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My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out under the desk and open a new email from the hospital billing department. Mom’s balance this week comes to $6,000, and they expect payment soon. My stomach drops. I close the email and check the delivery app, but there are zero new requests. It has been dead ever since Yakov and I started sleeping together. The other wealthy students stopped sending me on errands because they all know I belong to him now, leaving me dependent on him for everything. He even offered to pay for an apartment on the wealthy side of campus, but I turned it down because I refuse to owe him any more than I already do.
After class, I walk straight to the student board where the job notices for sponsorship kids usually hang. Today, the corkboard is bare. There is not a single flyer pinned to the surface. I stare at the space longer than I should, a sick feeling settling in my chest. That board is always full. The rich kids never look at it, but the rest of us live off those notices. Since I still have my job at the restaurant, I head over there and pick up a double shift. The dinner rush keeps me busy wiping tables and refilling waters while I try my hardest not to think about the six thousand dollars I desperately need.
The front door opens, and Samarah walks in with Dimitri and Yakov right behind her. Samarah spots me and waves. She is already talking fast to Dimitri, laughing at whatever he just said, acting bubbly and loud. I grab a stack of menus and walk over to their booth.
Samarah beams up at me. “Hey you! Can you take our order? I am starving.”
I keep my voice low, but I lean in a little closer. “You should be careful, Samarah. I know you come from money too, but hanging around these guys is risky. They might not have good intentions, and if you keep fooling around with them, something bad will happen. You need to learn that lesson before you find out the hard way.”
She rolls her eyes and waves me off with a dismissive laugh. “You worry way too much, Elias. I am fine, I promise. Now take our order already.”
Dimitri turns his attention back to her. “When is your last class? Are you free later? I want us to talk.”
Samarah shakes her head. “No, I can’t. I am failing my classes right now, and I need to catch up. I found a guy who is going to tutor me.”
I can tell from the way Dimitri’s jaw ticks that he hates her answer, but it is not my place to butt in. Plus, I don’t have Yakov’s protection backing me up anymore.
I write down what they want and bring their drinks over to the table. I finally turn to Yakov. “What can I get you?”
Yakov refuses to look at me. He stares down at the laminated menu, ignoring my presence entirely, and stays silent.
Samarah notices the tension and frowns. “What is going on with you two? Are you guys still fighting? You were so close before, so what happened?”
I force a tight shrug. “It is no problem. Maybe he doesn’t want anything right now. I will bring your food out soon.”
I serve their meals and stay busy with other tables while they eat. They talk and laugh the entire time, but Yakov never looks my way. When they finally finish and get up to leave, I walk over to clear the table. A folded bill sits tucked under Yakov’s empty plate. It is a thousand dollars. My hands shake as I pick up the money. He stopped paying for Mom’s treatment, but he still left this much cash on the table because he knows how desperate my situation is. Tears burn hot in my eyes, but I blink them away fast and shove the cash deep into my pocket.
I stay late to help clean the restaurant so I can earn a few extra hours of pay. The place empties, and I lock the front doors for the night. The walk back to my dorm takes me along the dirt path that cuts through the thick trees near the edge of campus. I feel the weight of someone watching me the entire walk, a constant prickle on the back of my neck warning me that someone is following close behind. I tell myself I am just being paranoid and force myself to keep walking.
I turn the corner by a thick cluster of trees. A large hand clamps hard over my mouth from behind and yanks me off the path into the deep shadows. I scream against the palm, but the sound dies instantly in the quiet air. Then the familiar scent of apples and kayala vanilla perfume envelops me. The all-too-familiar scent belongs to one person: Yakov.
He locks his arm around my waist, holding me tight against his chest. I thrash and try to bite the hand covering my mouth, but he refuses to let go.
“Stop fighting me, baby,” he says right against my ear, his voice low and calm. “You ran away from our home, but I found you. Now that wasn’t very nice."
He moves his hand, and I yank my head free. “What the fuck? Why did you do that?”
“What, did you expect me not to make a move when you refused to speak to me?”
I shove hard against his chest, but he doesn’t budge. “I tried to talk to you this morning! You ignored me. You wouldn’t even look at my fucking face. Don’t act like I’m the one ignoring you when you gave me the cold shoulder in front of everyone.”
“You were reluctant,” he fires back smoothly. “If you had just come up to me and touched me, I would have dropped the act in a second. But you wanted to play stubborn.”
I take a deep, shaking breath. “Fuck this. Fuck you.”
“That is the plan.”
“What do you want from me?” I shout, frustration boiling over. “Seriously, Yakov, what do you actually want from me?”
“I want you. I want just you. That has been my only goal from the start.”
“That’s a lie. If you just wanted me, you wouldn’t have used my mother’s sickness against me. You knew exactly how desperate I was. You knew I would do anything to save her, and you knew how much I trusted you. You demanded sex in exchange for her treatment, you sick fuck.”
“Don’t act innocent when you enjoyed it,” he snaps, his grip tightening on my waist. “That is a very selfish thing to say.”
“You think I am the selfish one?”
“Yes, you are. You refuse to let us go public. Whenever I try to hold your hand outside, you pull away. Why? Are you ashamed of being seen with me, or are you just ashamed of being gay?”
