“My meeting is only for an hour, so you can register and work on the computer. There’s a professor in the lab to assist you.”
“Thanks.”
By the time they were on the train to the University of Rostock, Adrik was convinced the universe had set him up. The rhythmic clatter of the tracks was supposed to be calming, but all it did was remind him he was hurtling toward certain humiliation. Every sign, every announcement, every cheerfulconversation around them—German. Endless German. It was like the language had staged a coup, and he was the only one who hadn’t gotten the memo. The real problem was he had missed New York City. He missed speaking English and hearing English. All this German reminded him why he had to leave.
The campus looked picturesque as they stepped off the train, the sounds of distant laughter filling the air. Old stone buildings with ivy climbing as if it owned the place, tall windows that had probably seen centuries of smarter students, and sleek glass additions that screamed modernism and were intimidating. Students zipped past on bikes, laughing like they’d already mastered five languages before lunch. Adrik shoved his hands in his pockets, muttering to himself that he’d be lucky to master ordering a sandwich.
The language lab was the final punchline. Bright white walls, rows of computers with headsets that looked like medieval torture devices, and posters about phonetics and grammar plastered everywhere—like motivational slogans for people who enjoyed suffering. The air smelled faintly of coffee and printer ink, which would’ve been comforting if everyone else hadn’t seemed perfectly at ease. Students slipped into booths, adjusted their microphones, and started rattling off German like it was their native tongue. Adrik sat down, headphones heavy on his ears, and thought: Fantastic. I’m about to embarrass myself in Dolby surround sound.
“You’ll be fine,” Hans said, nudging him lightly. “The language center is used by beginners. Tons of tourists come here.”
“I’m not a tourist, or I’d be surfing on the Baltic right about now.”
“It’s too cold, but some do. Do you even know how to surf?”
“New Yorkers leave the state sometimes. Yes, my tutor taught me.”
“Tutor?”
“Yes, my tutor.” Adrik had already said too much. What the fuck was wrong with him this morning? He might as well tell Hans who he really was at this rate, then he could mourn him too.
“Your rich papa paid for a tutor for his spoiled son?”
Adrik nodded. And now Hans thought his father had spoiled him. In some ways, his father had overindulged him with lots of amenities. People like Hans had no idea about who his father was or how he treated Adrik. No one needed to know any of that.
“I’ll come back for you.”
“Okay.”
The class wasn’t bad. The instructor was patient, and the other students seemed friendly enough. He was starting to relax when a blonde girl walked into the lab—pretty, confident, smiling right at him like she already knew him.
She sat beside him. “Hallo,” she said, then switched to accented English. “You’re new here?”
Adrik nodded. “Yeah. Just started today.”
She laughed lightly, twirling a strand of hair. “Your accent is cute.”
He blinked, unsure what to do with that. “Uh… thanks?”
She leaned in a little, clearly enjoying his awkwardness. He wasn’t flirting back—he was mostly confused—but he didn’t want to be rude either. She interrupted his audio lessons many times during the hour. She was coming on to him. At least she spoke some English.
He stayed after the class ended to work on more lessons trying to ignore her politely. Then he felt it: a shift in the air behind him.
Hans.
Adrik turned, and Hans stood in the doorway, jaw tight, eyes fixed on the girl sitting too close. His expression wasn’t angry exactly, but it definitely wasn’t happy.
“Ready to go?” Hans asked, voice clipped.
Adrik stood quickly. “Yes. I—she was just—”
“It’s fine,” Hans said, even though it clearly wasn’t. He didn’t look at Adrik again as he turned and walked out.
Adrik hurried after him, but by the time he reached the hallway, Hans was gone. Just gone. Like he’d evaporated into the crowd.
A sudden wave of dread settled in Adrik’s chest. He went back and signed out of the lab like he was supposed to. He needed to have learned German without Sergei’s Russian accent. He knew more than the basics, was in fact quite fluent, and Sergei had made him memorize fifty sentences that would help no matter what the situation.
The blonde girl walked over to him again. “Professor Schroeger is a dick!”
