Page 33 of Notes About Vodka

“Anytime. And Laura? Remember, you’re not alone in this.”

As the call ends, I sit there for a moment, staring at the screen. My mind drifts to everything that led up to this—the fear, the hesitation, the pain I’ve carried for so long. But for the first time in what feels like forever, I’m choosing to believe in the possibility of something better. My hands are trembling, but it’s not just from fear. It’s from the resolve slowly building inside me. I’ve been living in fear and shame for too long. It’s time to take back some control, no matter how small the steps feel.

After my appointment at the health clinic, I feel like I’m walking through a fog, every sound muffled and distant, every step heavy and deliberate. The chill in the air brushes against my skin, but it feels like it can’t reach the numbness that’s settled deep inside me. Even the sunlight filtering through the clouds seems dim, as if the world is reflecting the haze in my mind.

The doctors checked me over, asking all the right questions, offering support, but nothing could erase the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Sam’s assaults were something I’d been trying to forget, to push aside as if it never happened, but today, there was no avoiding the truth. The questions from the doctor—“Does it hurt here?” “Did he force you?” “How often has this happened?”—cut through the denial I’d built around myself like a fortress. Their concern, the gentle way they explained the next steps, all forced me to confront the reality I’d been so desperate to ignore.

Hearing the word "rape" spoken out loud, not by me but by someone else, made it undeniable. It wasn’t just a bad memory; it was something real, something wrong.

He hurt me. He violated me.

What started as young love has devolved into a nightmare, and now, the realization sits heavy on my chest like a stone I can’t dislodge.

I make my way to the side of the history building where Val is waiting. I didn’t make it to class—again—because of the appointment, but Val doesn’t need to know that. I can’t handle the possibility of seeing pity in his eyes or hearing questions I’m not ready to answer.

Right now, I just need to focus on feeling normal, even if it’s only for a little while. I’m already too raw to handle his probing questions or well-meaning concern.

Rhea would have come with me to meet up with Val, hovering like the protective soul sister she’s always been, but her linguistic clinic demanded her attention. Before she left, she made me promise to text her if I needed anything.

"Try to have some fun," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "Oh, and about the coffee thing? Didn’t you say he’s Russian? Maybe it’s a cultural thing. Maybe he didn’t mean to mess up."

I’m replaying her words in my head when I spot Val leaning against the building, scrolling through his phone. The bustling noise of students heading to their next classes fades slightly as I take him in. He looks so relaxed, so at ease, as if the weight of the world doesn’t rest on his shoulders like it does on mine.

A soft breeze tousles his dark hair, and when he glances up and catches sight of me, his face breaks into that boyish grin. It’s disarming, the way he can make me forget the weight I’m carrying. For a fleeting moment, the warmth of his expression feels like sunlight cutting through my fog, reminding me that not everything in my life has to feel this heavy.

"Hey," he says, tucking his phone into his jacket pocket. "Ready to try that Mexican place? Or do you want to grab another latte first? I promise, this time I’ll be ready and do better."

I can’t help but laugh, though it comes out softer than I intend. "Oh, so you do learn from your mistakes."

"Occasionally," he teases, holding the door to his car open for me. "But only when it comes to you."

His words catch me off guard, a warmth spreading through my chest despite everything weighing me down. It’s ridiculoushow easily he can disarm me, how just one playful comment can make me feel seen—even when I’m not ready to be.

“So, Tony’s a real control freak, huh?” I say, taking a bite of my taco.

Val laughs. “Yeah, he is. But Dante’s pretty cool. He took me under his wing when I first started. Saw me barbacking at another restaurant one night and decided to help me out. He recruited me toPianissimoand I’ve been there ever since.”

“That’s nice of him,” I say. “So, tell me more about where you are from in Sochi.”

Val pulls out his phone and after typing on the screen, and turns it around for me to see.

I look closer, zooming in on his home town. “It’s a beautiful city and it’s on the ocean. Why did you ever leave?”

“Well,” Val starts, placing his own taco down and rubbing his hand through his hair. “I came here on a student visa, but I got stuck. Didn’t turn in my renewal paperwork in time. Now I can’t go home because I don’t have enough money, and I really can’t stay here because I’m notofficiallyofficial… But I’ve been lucky that people haven’t noticed my residential status. And like I said, Dante has been a big help to get me on my feet without having legal issues.”

“Wow,” I say, taken aback. “That’s quite a story. I guess I should be glad you got stuck or you would never have heard me sing.”

“Thanks,” he says, his smile widening. “And I’m sure I would have found your voice across the big pond we call the Atlantic.”

I giggle—it’s always so easyto talk with Val.

We finish our meal and decide to take a walk in Central Park. As we stroll through the park, the conversation turns to school.

I glance over at Val, curious. "Why are you getting a science degree?" I ask, genuinely interested.

He grins, looking a bit sheepish. "I'm studying chemistry and hospitality. The goal is to open my own organic American restaurant in Russia someday. I want to blend my heritage with my passion for natural, sustainable food. Plus, I know that Russians will love BBQ and tacos."

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