43
Vadim’s warnings have done nothing to deter Clémentine, who is totally swept up in her new relationship.
She dashes off as soon as classes end and returns in the early hours of the morning; her face tired but smiling, dark circles under her shining eyes.
I don’t really have a best friend anymore, but I know she is happy, and that means everything to me—I was so afraid that she would one day blame me for our rushed departure to the United States.
At least she is living her American dream.
And she’s certainly not doing it by halves.
As for me, I no longer have any irritating admirers. I haven’t heard from Caleb in two weeks, and Tim makes a point to ignore me on campus. If I set aside Mr. Abrams, who no longer speaks to me except to viciously criticize my work, there is only one person left blocking my path.
The winding, rocky path, full of arduous hills, steep slopes, and insurmountable obstacles, that leads me to Vadim Arcadi.
***
The person in question has the longest, shiniest hair I have ever seen in my life.
The darkest, hardest eyes that could possibly belong to a human being.
The most defined muscles and the most perfectly proportioned curves I’ve ever seen on a woman’s body.
This person also has the confidence I wish I had, the nerve I sometimes lack, and the cold detachment of a surgeon, plus she is capable of acting with the kind of easy familiarity guys have when they meet for the first time.
Her only flaw, if she has one, has got to be her lack of composure. I don’t think she controls her emotions as well as she would like.
At least, that’s the impression Cheyenne gives me when I gather all my courage and approach her one evening, without telling Vadim.
I ask her for a one-on-one conversation, a private meeting whose time and place no one else can know.
Looking me in the eye, she accepts without blinking once and without smiling.
When I see her the next day, at the entrance to the park she chose as our meeting place, the wind is ruffling her hair, and she appears to be even more beautiful than I remembered.
The rolled hems on her denim shorts aren’t the same on each leg, and I wonder whether it’s an intentional style choice or just a detail she couldn’t care less about.
Whatever the reason, it just makes me admire her more.
Her loose, heather-gray tank top, worn without a bra, makes her look both casual and effortlessly charming.
But what really stands out is how she looks me straight in the eyes with every step she takes, not caring for a second that she’s making me uncomfortable.
Cheyenne doesn’t care about social conventions. Or maybe she has simply chosen not to follow them.
“Hi, Emma.”
“It’s Alma.”
“I know. I just wanted to see if you’d correct me this time.”
She doesn’t smile, but her eyes sparkle.
“I respond better to people who are wearing clothes,” I retort.
“Ah, that’s right, you didn’t really find my little joke funny.”
“I still have a hard time believing it was a joke. That’s actually why I’m here.”
“Honest, direct: I like that. Should we sit?”
I head toward the nearest bench, but—clearly thinking she can get me to do whatever she wants—she chooses the lawn a few feet away instead. She drops down onto it with a “do whatever you want, but I’m not moving” attitude that forces me to follow.
You have to pick your battles.
I sit cross-legged, while she stretches out full length, her arms and legs spread wide like a star, her eyes closed as she soaks up the April sun. I twirl some blades of grass between my fingers, then take the plunge, though it doesn’t come out the way I had planned.
“I wanted to talk to you about Vadim. About Vadim and me.”
How articulate, Emma…
“What’s that got to do with me?” Cheyenne sits up to face me.
“I don’t know what you were hoping for that night when you showed up at his place, but I want to make sure it doesn’t happen again. Ever.”
This time, the message gets through.
“And I’m supposed to follow your rules just to keep you happy, Al-ma?” She emphasizes my name, then lets out a mean, little laugh.
I have the feeling she’s trying to get under my skin, but I know how to control myself better than she does.
“No, out of respect. Vadim told me that it was something you value. So, I would like you to respect me. To respect the fact that we are a couple and that there are enough people who have tried to separate us without you trying as well.”
“Hmm… like Beauty and the Beast? Jasmine and Aladdin? Impossible love, that kind of thing?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t like me very much, do you?”
“You haven’t exactly made a strong case for yourself.”
Her smile reveals her beautiful teeth.
“I didn’t want to believe it, but he told me you can be pretty quick with a comeback.”
“He isn’t the type to lie about people.”
“Vadim is really in love with you, you know? There aren’t many guys who would defend their girlfriend when they could just laugh stupidly at other people’s jokes instead.”
“Yes, and that’s why I don’t want to lose him.” I whisper those last few words, and cracks start to show in my armor.
“He’s your soulmate. No one can steal him from you.” The brunette sighs, then lies down again.
“Do you believe what you just said?”
“What do you think, Princess?”
Hearing that stupid nickname, I groan.
“I find it funny calling you that… and I enjoyed scaring you the other night. Well-mannered girls from respectable families aren’t my thing. They are born with privileges I’ll never have, even if I work like crazy. So maybe I overdid it a bit.”
She admits she was out of line, but doesn’t stoop to apologizing. Her audacity makes me smile.
“You tried your luck, Cheyenne. Now, you can back off.”
“I don’t take orders from anyone, Alma. But it’s pretty brave of you to come tell me all this. You know, defend your territory and try to eliminate your rival. You’re almost going up in my estimation.”
She sneers a little as she says it, and I mimic her when I reply.
“Am I supposed to say thank you?”
“Nope. But I like determined girls like you, even when they look like fragile, little sparrows. Your man is like a magnet for them, so you’d still better keep an eye on him. And don’t forget that, sooner or later, a guy’s demons will always catch up with him.”
“Thanks for the advice. I’ve got some for you, too: I know you like to act like you’re not afraid of anything, but perhaps you’d find your own soulmate if you tried to be a little less intimidating.”
I smile at her one last time, get up, and walk away without looking back. I leave her there, lying in the grass, and tell myself that I might have just opened a crack in her armor. Made her think. Softened her. It’s probably not true, but it’s good for my pride.