Page 80 of You + Me – Against the World

Arcadius: Thanks, Daddy Lancaster, for the deluxe home with all the bells and whistles.

Alma_from_paris: They’re supposed to protect us.

Arcadius: How ironic…

Alma_from_paris: Now is not the time to get philosophical!

Arcadius: Homo homini lupus, you know?

Alma_from_paris: Vadim! So, what should we do?

Arcadius: I have a plan. This weekend, we’re going out. You tell your family, Clémentine, everyone, that you’re going somewhere, anywhere. It just has to be suspicious enough to make them wonder. I’ll meet you. We’ll be careful… And we’ll see if anyone follows us.

Alma_from_paris: I’m going to kill whoever it is!

Arcadius: I love it when you get feisty, Lancaster.

I don’t change anything about my routine, but I spend the whole week studying every glance and every suspicious-looking stranger, changing sidewalks or breaking into a run whenever a car slows down behind me. By the time Saturday night arrives, I’ve completely succumbed to paranoia.

Coincidentally, Basile tells our parents that he’s going out tonight, too. I leave just before him, my heart pounding, convinced that in no time at all I’ll catch him red-handed spying on me. I run to meet Vadim, without taking any detours. But my brother doesn’t follow me.

Unconvinced, Vadim decides to switch tactics and catch up to Basile, who had headed toward the campus. We drive with the headlights off, and after a few minutes, make out his silhouette, standing ramrod straight near the gym.

“What’s he doing here?”

“What do you think?” Vadim counters, raising his eyebrows.

“Is this everyone’s go-to spot for hooking up or something?”

“I guess so. Should we leave?”

“Let’s wait just a little longer. I want to know who it is.”

“I’m betting on a cheerleader. He’s such a snob, he’s probably scared of anyone finding out.” Suddenly, Vadim points through my window. “Look, isn’t that the basketball coach arriving? Maybe your brother is dealing drugs or steroids to those meathead basketball players!”

“That’s the assistant coach, Zach Powell. He—”

I’m stunned into silence when the coach, tall and sporting a sky-blue, yellow, and white polo, throws himself at my brother and kisses him passionately. My mouth drops open. Stunned by the surreal scene, my brain refuses to process what I’m seeing.

Only Vadim’s laughter abruptly brings me back to reality.

“Lancaster is gay!” he exclaims, bouncing in his seat.

“My brother is gay,” I repeat, trying to take it in. “Or bi.”

“Your parents are never going to get over this! You with a Russian thug and your brother with a Black, male coach!”

“My parents aren’t xenophobic! Or homophobic! They’re lots of things, but neither of those.”

“All right, I take it back. But your brother mustn’t be so sure if he’s keeping it a secret.”

“Damn… Basile likes men,” I murmur.

I can’t believe it.

A few feet away, I watch my brother kiss Zach Powell. A strange pride washes over me, followed by a wave of sadness.

“He could have told me.”