Page 73 of You + Me – Against the World

“Are you fucking kidding me, Fe?”

“It’s a disposable, man! Look, it’s a freaking disposable camera. I just wanted to make you laugh. Pretend to be the psycho who’s following you around.”

“Get the hell out of here.”

“C’mon, Vadim, I was just messing around. I did it for shit and giggles, that’s all. I just wanted to be part of the party. Surprise!” Felix shouts, snickering.

“You’re completely insane,” I breathe.

“Give me back my key and get out,” Vadim growls, finally letting him go.

“Okay, okay, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone. But you believe me, right? It was a fucking joke! You know me. I would never do that to you. Come on, man!”

Felix attempts a friendly pat on his buddy’s shoulder, but his hand is quickly brushed off. He smooths out his crumpled clothes and heads toward the front door, a smirk still plastered on his face. The two friends exchange a few words I can’t hear, the door slams, and Vadim—still shirtless—comes back to sit on the couch.

“I don’t think it was him, Alma.”

“What?” I reply, my eyes wide.

“The guy who took pictures of us from the street and in the gym couldn’t have done it with a disposable camera.”

“Felix was hiding behind your counter all evening! He was watching us while we—”

“I know,” Vadim interrupts. “But this is exactly the kind of stunt he likes to pull. It’s lame, but it’s classic Alonso. If he were the real photographer, he wouldn’t have let himself get caught so easily. He’s smarter than that.”

“This guy almost got you sent to jail! Then he sneaks into your place when you’re not here to take photos of us making out, and your conclusion is that he’s smart?”

“No, he’s a little asshole. But it’s not him.”

“Are you going to tell me he wasn’t the one who extorted money from me in exchange for your note, too?”

“What are you talking about?” he asks, frowning.

“The note you asked him to give me when you were released. It cost me thirty dollars. ‘For the trip,’ he said. Is that also your genius best friend being smart?”

Vadim closes his eyes, hangs his head, and runs both hands over the back of his neck. His silence only makes me more furious. I stand up, then start gathering my things, unable to stay in this apartment any longer.

“I’ll talk to him, Alma. And I’ll pay you back. Please don’t leave.”

“I don’t care about the money! But why do you always defend him? Even when he goes after me? Even on my birthday?”

“Because he’s all I have! He’s my childhood friend, my brother, my only family! He isn’t perfect, but he’s there for me.”

“I’m here too, don’t you see? I could be all you have, too! But you choose him!” I yell at the top of my lungs, my voice choked with tears.

“Hey, I don’t want to have to choose! There’s him, and there’s You + Me!” Vadim picks up the Polaroids from the hardwood floor and waves them in front of my eyes. “I’ve carved it into everything, but nothing is ever enough for you.”

His towering frame sinks back onto the couch again, his typically languorous movements tinged with helplessness. My anger evaporates and is quickly replaced by sorrow.

I cross the apartment, giving Vadim a wide berth, but before I step out the door, I turn around one last time. “You can add them to Felix’s photo collection. It’ll make a nice album for the two of you to look through when you’re old. Old and alone. Both of you.”

26

In a letter to his friend George Sand, Gustave Flaubert once wrote, “It is true that I am endowed with an absurd sensitiveness; what scratches others tears me to pieces.” I couldn’t have said it better myself.

But I just turned nineteen, and I made only one wish while blowing out my candles: to stop letting myself be torn apart by my emotions. The tears that flow when I don’t want them to, the questions that overwhelm me and that I have no way of answering, the stress that paralyzes me, the injustices that rile me, my obsession with the details that move me, the songs that sweep me away, the battles that drive me, the way my self-confidence abandons me at the worst possible moments, my fear of everything and mostly of nothing, the sulking that lasts longer than it should because I don’t know how to get past it… It all has to stop. I need to find a way to lighten my load, to get through life without every day being a struggle, an ordeal that I create for myself.

Clémentine has done her job well as my best friend-slash-therapist.