Read Still Here for Free Online Page B

too painful, they were discussing Sejun. Sergey said that Sejun was remarkably pretty for such a smart girl. Vica said that first of all that was an incredibly sexist remark and that she didn’t find Sejun all that pretty. Regina started to laugh.
    “Oh, yes, she is very pretty,” Sergey said. “The problem is that she is way out of Vadik’s league.”
    “Why is she out of his league?” Vica asked. “He makes quite a bit of money, doesn’t he?”
    “Right,” Sergey said.
    “Hey, guys,” Vadik said. “I’m sitting right here!”
    But they continued to argue, not paying any attention to Vadik, as if his own opinion didn’t matter.
    “I think I’m still in love with Rachel I,” Vadik said. Regina stopped laughing. And all of them looked away as if he had said something intensely embarrassing.
    Vadik met Rachel I on his very first day in the United States.
    He arrived in New York on a Saturday morning in the middle of winter. It was snowing pretty hard that day. Vadik woke up as the plane started its descent into JFK. He rushed to open the shade on the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of that famous Manhattan skyline. He couldn’t see anything but the murky white mess. It was still thrilling. He could not see the contours of the buildings, but he could sense them right there, right underneath the plane, hidden by the clouds. He felt a familiar surge of excitement, the excitement that had buoyed him for months, ever since he’d gotten that coveted H1-B visa that allowed him to work in the U.S. for three years. He had spent two year in Istanbul and had grown sick of the place. He had celebrated his thirtieth birthday there, but the new decade began in the new country for him. Every now and then he would open his passport and stroke the thin paper of the visa as if it were something alive.
    The announcement came through with the usual crackle. The flight attendant said that it was snowing rather hard and that they might not land in JFK after all, that the plane might be rerouted to Philadelphia. No, no, no! Vadik thought. Landing in Philadelphia would certainly ruin his plans. He was starting work on Monday, as a computer programmer in the corporate offices of EarthlyFoods in Avenel, New Jersey. He was to live in Avenel too, in an apartment provided by corporate housing. Sergey was meeting him at JFK. He was supposed to take Vadik to his and Vica’s house on Staten Island and then drive him to Avenel on Sunday. But Vadik hoped to ask Sergey to take him straight into the city so that he could spend the entire Saturday exploring. He knew exactly what he wanted to do. He wanted to walk the streets without direction, just follow his intuition wherever it might lead him. He wanted to walk like that for hours, then find a bohemian-looking bar, where he would spend the rest of the day with a glass of wine and a book, like a true New York intellectual. And he would wear his tweed jacket. Vadik had put the jacket on before boarding the plane, because he hadn’t wanted to put it in the suitcase where it might get wrinkled. He had spent a lot of time choosing the book to read in that bar. Something French? Sartre’s
Nausea
? Gilles Deleuze’s
Cinema I
? And no, this wasn’t sickeningly pretentious. Vadik wasn’t doing it to make an impression on other people. He did want to be seen as a charismatic tweeded intellectual, but it was more important to him to be seen as such in his own eyes.
    Vadik looked out the window again. It seemed like they were suspended in the clouds. Vadik closed his eyes and concentrated on willing the plane to land at JFK. He imagined the hard body of the plane pushing through the sticky mass of clouds, emerging in a clean empty space between sky and ground, and then sliding down in one bold determined move until its wheels touched the runway. The cabin erupted in applause, and for a second Vadik thought that the applause was meant for him.
    “Can you take me to the city?” Vadik asked