by Marian Tee
Thank you, Mother of Russia!
Trying not to show relieved she was, she said, “I gotta go, Misha. Class is about to start.”
Misha reluctantly pushed himself off the doorway. “Will you be meeting with your voice coach later?”
“Err, no. Why?”
“Great.” Misha’s grin had the girls behind Seri giggling.
“I can have lunch with you and Davey then.” The giggles stopped, and the intense scowling resumed, enough to burn a hole at Seri’s back.
He placed a kiss on the top of her forehead.
Derr mo. That meant ‘shit’ in Russian.
“See ya, little dove.”
Srat. This still meant shit.
Seri tried to creep back to her seat as inconspicuously as possible, but it was no use. As she got to her seat, another student deliberately shoved her from behind, snarling under her breath, “Die, you bitch.”
And so it begins, Seri thought with a silent sigh, just another day in her not-so-ordinary life as stepsister to the Grachyov brothers.
* * *
First period was Business Math, something unique to their school because it aimed for its students to be responsible Fortune 500 heirs. It was, however, a subject Seri didn’t look forward to, and not just because she was abysmal with numbers.
Students rushed to their seats when Professor Alexeyev came in, followed moments later by his aide, the nineteen-year-old Sergei Grachyov. The two were nearly identical, being both tall dark-haired men with the same impeccable taste in suits.
“Everyone, open your book to page 15,” the professor said as he took his seat. Without looking up from his book, the professor continued, “Graded recitation for today.”
A cry of protest rose from the class.
He looked up. “What’s wrong? Did I forget to tell you about this?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I did, didn’t I?” He smiled languidly. “It’s a surprise then.”
The class groaned.
Professor Alexeyev glanced at his aide. “Sergei, call out the five students with the lowest scores in last week’s quiz.”
“Yes, professor.” Sergei took the clipboard from the desk. “Annabelle Raymond?”
A blonde girl sauntered forward with an exaggerated sway of her hips.
“Please answer the first question of Exercise 15.”
She fluttered her lashes at Sergei. “Which page is that, Sergei? Could you show it to me?” She leaned forward to show him her book, but everyone knew it was just a ploy to show off her cleavage. Annabelle had unbuttoned the first few buttons of her blouse, enough to have a hint of her lacy bra peeking out.
“Thank you, Annabelle. You may return to your seat.” Sergei started scribbling on the clipboard.
The girl’s jaw dropped open. “But I haven’t answered anything yet.”
Sergei looked up. “You don’t have to. If you can’t even remember instructions given by the professor less than fifteen minutes ago, I highly doubt you’d be capable of answering the question.” His smile and tone were both pleasant, but his dark eyes were chillingly dismissive.
Annabelle ran out of the class sobbing.
Sergei’s gaze returned to the clipboard. “Heather Tully?”
The brunette seated in front of the class stood up. “Shall I answer number 1?”
“Yes, please.”
She did so quickly, and when she was done, she sidled up next to Seri’s brother, practically rubbing her breasts against his arm as she asked, “Is it correct?”
Sergei glanced at the board. “Yes.” His tone became dry. “Unfortunately, the way you insist on flirting with someone who’s already turned you down several times is not.”
With an outraged gasp, Heather raised her hand to slap Sergei’s face, and Seri held her breath. Dear Mother of Russia, was she really going to slap Seri’s brother? And if she did, wasn’t Seri supposed to stop it?
But Sergei didn’t appear bothered at all.
He only raised a brow, asking softly, “Are you certain you’d like to do that?” His voice lowered, and the rest of the class strained their ears to hear him as he murmured, “Just be warned that if you do, what little chance you have of dating me when you graduate will completely disappear.”
Heather lowered her hand.
Oooooh. The class shook their heads in admiration as Heather skulked back to her seat, obviously unwilling to gamble said little chance.
“How appallingly cold of you, Sergei,” Professor Alexeyev said mockingly.
His aide only shrugged. “Garth Drummond?”
The boy wrote his answer for the second question, was corrected by the professor, and went back to his seat without fuss.
Sergei frowned.
Seri gulped. She had a bad feeling about this.
Her brother looked up. “Seri Devereaux.”
B’lyad. That meant ‘fuck’ and right now, she was so fucked.
She slowly made her way to the front of the class with her book gripped tightly in her hands.
When she reached Sergei, she held her breath, wondering if Sergei would scold her for having one of the lowest grades in last week’s test.
But instead, her brother smiled.
Which was worse.
He took the book from her hand and flipped it open to the exercise they were working on. “We’re going to answer number 3, baby girl.”
And that was strike one for her, Seri thought with an inner wince. If looks could kill, she would have died about thirty-five times by now, at the hands of each and every girl in her class.
“You know the answer to it?” Sergei was asking.
“Umm, no?”
Sergei drew her towards the board, saying easily, “That’s okay. I’ll show you how to solve it. That’s what I’m here for.”
Professor Alexeyev coughed, while people’s gazes began boring through Seri’s back.
Strike two, she thought glumly.
Sergei wrote the equation and answer on the board in seconds. “That’s how you solve it. Want me to explain it for you?”
Not unless I want to die, Seri thought and out loud, she said quickly, “No need, I, umm, get it now.”
Sergei had a concerned frown on his face. “Are you certain?”
She nodded vehemently.
He ruffled her hair. “If you say so.”
As she turned her back to return to her seat, she heard the professor sigh, “A little bird told me that the only reason you turned down the internship from Geneva was because you wanted to stick close to your sister---”
Seri jerked at the words.
Strike three.
“I guess it’s true.”
Someone suddenly stuck her foot out as Seri walked past and she tripped over it, falling painfully to her knees.
Before Seri could even cry out, Sergei was already next to her, helping her up. “What’s wrong?”
You are.
You all are.
But then she saw the concern in his gaze, and swallowing back the words, Seri shook her head, mumbling, “You know how clumsy I am.” Mother of Russia, she was such a pushover when it came to her boys, and they weren’t even emotionally blackmailing her.
* * *
Third period was P.E., and Seri finally had some time to be alone, seated at the top row of the bleachers while the rest of the class was below, yelling their lungs out for cheer practice. Lying down, she was about to take a nap when a shadow fell over her, and her eyes opened.
A startlingly handsome face with hair and eyes the color of silver greeted her.
“Vassi,” Seri gasped and sat up so quickly she ended up bumping her head hard with the guy’s chin.
Vassi grunted in pain, saying dryly, “I guess that means you miss me?”
“I can’t believe you’re here!” She threw her arms around him as he took his seat next to her. The youngest of the Grachyov brothers, Vassi was only a year older than Seri at fifteen. Even so, he still towered over her by a foot, and his lean f
rame was just as muscular as his older brothers.
He was also her favorite, and Seri had never made a secret of it.
Grinning at the bear hug she gave him, he teased, “You haven’t answered my question. Have you missed me, leech?”
“You know I did.” She hugged him even more tightly.
Pulling away, he smiled down at her and said simply, “I missed you too, leech.”
“When did you return?” she asked. “And how long are you going to stay? When’s your next project?” His last one had been a fashion shoot in Belgium, and she had thought he would be gone for at least another week for it. Being a Grachyov, he could miss as many days of classes as he needed and the school wouldn’t even blink.
But to Seri, it mattered. Every day was just a little less wonderful than it should be whenever Vassi had to leave for work.
Vassi was laughing at her. “Medleno, solnishka moya.”
It meant ‘slowly, my little sun,’ and Seri could have closed her eyes and listened to the words forever. She loved hearing Vassi speak in Russian. There was just something impossibly beautiful about it, and the fiercely tender cadence of his tone never failed to make her feel warm and cherished.
“Sometimes, you are worse than the paparazzi with your questions.”
She made a face. “Am not.”
Vassi put an arm around her shoulders, saying, “But because you’re my little sister, I shall answer your questions. Firstly, I returned a while ago, and I came straight here from the airport.” He looked at her, saying dryly, “You didn’t really think I’d let Sergei and Misha be the only ones present during your first day in high school, did you?”
Her eyes widened. “But what about your work?”
“That brings us to your second question, and unfortunately I must return to Brussels tomorrow.”
“Vassi!” She couldn’t believe he had flown almost fourteen hours just to be with her on the first day. “You know you didn’t have to---”
“I was concerned,” he interrupted her. “Knowing those two, they probably made things worse for you, didn’t they?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You can’t lie to me, leech. I’ve heard from Rick that you left for school before Sergei and Misha, and on foot. You were thinking you could delay the inevitable, weren’t you?”
She shrugged.
“But then somehow, Misha and Sergei screwed things up, and now everyone hates you for being the apple of their eye.”
Her shoulders slumped. “It’s not their fault.” There was no point lying to Vassi. He always had the uncanny ability to see through her the way her older brothers couldn’t.
“I’m going to have a word with them later,” Vassi said darkly. “Those idiots are old enough to know---”
She shook her head quickly. “Please don’t. I wouldn’t want them to change. I wouldn’t want any of you to change. You know that.”
Vassi looked at her for one moment and then the next thing she knew, she was suddenly in his arms.
“You’re the sweetest little thing, solnishka moya,” Vassi sighed softly against her hair.
And that was when it happened.
It was…the strangest little thing, her heart skipping a beat while she was in her brother’s arms.
His arms tightened around her---
And there it was again, Seri thought in shock.
Her heart skipped another beat, and consequently it made Seri feel breathless as her throat tightened. I must be imagining it, she told herself. She was just excited about Vassi’s unexpected return. That was all.
Lightning struck the skies as soon as the thought occurred, and heat burned Seri’s cheeks. It was almost like the heavens were mocking her---
But for what?
Thunder rumbled, and rain fell hard and fast without warning.
Seri gasped in surprise.
Vassi was already on his feet and tugging her up. “Let’s make a run for it!”
The nearest covered area was the waiting shed near the entrance, but by the time they made it there, the two of them were completely drenched.
It’s Vassi!
Vassi’s here!
Oh my God, someone give me a towel so I have a reason to go to him!
Can I offer my body to dry him?
Seri bowed her head, her gaze on the floor. She didn’t want anyone to see her scowling because she knew she was being unreasonably selfish and jealous. She was always a little bit too possessive where her favorite brother was concerned.
“Dammit, Seri.”
She looked up quickly, hearing the anger in her brother’s voice. “What’s wrong---uh!” She suddenly found herself in the circle of Vassi’s arms.
“Stay here,” he gritted down at her. “Your shirt’s completely transparent.”
Oh.
“We don’t want anyone to see you’re flat as a---”
She stomped on his foot, hard.
He grunted. “I’m kidding, leech.” His arms tightened around her. “But seriously, stay here while I call Misha to come here and give you his lab coat.” With one arm still wrapped securely around her, Vassi pulled his phone out with his other hand.
And Seri stayed there, listening without hearing a thing.
She was in a state of shock, the ability to think clearly knocked out of her the moment her heart started doing its weird thing again.
The moment Vassi had pulled her into his embrace, her heart had raced, her stomach had twisted itself into knots, and her toes had curled painfully hard inside her shoes.
What was going on?
Chapter Two
“Morning, Papa.” She greeted Fyodor happily, bending down to give him a kiss on the cheek. He was a tall and extremely attractive man in his early forties, and the touch of grey in his dark hair only made him look more distinguished. He was like a better version of George Clooney, she thought fondly, with the added bonus of a swoon-worthy Russian accent.
“Morning, kroshka.” Fyodor smiled as he watched his only daughter greet her brothers. He might have all the money in the world, but nothing he could purchase would ever equal the pleasure he experienced every time he saw his family together.
As Seri settled on his right, he was able to take a closer look at her face and frowned. There were unusually dark circles under her eyes and, looking at her now, he also noticed that she seemed thinner and paler.
He asked abruptly, “Is something wrong, Seri?”
Seri started in her seat. “Huh? What? No?”
Silence.
She could feel three pairs of eyes narrowing at her.
“Something is clearly wrong,” Misha said slowly. “You’ve lost weight, haven’t you?”
Seri quickly tried to shrug it off, saying lightly, “That’s a good thing for us girls, you know?”
“No. I don’t know.” It was Sergei who answered, and the unusually cool note in her brother’s voice had Seri swallowing.
He raised a brow at her, asking, “Unless of course it’s your intention to starve yourself?”
Now she knew she was in trouble. Sergei was only sarcastic with her when he was furious.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” she lied. “Nothing.” But her gaze was fixed firmly on her plate, Seri knowing that the boys would guess the truth the moment they saw her eyes.
Nothing…
Except for the fact that it had been three months since…
She didn’t even want to think about it.
It was that bad.
* * *
But not thinking about it was easier said than done.
Seri was on her back in her bed, still as a corpse. In many ways, she was one, had been so the moment an evil spirit took possession of her heart and made Seri feel the weirdest things.
Bad things.
Things that she also couldn’t ever forget.
Since that day in the rain, she had done her best to avoid Vassi without anyone noticing, and especially no
t Vassi. She pretended to miss his calls because of one thing or another and only answered his texts when she was sure he was sleeping, and even went as far as making sure she had the right time zone for this.
She had thought that perhaps, she could survive just by watching clips of him on YouTube, but…it only made things worse, only made her heart ache like it was literally breaking into two, only made her miss him so badly.
She missed her brother so much.
And that was fine, wasn’t it?
She was allowed to miss her brother, wasn’t she?
So why didn’t it feel right?
* * *
“Wow,” Davey said when she joined him for lunch at school the next day. “You look like you’re dying.”
“I am.” She slumped over the table and hid her face between her arms. Every day that she couldn’t hear Vassi’s voice, couldn’t see his face, couldn’t touch his hand---
Days like this made her feel like she was dying bit by bit.
“Why don’t you just admit it?” Davey asked reasonably. “You’re---”
She straightened on her seat and hissed, “No!”
Davey blinked. “Umm, hello, Little Miss Moody.”
Seri flushed. “Sorry.” But when her friend started to open his mouth again, she told him seriously, “Don’t try saying it again. I mean it.” Because if he did, then she would be forced to acknowledge why she was feeling what she was feeling.
And she wasn’t ready for that.
She would never be ready for that.
Misha and Sergei came to join them then, and she shot Davey a warning look before she turned to her brothers with a bright smile. She thought she had fooled them, but she hadn’t. As she forced herself to eat her pasta, she missed the looks exchanged between the two.
Whatever was bothering Seri, their baby sister was clearly not going to tell them, and they knew Davey well enough to even bother forcing the truth out of Seri’s gay best friend.
And so this left them to do only one thing…
* * *
Another empty day, she thought listlessly.
It was only eight in the evening and normally, Seri liked to stay up until ten, either doing vocal exercises or if not that, then spending every spare minute collecting online clips about Vassi and adding it to her digital scrapbook.