. It’s all real – this emotion. Every bit of it.

And then I finish it. The poem ends with a sense of hope for the future. A goodbye to my old life as I enter this new one. Flying into the sky like a red balloon.

When I end it, the audience claps. Adriana gives me a loud cheer, making me blush. Maxim joins in and they whoop and holler for me. The other people in the room all stare at my husband and sister like they’re crazy, which I guess they are in some ways.