Page 142 of You + Me – Against the World

“Make yourself at home, my little Clémentine. Do whatever you want,” says our housekeeper, as she watches my childhood best friend whirl around the kitchen.

“That,” Basile says, “is her way of saying ‘I know you’re going to turn my kitchen into a disaster zone, but do I really have a choice? And in the end, I’m going to have to cook anyway, to make up for your botched attempt.’”

“Thanks for the translation! By the way, have you ever touched a saucepan in your life, Lancaster Junior?”

“Alright, guys! We decided it was Georgia’s day off. Let’s order pizza!”

***

Good manners fly out the window. Gone are formal dinners at the table that begin at a set time. The Lancaster house suddenly starts to feel like a vacation rental shared by a group of friends—something that has never happened before. I realize this must occur regularly in many households and that perhaps I haven’t had a childhood quite like everyone else’s. I feel like a girl who has just arrived at summer camp and doesn’t know if she should behave like she always does at home, or whether she’s finally allowed to swear and be everything she usually isn’t. A girl who also wonders if the good-looking, silent boy standing behind her will dare to break the ice.

“So, you invited me over, did you, Lancaster?”

“So, you were waiting outside my door like a poor, little, abandoned kitten, were you?”

That smile. I could die for that smile.

He stands in front of me, and suddenly, we’re face to face. He still doesn’t say anything, but his hands slide very slowly around my waist. His exquisite face, unreadable and impassive, moves a little closer, and I feel my breath quicken. In the distance, I can vaguely hear my brother laughing with Isaac and Clem, but my ears are ringing.

Vadim parts his lips. I don’t know whether he’s about to speak or kiss me.

After giving him the cold shoulder for so long, I’d almost forgotten how good this felt. Nothing in the world makes me feel as good as this. Feeling him against me.

If only he would move just a little bit closer…

“Alright, I want a Hawaiian!” Clémentine bursts in like a tornado, making us jump.

“Wouldn’t you rather go to Hawaii, right now?” Vadim suggests, annoyed. “I’ve heard there’s a great hotel, the Mahoe, run by a guy just as annoying as you.”

She flips him off with relish, then turns toward me.

“Alright, why is he here? And why are you making up instead of picking a pizza? And why were you fighting in the first place? Tell me everything!”

“Alma, I’d rather talk to you alone.”

“If you guys are going to keep secrets from me, I’m leaving and taking the delivery guy hostage.”

“I’m sick of the mysteries too, Vadim.” I slip a hand into his hair. “What if we were actually honest with each other?”

“Whatever you want,” he says. “Besides, I need to talk to you too, D’Aragon.”

It’s something serious, judging by Vadim’s face, so we delay the discussion as long as possible. We order enough pizza for twelve people and play Mario Kart while we wait for the delivery guy. Then, we eat by the pool and admire the sunset before going for a swim in the fading light of day.

When Basile and Isaac go inside to dry off, and it’s just the three of us left, we know we can’t put the moment off any longer. Vadim finally speaks up.

“I know this is going to be hard to believe. Even I didn’t believe it… And I don’t have all the evidence yet, but I’m sure. I wouldn’t be telling you this if I wasn’t…”

“Spit it out, Arcadi!” Pulling her towel tightly around her body, Clem grows impatient.

“It’s Keith.”

His voice cuts through the air, giving me chills.

“What about Keith?” my best friend grumbles.

“The guy who’s been following Alma and me since the beginning and taking pictures of us… It’s Keith.”

“Ha, ha, ha! You’ve got a great career waiting for you at the FBI!”