6. Mikhail
Chapter six
Mikhail
Professor Manning ends the lecture, and the students stand. I'm quick to toss my books in my backpack, but Tatiana's faster and is out of her seat, stomping up the stairs to confront Lev.
Shit.
I rush behind her to stop what she might do to him.
He deserves everything coming his way, but I need to protect them both.
People are already watching to see what's going to go down, and after Lev's scene earlier, Tati will be more embarrassed if she causes another one.
But she's hot-headed right now, and used to getting her way, so I'm not sure she's thinking straight.
She needs a place where she can fall apart without an audience.
If her parents got wind of a possible embarrassment to the family name, or that she was caught publicly fighting with her guards, they would pull her from school. Her father couldn't care less about her, but her mother will use any excuse to bring her home.
"You sukin syn," she whisper-shouts at him. Son of a bitch.
I grip her by the arm gently, before pulling her into the hallway and dragging her behind me, opening door after door until I find an empty classroom. I gently pull her inside, knowing Lev will follow. He has no choice.
"In here, Tanyusha," I say quietly. I have a cochlear implant that lets me hear, but I don't really like anyone hearing my "deaf voice" but Tatiana.
She's always said she loves my "accent" because it's uniquely me.
I don't know if she's just being sweet about something I don't have any control over or if she means it. I think she means it.
Lev follows behind us, wearing a shit-eating grin that this Bratva princess is about to wipe off of his face.
The man's an idiot. A reckless, hot-headed, hopeless idiot.
"Why would you do that!?" she shouts, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration, spinning and pacing up and down the small classroom.
"They were talking shit about you behind your back! Why won't you stand up for yourself!" he shouts back. He should know he needs to back down, apologize, and deescalate the situation. But that would require him to admit he was wrong. I'm not sure he knows how to do that.
"I don't care! I don't care what anyone thinks! I don't care if they think Mik and I have slept together!"
Oh, no. Her breathing is speeding up; she runs a hand through her hair, and her hands are shaking. I think she might be on the edge of a panic attack.
I stand between them, trying to calm them both down with my body language.
"I just want to have a normal college experience! Even if that includes bullying, Lev! It's not normal to have bodyguards. It's not normal to cause a scene! It's not normal to call out mean girl behavior!"
Oh. Poor Tati wants to be the lead character in her own rom-com. Lev's dark brown eyes meet mine as he has the same realization.
Angry tears start to fall down her cheeks, and I can't stand them.
The sight of them makes my skin crawl and my chest ache to fix it.
I pull her to my arms and let her bury her face in my chest. Her vanilla lavender scent fills my nostrils and creates a familiar burn in my stomach.
It's her. It's some heady combination of her creams, hair conditioner, and perfume that is all signature Tatiana.
The urge to say 'fuck it' and drag her mouth to mine is as familiar as breathing.
But I can't.
I won't.
I can love her and keep her from ever finding it, if it means keeping our friendship safe.
I'm obviously not 'the one' for her, even if she's 'the one' for me.
She's never looked at me as anything more than a friend.
All of the years I've been standing right in front of her, hearts in my eyes, she's never seen it.
So, when I hold her in my arms tonight and drift to sleep, I'll imagine a life in which she's mine, and I'm hers.
Where I'm able to take her away from her shitty family, and give her the life she wants.
Where I'll romance her, wine and dine her, even though I have no money of my own.
I'll take her on grand adventures, like riding from Lima to Machu Picchu on horseback, or the Mongolian horse races.
I'll raise our children while she shows her art off in galleries around the world.
I could write an encyclopedia of all of the ways I would love her - worship her.
She's not sobbing, but I can tell she's trying to regulate her breathing.
I stare Lev down, who's leaning his ass against the teacher's table, legs crossed at the ankle, arms crossed across his chest. He glares right back at me, but I've been around him long enough to know he's probably more pissed at himself than anyone else.
He's vibrating with anger, and I know this isn't the right time to push anyone here. They both need time to calm down.
"Why don't we skip algebra and head to the barn early? Nothing like horse therapy to calm us all down, right?" Driving her to the barn will give him something to do, and time apart while she rides will be good for both of them. Then I can pull him aside and tell him to fucking apologize.
I know it feels like a big deal to her right now, but by this weekend, when every sorority and fraternity has their parties, and people hook up with other people, drama will happen and Lev's little outburst in the History of Fine Arts will be long forgotten.
She nods sadly against my chest, grips my baggy sleeve, and wipes her nose with it.
I can't help the laugh that bubbles out of my chest at the perfectly ridiculous thing she just did, and how so Tati it was.
She still reminds me of the young girl who found me some days - all innocence and sweetness.
And I like how she just knew I wouldn't mind walking around with her snot on my sleeve.
I'm still laughing when she looks up at me, her blue eyes glassy with tears, but we're pressed together, chest to chest. I like how much taller than her I am, how I can look down at her when she's wrapped in my arms. How I can see every freckle that peppers her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.
The freckles that sometimes she accentuates with fake ones made out of makeup, and other times she tries to hide them.
But my smile falls when her lips tip up, pleased with my laughter. We're face to face - inches away from each other. It would be nothing to dip my head and finally kiss her. I'd place my thumb at her chin and press my lips to hers. It would be the easiest and most devastating thing I've ever done.
Would she kiss me back? Would she be disgusted? Would she be devastated? I don't want her to think I'm only a male friend who is sticking around until she gives in and gives me more. I know she knows we're not like that, but what if she doubts our friendship or my motives?
Luckily, Lev clears his throat, clearly picking up the danger of the moment, and I drop my arms.
"Let's go to the barn," I say, looping my arm in hers, and we do just that.