Shadows & Strings

After an hour of math, literature is the best respite.

I slump against the chair. Kenji dumps himself in the seat ahead with his back to me. Mrs Holloway struts in the classroom, deviously delighted to bring suffering to those at her scant mercy.

"Mr Takahashi, I think we are all owed a spectacle—I mean, a presentation," she says with a plastic smile and squinted eyes. "I have not forgotten. Though it will be delayed, I have a lot planned and I am waiting for word about the fresh addition to the class. So you can ready yourself for the second period."

"So excited," he says with a pained groan.

She gives a thunder clap. "Alright—"

A polite knock interrupts her. Mrs Holloway throws up a halting finger and waddles over to the door. She opens it and a familiar face from the administration office pokes her head through with a quirky smile. Mrs Holloway steps out for a moment. Kenji stretches himself like a feline and drops his head far back and looks at me upside down.

"I feel dizzy," he says with an impish smile.

"Because you're upside down."

"The entire world is upside down," he retorts. "So maybe, I'm the right-side up."

I feign a pensive look, nodding many times, as if listening to an inspirational speaker. "That's deep."

I glance at the doorway. My smile withers. Kenji straightens his head.

Mrs Holloway returns with a herculean figure at the helm. Vanko enters, radiating boundless confidence that is so palpable, like a current of water, like rapids rushing over you. The strap of his bag clings to his one shoulder with a brand new workbook and notepad tucked under his armpit. Murmurings ripple across the class and girls share knowing looks and smiles. Pick-me boys try to catch his attention with welcoming nods or subtle waves with two or three fingers up.

"Class-Vanko; Vanko-class," she introduces briefly. "Vanko was an old student that has returned to Braidwood. And the first student I have ever heard about who had a principle allow his appeal for a subject change on such late notice. Alas, his grand decision was to join us. So any volunteers to catch up the newbie?"

Stems of arms sprout up in a flash.

Vanko's eyes roam the class with a sinister smirk. We lock eyes once again.

He points at me. Something sharp pierces my chest.

"We're old friends."

"Amara," Mrs Holloway chirps. "One of my best students. You're in expert hands."

"I will also need extra help," he says, with an even more choppy accent, utterly butchering his enunciation on purpose. "My English is not so good."

She gestures to me freely. "Amara is at your disposal. I'm sure she will help you with anything you need. Isn't that right, Miss Smith?"

I don't answer. Further interaction with Vanko sends my mind reeling.

"Mrs Holloway, I need the bathroom," Kenji announces abruptly.

She nods her approval. Kenji snaps to his feet and snatches his bag as he bolts out of the class. A fledgling smirk on Vanko's face heats fear into fury. He comes over to me and claims Kenji's vacated seat. He swivels it around with a flourish and straddles it as he drops his books on my desk. My eyes remain fixated on my lap and I can feel his eyes burning through me.

"This is going to be fun," he said lowly.

"Mr Chernenko," Mrs Holloway exclaims. "Catch up on your own time."

Vanko quirks his brows, takes his books and revolves back around, slightly angled to drape his one arm around the head of the chair lazily. Kenji never came back to class. And my mind was tossed to the cyclone of dangerous thoughts. When the bell rings, I make sure to be the first one out of the room. However, Vanko soon sullies my periphery.

"We can meet up after school," Vanko casually suggests. "There's an old place I—"

"You're delusional if you think I'm going to tutor you or something."

"I won't beg the teacher's pet," he says with an edge of menace. "I'll just have to disappoint her teacher by telling her that her best student refuses to help me."

I brake to a halt.

I can feel his smirk. He slithers in front of me. "I knew the people-pleaser in you couldn't resist," he says with a sly smile. "I'll be waiting for you in the parking lot after school."

"Today?" I squeak.

"Don't act like you got better plans." And with no matter of choice or discussion, he says, "I'll see you after school."

¬¬¬

"You're not serious, are you?"

Kenji storms over to the closest classroom, opens the door, peers inside and pushes it wider. I breathe deeply and follow suit, passing him, and he closes the door behind me. My eyes dart at the clock. Eight minutes left of second-break. More than enough time for him to bite my head off and finish it clean.

"I swear you and I share the same history, but we must clearly have different experiences," he says to my back, impaling me with each word. "Just looking at him sickens me. But you... you have a study date with him?"

I whip around, nearly rendered speechless. "What?"

"You know what he's capable of... what he is," he says, unbridling only surface-level anger. "And all of that was just when he was a kid. Imagine how worse he is now. And you're playing into his hands like blind prey."

Joint anger sends my blood thrumming, and I have to look away from him, even if it's just for a moment.

"I tried running," I say, chucking my words at the floor. "It didn't work out well for me. Ever. What do you expect me to do? Get a restraining order against him—"

"After all this time, being the princess of Braidwood, you have become this social justice warrior," he says with a drizzle of derision in his tone. "And I couldn't be more proud. But around Vanko. He is your kryptonite. And it pisses me off because you're not helpless or weak. You're extraordinary," he raves on with tear-jerking zeal. "Look at how much you have overcome. And blossomed despite destruction. He is linked to all of your past pain. He is the face of your trauma. He's worse than poison, and I want you nowhere near him."

"Ken—"

"It's not a request," he says sternly. "I would never want to control my best friend—or ever tell any woman what to do. But you're not just any woman. And frankly, I'm gonna do what I have to."

My brows collide at the threat shadowing his words. "You act like I want to be around him?" I say, folding my arms. "As if I volunteered to spend even a second around him, but I didn't. The quicker I face him, the faster I can escape him. He's the one manipulating his way into my life, and I can't figure out why. He just shrugs off the past like nothing ever happened."

"Because he's a soulless cunt," he blurts. "And you're a push-over."

"If you're done using me as your verbal punching bag. I'm going to head to class."

I make a start for the door.

"Amara," he whispers ruefully.

He reaches for me, but I swipe my hand away and I spill out of the classroom with my jaw fixed. I head to the biology labs upstairs. Passing the swell of students, I spot Alexia and Alister on the horizon of lockers and lackeys. I don't know how he does it, but he takes the intimidating, mean-faced Alex and reduces her to nothing but a giggling school girl. It's not difficult to see why, actually. Besides, his magnetic charm and chiseled features. He's kind, so kind and attentive, like every problem you have, however miniscule, matters deeply to him. He doesn't criticize or ridicule, he just listens and responds with unquenchable warmth.

I catch Alex's eye and she tips her head at me. Alister drags his eyes away from her to follow her line of sight to me. I muster a smile and wave politely back at them both.

The rest of the day goes on warp speed, traveling faster than light itself because the next thing I know. I'm taking diminutive steps towards the primary entrance. Shortly, I pass through the doors to be plunged into fervor. Phones spurt up like stalks to capture videos or pictures of the new matte black Lamborghini urus with yellow rims. Vanko leans coolly against the hood with a center peak, on a phone call with someone. And he couldn't give a damn about the people taking pictures of him and his car like a celebrity accustomed to the spotlight.

As I approach, I hear him speaking Russian. His eyes slice across the crowd, then he finds me and shoots a wink that distorts my insides. The exterior of the car has muscular surfaces with massive tires. I gasp, nearly jumping out of my own skin when familiar fingers interlace with my own. Kenji sidles my flank and gives me a meaningful look. Vanko's smile wilts, exuding enmity, so much so that he ends the call without warning.

"Vanko," Kenji says with mock glee. "It's really good to see you." He then frees a small, exaggerated laugh. "I just wanted to hear how fake I would sound."

I snicker beside him, my spirit lifting into serenity.

"I could tell by the way you ran out of class."

A fiery look flickers behind Kenji's eyes. "There's a difference between running. And restraining oneself. Amara told me about your little catch-up session," he says, swaying our entwined hands playfully. "You don't mind if I join? I could really brush up on my literature."

Vanko plasters on an indulgent smile and straightens to stand at full height.

He transfers his dark eyes to me. "What, you need a bodyguard when you're with me?" His eyes flick to Kenji disparagingly. "Poor choice."

Kenji lurches forward. "Why don't you try something and we'll see."

I tighten my grip around his hand to pull him back.

Vanko flashes a shark-like grin and walks over to the passenger side. Kenji and I follow. He opens the door for me and nods his head to it pointedly. Kenji slips out of my grasp and slides onto the seat.

"Such a gentleman," he remarks dryly.

Vanko smiles darkly, his tongue poking through his cheek. He closes the door and opens the backseat for me. I scurry inside, taking off my bag to place it at my feet. Promptly, Vanko eases into the driver's side and starts the car. The deep rumble of a turbocharged engine vibrates through me and my eyes gloss over the aerospace-inspired design and driver-oriented instrumentation, featuring a myriad of materials: leather, Alcantara and carbon-fiber finishes.

The urus pulls out seamlessly and makes its way to the main road.

Vanko's eyes spring to the rear-view mirror, tethering my gaze to his. A smile sparks a wicked glint in them. My heart bangs around in my chest like it wishes to break free. I grapple for my composure, trying to conceal my dread is like tufts of clouds only able to conceal the peak of a mountain.

C (open string)D (first finger on the A string)E (second finger on the A string)G (open string)A (first finger on the D string)G (open string)E (second finger on the D string)C (open string)

"How's my passenger princess?"

Vanko slaps his veiny hand down on Kenji's knee, gliding up to grip his thigh teasingly.

Kenji rips his hand off. "If you want to keep your hand. Don't you ever touch me again."

Vanko laughs carelessly. "You haven't changed. All bark and no bite."

"Where are you taking us?" Kenji demands.

"You don't trust me?" he asks with a devilish smirk.

"Stupid question."

"We're going to study... eat—" he casts us both stomach-churning glances. "—then maybe go get some food."

It takes me a while to link the pieces as to why he mentioned food twice...

My eyes bulge out of their socks at the sordid, sinful suggestion.

"We're not here for anything else," Kenji says to set a boundary. "You get to play catch-up. Then you have no other business with Amara."

Vanko chuckles; a threatening sound. "There's only one problem." His sordid smile fades, peeling away like a mask, leaving nothing behind but the void beneath. "You couldn't stop me if I tried."