In the subsequent 20th century classes that I attended, I learned quite a few things about Alexei that I would rather not know. According to Ro and Jenna, Alexei was:

One. A firm believer in the principle that nice guys finish last. It took me a while to figure out what this meant, and once I did, I almost choked on the sip of water I was swallowing.

Two. In an on and off "relationship" with a Harvard law student, named Nirvana. After hearing her name I was overtaken by a very strong feeling of kinship –her name was just as weird and ridiculous as mine.

Three. According to many, a future presidential candidate.

Four. Very reluctant to engage in relationships and avoidant of commitment.

And even though my knowledge of Alexei's personal life was increasing by the minute every time I bothered to show up at one of these classes, my knowledge of 20th century literature remained pretty much stagnant.

I didn't really bother to listen to the professor as he drawled on and on about Oscar Wilde. Instead, between my conversations with Ro and Jenna –who were paying about as much attention to the class as me –I spent most of my time drawing the guy with the crooked nose that always sat in the same seat, just a few places away from me.

I was in the middle of finishing another sketch of him during the ten minute break, when a shadow fell over my sketchbook.

I closed it hastily, and looked up to meet a pair of astonishingly green eyes. My breath caught in my throat, and I pressed the sketchbook into my chest, cheeks burning.

"Hey," Alexei said as he settled into the seat next to mine. I resisted the urge to move one seat away from him, and forced a smile.

"H-hey," I muttered.

"The semester is almost over," he began with a small half-smile, "and you've missed more classes than you've attended."

I shrugged.

He pointedly looked at my sketchbook. "And from what I see, you weren't exactly taking notes either."

The way his eyes glinted with mockery made me want to arrange an impromptu meeting between his head and any hard surface available. I clenched my jaw and resolutely kept my eyes down, glaring at my lap.

"Look, do you want me to help you with the final essay?"

My head snapped up in surprise. "Wh-what?"

"I figured that you could use some help for the final essay, since you missed more than half of the classes and you were kind of distracted during the ones you actually did attend." He glanced over at the guy with the crooked nose and my cheeks got even hotter.

"Look, I –I really appreciate the offer, but I'm not actually a student here." I couldn't maintain eye-contact with him for more than a few seconds at a time –there was something really unnerving about the color of his eyes that made my thoughts lose all coherence.

"Huh?" It was his turn to look completely caught off guard. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I don't attend Harvard." Seeing no change in his puzzled expression, I babbled on. "I work at the library two days per week. I just wanted to see what a Harvard class was like." I shut my mouth then, belatedly realizing how pathetic I sounded.

He remained silent, but  his eyes were still wide. "So thanks for the offer, but I won't need the notes." At that, I stuffed my sketchbook into my backpack and stood up. I hovered there, unsure of what to say –or even if I was supposed to say anything. Finally, as the awkward silence continued, I realized that the best course of action was probably to leave. Without further embarrassing myself, I turned on my heel and almost jogged to the exit of the classroom.

I was pushing the door open when Alexei cleared his throat right behind me, and I almost jumped out of my skin in fright, but kept walking until I was outside of the classroom and remotely out of the earshot of the curious people who were looking at us from their seats in the last row. Only then did I turn around to face him.

"I was wondering if you'd like to come to an end of semester party this weekend? It's organized by some guys I know and I thought that you'd like to, I don't know, stop by for a while?"

I was tempted to ask him what made him think that I'd like to attend any party on his invitation, but I didn't –I could never bring myself to be rude, not even to people I despised –not that I despised him. I had a strict "innocent until proven guilty" politic that forbade me from despising people I barely knew. From what I'd seen, he was a rather decent guy, even though his uncanny interest in me was unsettling to say the least.

"Can I just take this lack of response as a yes?" he asked before grabbing my hand out of the blue. I was so surprised that I didn't even think to yank it out of his grasp. He pulled a pen from behind his ear, turned my palm over in his hand –which was covered in various inscriptions –and scribbled an address on the back of mine. "Bring a swimming suit, there's a jacuzzi. See you there?"

My only response was a shrug and a doubtful "maybe."

With one last heart wrenching smile, he walked back into the classroom. As the door clicked shut behind him, I couldn't help but feel like the door to his world had just closed too. In that moment, I realized that there was a divide between everyone in that classroom and me –a divide that was so wide that I couldn't even see the other side of it.

I took one look at the address scribbled on the back of my hand and I knew that I wouldn't attend the party Alexei Romanov had just personally invited me to. I'd been an intruder in this sphere for too long already –it was time to get back to my side of the tracks.

~♠~

"You're going." The finality in Tina's tone didn't allow whiny replies or even counter-arguments.

"No, I'm not."

"Oh, why the hell not?" Tyler asked. "It sounds like a perfect occasion to get some extra work done." He raised his eyebrows at me and I felt my cheeks warm up.

"That... might just be the only valid argument I've heard all day," I admitted unhappily.

"Would it kill you to try and be a bit less antisocial from time to time?" Tina asked, sounding frustrated. "Does everything always need to have an ulterior motive? Why can't you just go out to have fun for once?"

"Because parties aren't my idea of fun," I grumbled angrily. "I just don't enjoy large assemblies of people with access to alcohol and drugs."

"And that's your right," Tyler, ever the diplomatist, conceded. "You don't have to go if you don't want to, you know... It's not like we can force you. All we're saying is that maybe if you gave parties a chance, you might eventually enjoy yourself."

"I'll think about it."

"You don't have time to think about it! It's tonight, Isis! In fact, it's in four hours and you have no outfit, no makeup plan, and your hair... well, it looks like it usually does."

"What is that supposed to mean?" But Tina wasn't listening anymore. She sprang up from my bed was opening the drawers of my dresser and emptying its contents onto my bed. "You really have to do this?" I muttered.

"We need to get you something proper to wear, where did you put those shorts that I made for you last year?"

"It's freezing outside," I reminded her.

"Okay, I'm outta here," Tyler said, wrinkling his nose at the growing stack of clothes on my bed. "I am not fit to give fashion advice."

Tina paused her quest for shorts to give him a quick once over and made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat. "Of all the gay guys out there, I had to get one of those without any kind of fashion sense for a twin." Then her eyes landed on me. "And out of all the girls out there, I had to get one who is completely fashion challenged for a best friend."

"That statement was borderline homophobic," Tyler remarked as he left the room.

"How was it homophobic?!" she yelled after him, and his laughter was the only reply she got. "Ugh, I swear, he can be such a fucking pain in the –oh! I got them!"

She brandished a pair of really short shorts, beaming at me and I sank a bit lower in my bed. "I can't wear these; it's like the freaking North Pole out there!"

"You can wear tights underneath," she said dismissively. "And I know exactly what top you can wear with them. You know the black one with the lacy sleeves and back that I got you for your birthday?" She leaned in to rummage through my drawer once again, until she found what she was looking for. She threw the top at me and put her hands on her hips, assessing me critically. "I think a cat eye would be a safe choice. As for your hair... I don't know what to do with it. Try making a  bun or something."

"We'll have to stop by our place for the finishing touches," she said, as she grabbed her purse from my bed. "Since your makeup supplies are laughable."

I pouted as I gathered the mess of black tops and jeans Tina had left on my bed.

"Meet you by my car in five."

~♠~

Three hours later, I was dressed up, made up and freezing my ass off in Tina's Honda Civic as I drove to the address Alexei had scribbled on the back of my hand three days ago.

The car was filled with the fruity, nauseatingly sweet scent of the body spray Tina had all but drowned me in just fifteen minutes ago and I was almost positive that I was slowly but surely dying of asphyxiation. My hair was tied in a too tight bun that was already giving me a headache and so far, I was bitterly regretting my decision to come to that godforsaken party.

My regret grew exponentially when I parked my car three streets away from the actual location of the party and had to jog there in the high heeled suede ankle boots Tina had loaned me for the night.

Once I got to the huge mansion-type house where the party was held, I was in a rather sour mood. I opened the door brusquely and stomped in, eyes searching for the buffet.

Just then, We Can't Stop started playing, and I groaned. "Jesus, I hate this song."

"Oh em gee, me too!" My head whipped to the side, to find Jenna standing right next to me, holding one red plastic cup in each hand. "I didn't know you'd be here!" she exclaimed, and awkwardly hugged me, careful not to spill the drinks she held onto my outfit. "You look great, by the way. No offense, but I like this better than the black hoodie/black jogging pants look you've got going on most of the time."

"None taken. You look great, as per usual." I said with a weak smile. And she was gorgeous. Her eyes were coated in sparkly eye shadow and she was wearing black faux-leather pants with gorgeous black pumps and a glittery, midnight blue top.

She handed me one of the cups she was holding. "There you go, I was just taking this up to Ro, but you look like you need it more."

I grabbed it reluctantly and took a tiny sip. Surprisingly, it didn't taste foul, like I'd expected it to –it was some sort of alcoholic cocktail and it was sweet and heavenly. "Woah, that tastes pretty great."

"Right? This was supposed to be Ro's fifth, I think, she loves that stuff. Don't worry, I'm keeping an eye on her."

I dubiously eyed the drink she held in the other hand. "Oh that's just plain coke. I'm the designated driver for a bunch of people. I can be yours if you want; I think I have a spot left in my car."

"I'm good, I'm not planning on getting drunk tonight," I admitted, smiling slightly.

"Oh well, if you need a ride later on, you've got my number," she winked at me. "If you want to join us, we're near the patio door, which is at the back of the living room," she pointed one perfectly manicured finger at the huge arched doorways that lead to an elegantly furnished room. "The dance floor is here obviously," she gestured at the mass of people who were grinding and jumping in the fray of scantily clad bodies. "Snacks are that way," she pointed at the entrance to the kitchen that was at the very other end of the huge entrance hall, which had been converted into a dance floor, "and if you need some privacy, there are bedrooms upstairs." At that, she winked at me again. "Don't do anything or anyone I wouldn't do, babe, and see ya around!" she then turned around and sashayed her way toward the living room, her hips moving in rhythm with the music. I was still smiling when I turned around, heading for the kitchen and the snacks she'd mentioned.

Just as I arrived at the Promised Land, I spotted the bar and the bartender, who was mixing a clear blue cocktail –one that had the exact same hue as the one Jenna had handed to me. Licking my lips, I made my way toward it and once I arrived, I spent a good thirty minutes there, chatting with the barman –whom, as I found out, lived rather close to Tina and Tyler –and drinking cocktail after cocktail, until Larry (the barman) told me that I'd probably should take a break and maybe drink some water instead, to which I replied with a laugh that sounded too loud even to my own ears.

I wasn't drunk per se... I was slightly tipsy, admittedly, but not tipsy enough to climb the counter and start stripping like the girl who'd just done so in the kitchen. I was just tipsy enough to shed my shyness, which often happened when I drank a little bit too much. My judgment was still sound, and that's why I actually listened to Larry's advice and slipped off the bar stool I'd been perched on until then. However, I wasn't stable enough to walk in five-inch suede ankle boots, so I took them off, like any respectable slightly drunk girl would do, and stuffed them –with some difficulties – into the purse that Tina had also provided me with.

As I advanced into the crowd, a familiar silhouette stepped into my way. "I thought I saw your hair from afar. I didn't think you'd come." Alexei's voice made chills crawl up my spine –in a pleasant way, which irritated me. I self-consciously touched my hair –which I'd undone at some point during my chat with Larry –and frowned a little as I looked up into his green eyes. That was a strategic mistake. Upon meeting his gaze, my thoughts were completely wiped out for a while.

"Really?" I asked sarcastically, rendered bold by the cocktails I'd ingested, once my mind regained some semblance of coherence. "What made you come to that smart conclusion?"

"You didn't seem particularly thrilled by the invite," he stated, his tone neutral.

"Look, Alex –or Alexis, or whatever your name is," I began, crossing my arms over my chest. "I think that whatever this has been needs to stop now. If it was some sort of bet you made with your friends, then please go on and tell them that you did whatever it was that you were supposed to do and I'll even support your claim if you need me to. But please, for Lord's sake, stop acting like you actually give a shit about me, because you do not."

I knew perfectly well what his name was, but the effect he was having on me at the moment was making me insanely frustrated. The way he looked tonight had my thoughts going down roads they'd never ventured on before. The way his black shirt was just fit enough to give me an sneak peek of what he'd look like without it, and the way his jeans weren't too tight, but just tight enough to let me know that his butt probably looked great without them –all of those small things were making me feel strangely warm and I did not like it. Well, I kind of did. A little.

His eyes narrowed slightly but one corner of his lips turned up in an almost involuntary smile. "There is no bet," he assured me. "And my name is Alexei."

"Well, I'm glad. But I still think that you and I need to go our separate ways."

"Before that, may I ask for a dance?" he offered me his left hand, which was once again covered in scribbles –it was a list of items as well as some weird words in a language I couldn't place.

"Do you always do that?" I asked, pointing at his offered hand.

"It's a bad habit of mine," he said. "I write stuff down on myself so I don't forget about it."

"Hmm," I muttered as I took his hand and examined what appeared to be a grocery shopping list hastily written on his palm.

"So, you wanna dance or not?" he asked again.

"I don't dance," I said quickly and dropped his hand.

"I'll show you," he said, grabbed my hand, and pulled me toward the dance floor. My protests died in my throat as I imagined his body pressed against mine and as Tina's voice echoed in my mind: Why can't you just go out to have fun for once? I could allow myself this one moment of weakness, right? Dancing didn't mean anything and since I already was there, why not have a little fun?

He whirled around to face me once we were surrounded by the dancing mob, and he smiled down at me –another one of his half grins. "This type of music is called bachata," he informed me. "It's not difficult to dance to at all. Two steps to the side, and then you just do that little hip thing," he demonstrated, "but on the opposite side, you see?"

"Yeah, okay," I rolled my eyes, trying to look cool, but I was biting the inside of my cheek nervously.

"Just follow my lead, yeah?"

I nodded just as he grabbed one of my hands again and his other arm snaked around my waist, pulling me closer to him.

I was plunged in a haze of subtle male cologne and I felt my knees weakening a bit. Who knew that this sort of proximity would feel this great?

I did follow his lead and I actually almost felt like I knew what I was doing, until he twirled me around and I ended up pressed even closer to his chest. The arm he'd had wrapped around my waist slipped a bit lower and maybe because Tina's plaintive tone still permeated my thoughts, or maybe because I was more tipsy than I'd initially thought, I let it stay there and let my own fingers slip into his hair. It was as soft as baby feathers.

A small part of me was yelling something about rich boy germs, but the idea of germs was suddenly at the very back of my mind, especially when his green eyes met mine. The song ended and the hand that had been holding my own found its place next to his other one. I still made no move to get away, even when he leaned in, so close that I could feel his breath at my earlobe. Even when his arms tightened around me to lift me up just enough so that his mouth was at my mouth's level.

Even when he said, in a tone that was low enough so that I was the only one to hear it. "I'll make sure that you get my name right next time."

Well, a little fun was about to turn into a lot of fun, if the way his eyes glinted as he said that was any indication.

There was a moment of hesitation, of brief lucidity. This was the kind of guy I usually robbed. The kind of guy whose world didn't expand past his yachts and his six digit vacations. He was the opposite of everything I stood for, of everything I wanted the world to be.

But he was insanely gorgeous.

He was obviously up to no good.

He was, according to rumors, mind-blowingly good in bed.

And as much as I had values and principles... I wasn't incorruptible. I wasn't perfect. I wasn't even remotely good at resisting temptation, especially when it came in the form of chocolate chip ice cream or, as I found out, Alexei Romanov's not-so-subtle offer to make my bed rock. Was it so wrong to want to have a meaningless one night stand with a guy I barely knew? Maybe. Was it bad that I didn't give my virginity enough importance to offer it to someone who meant something to me? Maybe. 

I simply didn't know. All I knew was that in that moment, I wanted Alexei, and that my principles and values be damned, just for this once.

And I knew another thing after that night; Alexei did keep his promises.

I did get his name right this time, once we were locked in one of the bedrooms upstairs, to the point where my throat felt kind of sore.

~♠~

banner on the side by SACrawford

this was not edited, btw!

if you now believe that isis is a "slut", or that any girl who does that kind of stuff is a "slut", please stop reading this story.

this story will be considerably picking up in the action department in the next chapter, can't wait to get it written :D lemme know what you think and thank you for reading :)