Page 238 of Filthy Lies

My cheeks flushed.

Me:Yes.

Maxim:The kitten has claws.

My other hand balled into a fist.

Me:Do you have a problem with that?

Maxim:Why would I?

Me:My father would have.

Maxim:Your father was a mudak.

Me:You wouldn’t have called him a shithead if he were alive.

Maxim:He isn’t though, is he?

Me:No.

Maxim:And isn’t life much better for it?

His words should have hurt me, but they were true.

Me:Why do you always answer my texts, Maxim?

Maxim:I like to know you’re safe.

Me:I mean nothing to you. I’m no one.

Maxim:That’s not true.

Me:It isn’t?

Maxim:No.

I had no idea why I typed my next message, but I needed to get the words out. Had to. It was imperative.

Me:I want to go to college.

Maxim:Then go to college you will.

Me:You wouldn’t have a problem with that?

Maxim:Why would I?

Me:I’m not naive, Maxim.

Maxim:I think you are, but I do not see naivety or innocence as a curse. My childhood was stolen from me, katyonok, at too young an age. As someone who starved, who hurt, who bled to stay alive, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Certainly not you.

Me:What am I to you?

Maxim:I think you know this. Naive or not.

Me:Tell me.

Maxim:You are my future, katyonok.

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