Act Thirty-Two
Luka Kotova
After I leave Kat’s bedroom and enter the living area, I’m swarmed and hounded by my cousins. All for answers about a girl who I’m pretty sure is Camila Ruiz.
Dimitri’s many brothers zealously push my arms, pat my shoulders, and ask, “Who was she?! Who said that?!”
Bay was right about me being disloyal and loyal. I choose my sides wisely, and I’m not snitching on those girls.
I pop a piece of gum in my mouth with a grin full of mischief. “Who?”
They all groan and hook their arms around my shoulder, rubbing my head roughly. I laugh and shove them off, and not long after, I slide past all their bodies and they start hollering at Anton who fiddles with the music.
The suite is crammed. Shot glasses, whiskey and vodka bottles scatter every surface, and Erik plus his little brother Abram and seven other cousins carry a poorly wrapped present through the suite door. It looks heavy and about five-feet tall.
I have no clue what they bought for Kat, but she’s going to hate it. Like every year, they’re all looking forward to her huff and eye-roll.
I pick up a fallen trashcan, and as I pass Nik by the bar counter, I slap his ass. No reaction. He downs a shot of liquor and refills another.
He’s more uptight than usual. And that’s saying something.
Thing is, I know what’s on his mind. Thora. The pregnancy. (Corporate being complete dicks.) I keep an eye on Nik and spit out my gum. I weave through bodies in the small kitchen space and find a bag of bite-sized pretzels.
Returning to my brother’s side, I offer some, and after a reluctant pause, he fits his hand in the bag and eats.
“You okay?” I ask.
He fills another shot while he pops a pretzel in his mouth. “I’ve been better.”
I don’t want to pile more onto his shoulders, but if I don’t warn him, he may upset Katya. “One of the girls did Kat’s makeup,” I say.
He slides me his shot and then fills another.
“She looks like she’s in her twenties, and you know you can’t tell her to wash it off. She’s seventeen.”
Nikolai is rigid, but then he nods, accepting this before his shocked-self says something he’ll come to regret. Like go wash your face, Katya. “Most of us will keep an eye on her tonight.”
I figured as much. We raise our shots, clink them together, and down them in unison. When we turn to face the couches, I spot Sergei by the floor-length window. Nighttime, the Vegas lights sparkle in the distance, and Sergei laughs with Matvei about something on their phones.
I hear his truth about choosing his career over us. Repeatedly on blast in my ears.
I didn’t even hesitate.
I didn’t even hesitate.
I’m not angry. Because I’m standing beside the selfless brother who thought about us in his choice. Who asked for nothing in return. I have Nikolai when I could’ve easily had no one.
I lean my head towards Nik. “For what it’s worth,” I say, “I’m glad you were the one who chose us.”
Nikolai isn’t surprised. “Because you dislike Serg.”
“Because I love you.”
He rests his hand on the back of my head, one gesture that says he feels the same about me. And I hear him breathe deeply, “It’s worth a lot.”
* * *
While the girls finish getting dressed, Timo and I guard Katya and Bay’s bedroom door. Just so our cousins stop banging on the wood and screeching, “Who’s in there?!”
In front of the door, we dance to a popular song, and I fit on my baseball cap backwards. Timo pushes up his gold Venetian mask to his head, twirling a scepter in his hand, and we both sing somewhat off-key. Our voices aren’t that great, but we don’t hold back.
Most of our cousins are playing beer pong, and Robby hands Timo a bottle of Fireball. My brother takes a swig, passes it to me; I take a swig, and then crack open the door and stick my arm through.
Baylee grabs the Fireball out of my hand. Just by touch, I can tell it’s her. Our fingers hook for a second longer, before we have to let go. “Thanks,” she says. I picture her smiling, and it’s enough to make my lips upturn.
“Cool brother!” Camila calls out, not loud enough for everyone else to hear.
They shut the door.
Timo grabs hold of my shoulder, shakes me to the beat, and I feel happy. Which scares me more than usual. Every time I capture this kind of light, it sputters out and turns impossibly bleak.
No one says the truth. That at the end of every good moment, there’s a bad one waiting.
Timo senses my slight change in demeanor. His feet fall flat, and he tosses me the scepter as he asks, “What’s on your mind, brother?”
I pass the gold staff between my hands. Nikolai gifted him the scepter for his sixteenth birthday. “I just have a bad feeling.”
I haven’t really felt this way since the three of us were little kids. And one of the worst things happened…
(Don’t make me say it. I can’t touch it. I’m sorry.)
“About what?” Timo asks, his features still endlessly bright despite cradling worry.
I spin my hat but keep the rim backwards. “I don’t know. It’s probably nothing.”
Timo bites his thumbnail, and I toss the scepter back. He grabs hold, and close enough to whisper, he quietly asks, “Can I tell you something? I’ve been keeping it in, and it’s starting to get to me.”
“Yeah.”
“Katya thinks you’re in love with Baylee. That you’ve been in love with her for years, and honestly, I think she’s onto something here.”
I open my mouth to deny on impulse, but he keeps talking fast, knowing I’d shut this conversation down early on.
“I mean, we all skirt around some stuff, but you refused to say her name like you were told not to—”
“Dude, stop—”
“There you go, clear as day.” He shakes his head like he should’ve confronted me sooner. “I just don’t understand what the big deal is? Hey Jude, you love her, now go and get her.” He points his scepter at the door beside us.
I try not to laugh. “It’s not that…” simple. My smile vanishes in one instant. With one thought: the contracts. The no minors policy.
Timo twirls the scepter, his eyes still twinkling. “You’re hiding something.”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Okay truth,” he says so quietly that only I could hear over the music. Then he leans against the door, and I lean beside him. Timo swings his head to me. “I’ve never believed that you got into cocaine. Not even on a spur of the moment. It’d make you feel…”
His gaze says: out of control.
I don’t nod, but he’s right. “So you just thought I lied?”
“I thought that you couldn’t be honest, but one day you would be.”
Today’s not that day. Tomorrow’s not it either. I can never be honest with my little brother. With my sister. The lie will always remain, and it eats at me more than Timo knows.
The door cracks, and the girls tell us that they’re ready. Timo and I drop our conversation, and we step back so they can slip out.
Thora is the first to exit, wearing a low-cut silver dress, and immediately, she gapes at the five-foot gift, still wrapped and standing next to the television.
“What is that?” she asks Dimitri. “What happened to the list?”
Timo and I exchange a knowing smile.
“I wiped my ass with that list,” Dimitri says crudely. “Do you want it back?” He jokingly digs into the pocket of his slacks.
Thora scowls darkly, but Nik is by her side, his hand on the small of her back. It’s the first time I’ve seen him smile all night.
“Luka,” Bay calls from inside her room. Sticking her hand out, she waves me over, and I’m there in a flash.
I peek into the barely ajar door, and I think I’m supposed to be fixated on Camila—who flings a fuzzy lilac blanket over her head—but I’m entrapped by Bay.
It’s not just because of her sparkling halter dress that hugs her hips. Or the glittering red and pink sequins. It’s not just her curly hair that’s let loose, because she’s also gorgeous tired and sweaty.
It’s how she tilts her head and shrugs at me.
How she struggles to suppress an overwhelmed grin.
It’s who she is.
I breathe deeply. She takes a bigger breath.
“Luka,” Katya calls, breaking my trance. She waves a hand in my face. “Did you hear me?”
“What?” I blink a few times. “Sorry.” My sister wears that Calloway Couture charcoal-colored dress, glitzy and shorter than I thought it’d be.
“Can you make sure no one hassles her?” She motions to Camila, who’s hidden by the blanket.
“I have you covered, sister.” That’s Timo, poking his head inside the room from behind me. Beneath the blanket, Camila raises her hand and high-fives Timo.
“I’m heading out with her,” Baylee tells me. “I’ll meet everyone at the club.”
I frown. “You sure?” I fight the urge to reach out and draw her to my chest. Maybe that’s the problem.
Baylee shrugs. “We’ll see each other, right?”
“Right.”
“Then I’m sure.”
Timo and Katya study my interaction with Baylee way too keenly, so I don’t press onward or try to convince her to stay.
My brother and I back up, and together, Bay and Camila slip into the living area, and we walk them to the door while our cousins go wild, almost all of them shouting, “What’s your name?!”
A few try to follow, but I push them back and Timo spins his scepter on them. “I’m the royal guard of the princess. Step back, you fiends.” He hisses.
My smile explodes. It’s impossible not to love Timofei.
Baylee disappears out the door faster than everyone probably realizes. She’s invisible. Like me, but I see her.
I’ve always seen her.
Camila stops by the door frame, sticks her hand out of the blanket, and waves everyone goodbye. She puts her palm to her blanket-covered lips, miming a kiss.
“I love you, princess!” Dimitri shouts from the bar counter. “Thank you for calling my dick massive!”
“TINIEST!” she shouts before darting out of the suite. Timo and I hurriedly shut the door and block about five cousins from chasing after Camila and Bay.
“No,” I repeat in a bored tone. “No.” I push a few off, and they curse at me in Russian. I don’t care.
In a split-second, they all forget about Camila. Their attention swerves onto Katya who comes out in full makeup and a long-sleeved, short dress with a plunged back.
The room falls so quiet that if I shut off the music, you could probably hear a pin drop. No one knows how to react. If they should compliment her or tell her to go change or feel wierded out. She’s the only girl in this generation by blood. And there are very few marriages and even less current relationships.
It’s different for everyone.
Before Katya gets frustrated or annoyed by the silent reaction, Timo and I start dancing our way over to her—which is more like jumping up and down to the beat of a new song. As soon as she sees us, her lips pull in a huge smile.
We reach Kat, and she starts jumping with Timo and me. We sing-song, “You’re seventeen!” And she sing-songs back, “I’m seventeen!”
The music cuts off, but we’re still jumping. Timo flashes Erik his middle finger for silencing us.
I laugh.
Kat laughs, and we only fall to our feet as the chatter escalates and our cousins start tearing at the wrapping paper of the gift they bought.
She already rolls her eyes. “You can open it.”
Thora sidles to Katya and gives her a side-hug. “You look so pretty,” she tells her, which I see makes her light up.
I nod. “You do, Kat.”
“You really think so?” Her voice spikes in surprise, and I wonder…maybe none of us have ever told her how pretty she is. I know our mom never did.
“Really,” I say.
“Thanks, Luk.” Katya laughs at a thought. “You know the funny thing? I don’t think I needed to hear it. I already believed it. Rose Calloway taught me that.”
I smile and nod repeatedly.
“Oh my God,” Katya groans at the sight of the unwrapped gift.
Dimitri motions to a giant gumball machine, and in Russian, he says, “Happy Birthday, Katya.” Our cousins already bombard the machine, and they bemoan at the realization of needing quarters to get a gumball.
I look to Katya. “It’s better than the tennis rackets.”
Timo spins his scepter. “And the Santa statue.”
“Definitely ranks over the boys underwear,” Kat says.
“I don’t know,” Timo says, “I took a pair of those.”
“Me too,” I laugh.
We bump fists, and Katya pushes us lightly. “Traitors.”
We hook our arms around her, and Timo raises his scepter. “To the reddest death!”
Even though I’m smiling, even though everything seems upbeat, my bad feeling—it still hasn’t vanished.
I’m usually afraid of so few things, but fear crawls towards me. I see it coming, and I don’t know how to stop it.