3
Vadim hasn’t come back.
No one is rocking on the abandoned chair at the back of the class, and the one next to me remains stubbornly empty, too.
All the other students are sitting in their pairs: excited, sulky, satisfied, scowling, rowdy—but all feverish after an intense hour.
I spent half of my time sparring with my partner, then the second half wondering where he was and what I was going to present to the teacher.
All in all, it’s a lively atmosphere in the classroom when Mr. Abrams appears once again, the nauseating scent of coffee and stale tobacco trailing behind him.
Perhaps it’s the smell, or maybe it’s the professor’s aura, but the room immediately falls silent.
His imposing presence makes me even more uneasy.
I stare nervously at the door and pray that it will soon be opened by a sullen Vadim, muttering something inaudible as an excuse for being late.
But there’s nothing. Not a single sound or movement, not even a few distant footsteps in the hallway to give me hope.
Just the silence of zealous students, eager to be called upon, and the teacher drawing out the suspense as he sizes us up with a curious and deliberately cruel eye.
We’re all going to crash and burn, starting with me. And I don’t even have an ally by my side.
Abrams begins doing the rounds with the unlikely Lee-McPherson duo, who take the first hit but don’t fare too badly overall.
“You’ve got an idea there, but no substance.
Dig deeper.” The Scott-Perkins pair is cut short due to Nicki’s simpering.
“Batting your eyelashes is not a theme. Less posing, more substance!” Clémentine almost passes with flying colors after letting her partner, the brilliant Hannah Goldberg, speak.
Hannah is five years older than us and has already been nicknamed Spielberg by the entire class.
“D’Aragon, you’ve distinguished yourself by your lack of contribution, which is something, I guess! ”
The presentations and the professor’s verdicts follow one after another. I, on the other hand, slowly melt into a puddle, desperately grasping for a brilliant idea—or at the very least, a valid excuse.
No, my grandmother couldn’t have died in the last hour… could she?
When all the other students have had their turn, I hunch in my chair, furious at Vadim, and disillusioned not only by him, but by myself and Tim.
I’m also mortified at the idea of disappointing Abrams. But as Clémentine shoots me what is meant to be an encouraging look, the professor skips my turn and moves on to a vibrant monologue about inspiration.
Then I’m saved by the bell. My classmates, struck with admiration, take their sweet time leaving the room, and I grab on the opportunity to slip toward the door. But a gravelly voice stops me dead in my tracks.
“Lancaster, not so fast. I don’t like seeing you turn in a blank page, but I like seeing you sneak away like a thief even less. Be honest! Did Arcadi cause trouble? Is he refusing to work with you?”
“No, no, Professor. We just couldn’t come to an agreement, that’s all. But we’re working on it.”
“Oh, so he sent you to the frontline all alone. What a gentleman!”
“Something came up. He had something important to do.”
“And I also don’t like it when you lie to me.
Why are you trying to cover for him? I’ll chalk it up to your upbringing, Lancaster, but you don’t have to defend everyone you meet.
You don’t owe him anything. So, stop sacrificing yourself!
Step out of the shadows. Believe me, you could be brilliant if you weren’t so dull! ”
Ouch. That one cuts deep.
I fight back the tears.
“I’m sorry, Professor.”
“And stop being sorry, for God’s sake! You apologize for merely existing!
I assigned you this partner to bring you out of your shell.
I know you’re up to the task. You radiate intelligence, creativity, and sensitivity.
Your potential is blindingly obvious, yet you’re the only one who doesn’t see it.
But if you don’t let it out, it will eat you from the inside out, slowly destroying you.
You didn’t end up here because you’re a Lancaster.
The film you submitted with your application was incredible. ”
“Thank you, Mr. Abrams.”
“Alma! Do you understand what I’m saying?
And call me Leonard, by the way. Politeness should be reserved for children and old people.
Express yourself! Free yourself! I want you to take up this challenge.
You’re going to assert yourself, impose yourself, tame Arcadi.
Because he is your greatest challenge. Not this short film.
Not this course. Not even your father’s pride. This is about your life!”
“Maybe, but I don’t know how,” I reply, my throat tight and my eyes flooded with tears.
“Let Vadim Arcadi shake you to your core. Knock you off balance. Challenge everything you believe in. And when you don’t know anything anymore, not even your own name, only then will you truly be able to exist. I want you to be as shaken your whole life as you are right now. Shaken, and capable of shaking others.”
“I’ll try, Professor… I want to try.”
“Here’s my phone number. Call me when nothing’s going right. That will be the best time to call. You’ve got no idea what awaits you… when you become who you truly are. Arcadi has already understood that. He’ll go far. And so will you, if you decide to take the right path!”
Suddenly, I no longer know if this man is a raving lunatic or some higher being giving me a glimpse of the truth.
I’m not sure if it’s that he has me figured out and believes in me to an astonishing degree or if he’s simply flattering me.
I’m also unsure if Vadim Arcadi can change me, or if I even want that to happen.
I like my life the way it is.
I mean, I think I do.
But all these possibilities make me dizzy.
I want to leave the room, run, scream with all my might in the middle of the campus, empty my lungs and my head.
I want to banish all my doubts. Instead, Mr. Abrams escorts me to the door and, seemingly exhausted by his impromptu little speech, sighs as he shows me out.
Once I’m back in the fresh air, I have a hard time believing what I just heard.
Clémentine pounces on me, bringing me back to earth. “What’s wrong? Did the professor go off on you?”
“Yeah, kind of.”
“Well, who cares? I’ve got something for you!”
“Oh?”
“Don’t you want to know what it is?”
“What is it?”
“Man, you suck at this! Come on, Alma, beg me!”
I just stare at her blankly.
“It’s from your Romeo…”
“What are you on about, Clem?”
“Here. He was looking for you. And he gave me this.”
If no one is keeping you on a tight leash tonight,
we could start over. Give it a go. Meet me at the Sunset. 10 p.m.
V.
I reread the message at least a dozen times in my head, as much to decipher Vadim’s illegible handwriting as to make sure of its contents.
It’s an invitation, scribbled in a hurry, in the style of a frustrated left-hander or possibly a first-grader, on a torn piece of paper.
Is this a date? Not in a million years. That would make no sense; he hates me.
A work meeting? But why would he want to meet at the Sunset Café, a loud, bustling place that’s always packed with college students?
Maybe it’s some kind of challenge? He wants people to see me with him so that Tim doesn’t win.
But why fold this scrap of paper up so small, as if it held the most shameful of secrets? Is Vadim Arcadi ashamed to make a move? To give the rich girl another chance, after being publicly humiliated by her boyfriend?
I shift my weight from one foot to the other, nervous, confused, and unable to take my eyes off the message.
“So, what does it say?” Clémentine presses me, having already shown infinite patience.
“That he wants to work on our assignment with me.”
“That’s it? Then why all the mystery?”
“Tonight. At ten o’clock at the Sunset.”
“Ooh, now I’m interested! Are you going to go?”
“Tim and his parents are coming over for dinner,” I reply in a flat tone.
“Do they live there or what? The Wallaces have dinner at your place three times a week!”
“Almost. Mondays and Thursdays normally.”
“Cancel, Alma! Tell them you can’t this time!”
“Right, and that I’m meeting a stranger in a bar at ten at night to do my homework…”
“But that’s the truth! You’re going there to work, right?”
“Like they’d believe me.”
“Well, come up with another excuse!”
“Anyway, I’m not allowed to go out during the week. I don’t see how I can manage this.”
“We’ll find a way! We still have the whole afternoon.”
“Can you think while you walk? We’re going to be late for our next class.”
“Wait, I haven’t eaten anything since last night. I’m going to pass out if we don’t eat first!”
“I saw you devour two Twix bars at eleven. You still have some chocolate, right there.” I laugh, pointing to her upper lip.
“That’s not true. I shared them with Andrew! Well, he asked me for a little piece and ended up swallowing the whole bar in one go. That was disappointing behavior. I’ve got no interest in marrying him anymore.”
Clem has never stood a chance with Andrew anyway, but she’s trying to make me smile, and it’s working.
We spend the rest of the afternoon whispering in class, scheming. Clem decides to call it “Operation Russia,” but by the end of our so-called summit we haven’t really come up with a solution, and I still can’t shake tonight’s meeting from my mind.
Worse yet, I can’t stop thinking about Vadim Arcadi.
I don’t even have his phone number to let him know I can’t make it. Standing him up would be worse than refusing him outright.
“He’ll take it as an insult, and that will be the end of our partnership,” I whisper to my ally.
But wouldn’t that also solve all my problems?
When the last class finally ends, I walk Clémentine back to her dorm, stretching out every possible minute before I have to go home and get ready.
I collapse onto her bed, worn out. Suddenly her red mane comes into view as I stare blankly at the ceiling. She’s jumped onto the bed, knees first, making the whole mattress bounce.
“I know!” she yells, inches from my face.
“Careful, my eardrums!”
“I’ve got it! Listen. Just go to dinner as usual. I’ll call you at around ten in a complete state—sobbing, furious, the works.”
“That’s something I know I can count on you to do convincingly.” I smile, absentmindedly twisting a strand of her hair. “And then what?”
“Well, who comes to comfort me when I’m heartbroken, depressed, and alone in the world? My BFF, of course! You have to come and cheer me up right away, because you’re all I’ve got in the U.S. Get it?”
“I get it. Now breathe.”
I hug her.
“But you will come, won’t you?”
“Of course. For you, always. But my dad is going to want to drive me…”
“Tell him I’m too upset, that I don’t want to see anyone except you. Your place is only a fifteen-minute walk from here!”
“We can try, I guess. But you’re going to put on a good performance, right? I mean, the whole thing: tears, shouting, makeup running down your face and snot everywhere. Just in case things don’t go as planned and someone comes with me.”
She nods.
“Let’s say it would take about an hour to calm you down. I’ll have time to go to the Sunset Café, spend half an hour with Vadim, and get back home.”
I sit up, then jump to my feet, my legs suddenly light and my weariness gone. I plant a long, loud kiss on my favorite person’s cheek and head home.