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When John proposed the idea, it completely baffled Katya. Her husband had never been the sharpest tool in the shed, but even this was a bit too much for him. Katya had a fleeting thought she had married an idiot when the words left his mouth, but, alas, her partner did nothing with any malicious intent, and he knew Katya far too well for his suggestion to be some silly joke or unplanned-out thought he randomly had.
"They want to meet you, and none of them speak English, Kat! Do it for them. For me!"
Do it for me.
The idea was preposterous, but Katya loved her husband more than most things in this world, and the idea of disappointing him—and his weird Ukrainian family—was enough to make her suck up all her underlying doubts, gather up all her scarce credit cards (she wasn't the richest person in the room, for sure), and book a monthly membership in the Polyglot School. Had Katya known that four years of marriage would lead her to this moment where she was paying for three, one-hour classes a week to learn Ukrainian so she could finally meet her husband's non-English-speaking family, she probably would have never even gotten married.
Katya still booked the classes though, the money she could've spent on coffee now instead spent on her husband's family; and John was happier than she could've imagined, which made her happier than she could've imagined being after paying a copious amount of money for Ukrainian classes. She understood that this may not be the absolute worst thing she spent $110 on. Still, none of that stopped her from whining and bitching about it inwardly. Each time she made a move to cancel the goddamn course—usually after some odd craving she now had to stop herself from spending money she didn't have on—John would give her the softest of looks, and she would cave in like a little bitch.
Katya couldn't help herself with her husband—he was irresistible with his soft chocolate brown eyes that made him look like a little puppy. She was sure that if she were to even insinuate she canceled, or was planning on canceling the already paid course, all he would need to do is pout, and she would be a goner, re-booking and repaying.
Ugh.
Katya had never been a school person. She got through the horrors of high school, somehow, spending more time getting friends than getting good grades, and college was completely out of question, despite her parents almost forcing her to enroll. School simply did not matter in the grand scheme of Katya Jenkins'—now Poschkovich's—life. It was as inconsequential as it could be when you grew up with a somewhat broken-up family with more health issues than the local hospital. She opted for wrapping up the four meaningless grades, went into McDonald's with all the pride she could muster the day after graduation, and now she was the manager of Wendy's with a pretty good husband. She'd say school was pretty unnecessary for her happiness.
And yet, because of the great husband she had, Katya was here, in the fucking classroom in the middle of Northside Chicago—she grew up on the East, but it was all still too pretentious, even for her—sitting in the back, just like she did, years before, in Eastside High. She embedded in her bones early on to be seen as the rebel-ish, non-committed student (God, she was almost thirty, ew), and Katya presented it through her altogether demeanor with her style, makeup, and resting bitch face. But she wasn't in high school anymore, and her style and makeup had shifted from emo rebel to business causal over the years, so all she had to use in her defense was her resting bitch face and her old-school habits.
Sit in the back, don't smile, don't talk, be invisible yet out-standing.
Katya wondered if this world of bilinguals who were learning languages for their own pleasure (who even did that?) would even spare her a second thought.
It didn't matter, really. It wasn't as if she could not try. She was here for John, and his big Ukrainian family that didn't speak English, that she was finally meeting after so many years of dating and being married to their son, and, fuck, she couldn't let John down with this. Sucking all her doubts, prejudice, and worries up, she made a conscious decision to give it her fucking all, get through the month unscathed, and just try to learn as much fucking Ukrainian as she could.
For John.
She didn't know how fun it would actually be, especially not when she met Ian and Mickey.
Gay as fuck. Southside as fuck. And dope as fuck.
Even though she knew that not everybody in this fucking class was going to be a rich, snobby asshole, she wasn't expecting to meet two people—or maybe just one person and their companion—who were even more judgemental than she was (which was saying a lot), and yet she did, and they showed up, unannounced, in Katya's life in the form of a tall ginger and a guy with crude tattoos, and a resting bitch face that could make you shit your pants on sight. His RBF rivaled Katya's. And that was, again, saying a lot.
Katya liked them the moment they sat down near her own table in the back, and the moment she heard the short one talking about the shit you make me do.
"First pilates, now this? I'm one idea of yours away from divorce, Ian."
She noticed they were gay immediately after that, but she also understood they weren't like the others in the class. Again, not everybody was a snob just because they were in the Northside, but five out of ten people were, and Katya was so happy she found two who had humor so akin to hers. They obviously weren't North-siders, and she had an inkling feeling they were from the South, although she didn't dare judge.
(Was that judging?)
The guys were better than any soap opera she had seen as a teen.
The tall guy had simply laughed at his husband's words, and it had forced Katya to hold in her own snorts. It was even worse when the comments during class started rolling in.
It was painfully obvious that Ukrainian was anything but easy, and it was pretty clear that most people (seven out of the present ten) did not know what they were even looking at, one of them being Katya, naturally. But, even though Katya didn't know what half of the words, pronunciation or any of the other language shit meant, she enjoyed the wretched hour of learning—ew—by listening to the couple bickering about how stupid all of it really was.
Well, the brunette at least. The ginger just nodded along or shushed him. They weren't loud enough for anybody other than Katya to hear them, so it made it all a thousand times better.
"Ian, this is stupid."
"No, it isn't."
"Gallagher, I know all this shit, let's just leave."
"Good for you. Now shut up."
"I'll blow you every single day for the rest of our miserable lives if you just let us leave."
"You do that anyway. No."
What came even as a bigger surprise, once class went on, and it forced people to interact and talk about the shit they were learning, was, although seemingly unsocial, the guy who whined just as much as Katya did (maybe even more), was actually pretty good at Ukrainian. He knew how to speak it better than anybody else in the small classroom did, and his husband was very much unlike Mickey—whose name she had learned during the interactions—and he sucked just as much as Katya did.
That was mostly what prompted Katya to spark up a conversation with the two men for the first time. They were only in their second class of the month. The groups of people were filtering in through the door; there weren't many, so naturally, people started genuinely talking amongst each other, leading to conversations that had nothing to do with Ukrainian, something Katya was simply unfamiliar with—socializing wasn't her strongest point. And yet, she couldn't help but feel compelled to talk to Ian and Mickey when they walked through the door, a scowl on Mickey's face, and a smile on Ian's, and settled themselves down in their seats.
"I'm telling you, man. This shit's unnecessary."
"Mick, you say that about everything you don't want to do."
"Yeah, but this is really unnecessary."
"Hey." She interrupted their conversation and found herself at the receiving end of two completely different looks—confused and annoyed.
"Yeah?" Mickey asked, and she had no intention of extending her hand for an introduction. The only human touch she could fathom was her sister's and husband's. So instead, she just filled the silence.
"I'm Katya. I was just wondering why you're in this class. You seem like you already know Ukrainian pretty well."
Mickey's face lit up, and he turned to Ian. "See? I don't need to even be here, I know this shit."
"Yeah, well, I don't. And, you're rusty."
"I'm not rusty, man. You just want company."
"I want to learn!"
"We're paying double unnecessarily."
When Ian pouted, it reminded her so much of John. She couldn't help but laugh. When they glanced at her quizzically, she sheepishly admitted, "You remind me of me and my husband." Ian raised his eyebrows, and she continued. "He wants me to learn Ukrainian so I could meet his family. They don't speak English."
"He speaks fluently?" Mickey asked, and she turned to him, nodding. He had a little smirk on his face that suggested more than his words led on; he looked like he was winning an argument. "And, he's not here with you as moral support?" He asked, additionally.
Katya smiled as Mickey repeated to Ian, "See?" His husband had obviously lost some inside battle they were leading.
"Ugh, fine. We can cancel after this." Ian relented, and Mickey's smirk widened.
"We?"
Ian nodded, "Um, yeah?"
"Oh, no. You're going to keep going. I want to be like this chick's husband." He pointed at Katya. "Morally supportive from afar."
Katya nodded. "Works like a charm. And Ian, if he's persistent, you won't be able to get out of it."
John wasn't persistent per se, but his persistent facial expression—the ones where he looked like a kicked puppy whenever she whined about having to get ready to leave to this goddamn school (it was barely even a school, more like a dingy basement)—were enough to guilt-trip her unintentionally, anyway.
Mickey gave Katya a once over before starting to Ian, matter-of-factly, "I like her."
Ditto.
And as they fell into meaningless banter about marriage, the shit you do for love, and how weird the professor actually is with his odd accent (Mickey's words, not hers), Katya felt like she made two new friends.
Ian and Mickey were a pretty cool distraction from the boredom of class she was, for the second time in her life, forced to take.
The things you did for love.
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Mickey didn't show up the next class, and Katya knew why immediately. The men did have a pretty thorough conversation in front of her a couple of days ago, how them spending money on Mickey learning a language he already knew was pretty unnecessary.
Ian only confirmed her suspicions.
"We got a refund for him, but he's making me learn it, anyway."
"Why did you even sign up in the first place? Mickey seemed to know it pretty well." Katya had a pretty good excuse why she was here—she and John were finally planning on traveling to Ukraine to meet his parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, grandparents, and cousins—and she wondered what prodded Ian and Mickey to deal with the monstrosity that was this course.
Ian didn't shy away from answering. "Mickey's family is Ukrainian. We started talking about some shit a few weeks ago, where I found out he actually knows the language a little. I recommended he polish it up, and I learn it. He was against the pilates, so this was the next best thing. I had no idea he actually knew this shit."
Mickey and pilates didn't really go together in Katya's mind, and she realized how lucky Mickey was to get out of one of two evils his husband forced him to choose. Still, she didn't know or understand how somebody who looked like Mickey—here she was again, judging—would genuinely enjoy school over working out.
But hey, to each his own.
"Is Mickey Ukrainian?"
Ian made an eh gesture. "He was born here, but he obviously grew up in a Ukrainian household since he speaks it so well. He's never been though."
"Neither have I, but like, I really want to go there. My husband's crazy about his hometown."
"Yeah, and you're going to visit soon, right? That's why you're studying the language, right?" He chuckled as he pointed to the blackboard with the weird scribbles on it (also known as the Ukrainian alphabet, but whatever).
"Yeah, kind of nervous about it. They don't speak English and this," She referred to the course as a whole, "really isn't doing it for me."
Ian nodded slowly along with her. "Trust me. I know the feeling."
They both had husbands who spoke Ukrainian better than the two of them combined, and both of them were forcing them to go to this stupid course—Mickey maybe forcing Ian on Katya's course—and they were both shit at it.
"I can't believe we still have two weeks of this." She muttered.
Ian scoffed. "I probably wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for you and your comment about your husband supporting you 'from afar'."
Katya laughed, knowing Ian was simply teasing her. "Yeah, sorry about that. Wasn't my intention."
"Yeah, Mickey's been looking for a way to screw me over ever since I made him do the pilates and school shit. Don't blame him."
Neither did Katya. Mickey really didn't same like the pilates or school type. The revenge was suitable.
"And, now, you're here."
He rolled his eyes. "It all kind of backfired on me. It's not as fun without him."
She agreed. Mickey's comments made the time she spent in the first two classes actually worth it. They were like some prime cable soap opera/ Telenovela. Ian's chill demeanor was close enough, though. It was really easy to talk to him, and he definitely wasn't as brooding or closed-off as his husband was.
Ian was the sort of guy who fit in amongst this Northside crowd—not as much as some would, but enough that Katya probably wouldn't have been able to discern him from them had it not been for Mickey. Still, so far the conversations she led with him were enjoyable enough to maybe slightly replace the excitement of listening to the bickering of the couple. The one that was now gone since half of the said couple was way too good for dumbasses like them.
In the short time she had spent chatting with Ian, she learned that he and Mickey had been married for two years, that they were from the Southside but lived on the Westside, and that they had a dog named Bazooka.
Katya considered the name strangely fitting for Ian and Mickey, and she didn't even know them that well.
"She's a Pitbull. Baz for short. It was the only way Mickey was getting a bazooka in the house."
Huh. Interesting man.
Besides learning about the strange lives of Ian Gallagher and Mickey Milkovich (do all Ukrainian names end in -vich?) only got better when Patrick joined the class.
Patrick—just like any other average male; average height, brown hair, brown eyes. He didn't seem Northside, but he didn't seem like he was anything akin to a gangster you'd find in the South, either. Patrick seemed like an okay guy, and he was easy to talk to—which also translates to he wasn't a snob in Katya's mind—and he even had some extensive knowledge of Ukrainian. He wasn't even nearly as interesting as Mickey, but Katya took all the entertainment she could get.
One other fun fact about Patrick: he was obviously gay.
Even Ian confirmed it to Katya, whispering to her in the middle of one of the classes they were forced to sit through, how his gaydar was pinging, making her laugh. She had received odd looks, especially from Patrick, but it wasn't as if she cared.
It was all very unceremonious from that point on—Ian was the only fun thing in the class, but even he alone wasn't enough to quench her brain-numbing boredom. She felt jealous Ian had Mickey to go back home to. At least it was never boring.
But Katya was wrong for underestimating her good karma because suddenly, things became a lot more interesting.
It was only when Patrick started making obvious heart eyes at Ian by class five that Katya became completely intrigued and immersed in the upcoming (and it was coming) drama.
It was painfully obvious Patrick was gay, and, honestly, there was nothing stopping him from appreciating the hotness that was Ian Gallagher, especially not if Ian's husband wasn't there to mark his territory—like he did when the first and only girl approached Ian to ask for his number—so Patrick just blatantly kept on crushing.
It was subtle at first. Sitting closer to Ian. Asking for advice, even though Ian knew as much Ukrainian by now as Katya did (which was fucking none). Wanting to partner up with him for certain assignments (even though he was Katya's partner, fuck him very much).
Patrick's crush was subtle enough that it didn't stick out to anybody who wasn't outright looking out for the small displays of interest he was showcasing or wasn't just naturally perceptive like Katya had been her entire life.
Katya had also gone through her entire life appreciating soap operas greatly (she was still a fan of Jane the Virgin, and binged it nightly), and she knew drama when she saw one.
Ian was taken. Mickey was a somewhat scary Southside thug (she was aware she was judging, yes!), and there was another man blatantly drooling over Ian.
This would be the time the narrator would scream Love triangle! dramatically. She stopped herself from doing just that.
Ian and Mickey were, by all she had gathered so far, a very strong couple, and Katya doubted Ian would give Patrick the light of day.
But, oh well. She was very much happy he did.
Despite believing that, eventually, Ian would catch on to Patrick's futile attempts at flirting and point out that he was, indeed, taken, Ian somehow managed to, not only gloss over all of those sultry stares and casual touches completely but also reciprocated. Katya didn't know if it was for show or if Ian simply had no clue Patrick was interested, but he did nothing to insinuate he was actually in a married relationship with another dude.
He dropped the M-bomb occasionally—the guy just couldn't stop himself from mentioning Mickey a couple of hundred times an hour (Mickey this, Mickey that)—but Patrick had no idea who Mickey even was, so it was, once again, inconsequential when it came to stopping Patrick from making a move (or moves, since there were multiple).
And maybe it was Ian's fault for being so friendly because each time Patrick—oh no, call me Pat—asked him a question in what was really just a shitty attempt at courting, Ian wouldn't reply curtly in a way that suggested he wasn't interested.
No—the guy actually talked to Patrick "call me Pat".
If Katya hadn't known how absolutely mesmerized Ian was with his husband—he really did talk about him all the time, not that Katya minded—she would've thought he was down for Pat. But Katya knew better, and Ian was just obliviously talkative and friendly.
To a great extent.
"You like movies?" Patrick would ask while they were studying about media in Ukraine. Another random, unimportant thing she would most certainly not remember.
"Yeah, Mick and I watch them all the time." There goes the M-bomb.
He doesn't know who Mickey is, you doofus.
"What's your favorite?" Patrick "call me Pat" would prod, obviously trying to deepen the conversation while simultaneously appraising Ian and his body with his eyes.
Ian would laugh. It was something one might consider flirting, but it was instead a sort of nostalgic laugh with Ian's eyes being glazed over as he obviously remembered some fond memory. "Anything with Van Damme."
"Oh? Why?"
"Because he could totally kick Seagal's ass."
Katya had no idea what that meant, but neither did Pat, so she hoped he'd get the hint it was some sort of inside joke he probably had with his husband, who Ian most certainly did have.
(Katya actually did not hope Patrick would figure it out because all of this shit was the only thing enjoyable enough to get her through the three hours per week without rolling over and dying.)
She considered relieving Patrick's pain a couple of times (mostly in the moments she felt guilty about enjoying observing somebody get led on, and seeing how Ian was obviously not going to do it himself) by telling him who Mickey was. He had been mentioned far too many times for Patrick not to have formed some sort of theory as to who he was to Ian—but each time she selfishly considered how her prime source of entertainment would be gone; she kept her mouth shut.
It wasn't her place, anyway.
If she was already paying $110 for this, the least she could do was get some extra television.
But Patrick's attempts started dwindling.
Katya had been talking to Ian for long enough to know that he most certainly hadn't caught on to any of Patrick's flirting.
Perhaps Patrick figured out Ian wasn't interested himself? She was there for almost every conversation they led, so she knew Ian hadn't accidentally uncovered who Mickey was yet.
Oh no. How was she going to get through all of this now? John was so happy she had finally learned how to address people in Ukrainian and she had been getting far too good of sex to be quitting now.
But how could she get through it without the latest Ian-Mickey-Patrick drama?
So, as a complete and utter bitch who doesn't give a fuck, she decided to spice it up.
What soap opera doesn't have a villain?
She had always wanted to be one.
"Hey, Pat?" Katya asked one day as she was waiting for the boring-as-fuck class to begin.
The man turned to her with a small smile—Ian still wasn't here, so she considered it the perfect opportunity to complicate things even further. Grinning mischievously, she asked, eyebrow quirked, "You like Ian, don't you?"
He returned her smile, albeit sheepishly. "Is it that obvious?"
Yes. "Only to me."
Patrick seemed torn between relieved and anxious. "He still hasn't caught on, huh? I sort of gave up after the first couple of tries. He's clearly not into me."
"Maybe you should double your efforts?" Katya swore she was a good person. "I honestly think he's interested."
Patrick's eyes widened. "Really?"
She nodded at him. "Yes! If he hasn't caught on by now, you just need to try harder."
Patrick nodded along with her, a full-blown grin appearing on his face. "Yeah. You're right, I will."
Her plan was perfect. The flirting would continue and she would continue enjoying watching both Ian and Patrick react in ways that gave off a completely different vibe than what they really were—interested in Pat's case, really friendly in Ian's. And eventually, the whole thing would get uncovered and Katya will have already been done with the course long enough to care about the consequences.
She really wasn't a bad person. Just bored.
Katya understood she was somewhat of a bitch, but John was making her to do this for him, and the least she could do is have some fun with it.
The moment Ian seated himself down next to Katya, she began watching it all unfold.
Patrick turned to Ian enthusiastically. "Hey, so, you heard about that new Thai place that opened around here?"
Ian shook his head at Patrick, and Katya noticed the slight hesitation in his response. "No?"
"You like Thai food?" Pat continued with just as much enthusiasm, and Katya was aware she had brought this upon Ian, who was squirming in his seat.
Oh God, had he figured it out?
Oh God, what had she done?
"Haven't really tried a lot. Mickey and I prefer Chinese."
Ask who Mickey is Patrick. Ask who he is.
"Well, it's really good. You should totally check it out."
Ian, he's suggesting with him! But you're thinking about Mickey!
What had she done!?
Ian nodded slowly, as if thinking it over, but Katya knew the gig was up. Ian had figured it out.
"So, what do you do for a living?"
Katya mentally applauded Patrick for finally moving on from the Ukrainian-based questions and on to the personal ones. Katya actually had no idea what Ian did for a living, so she perked her ears up to listen, even though she knew this was probably as awkward for him as she could possibly imagine.
"I actually run a security business with Mickey"
Ask who Mickey is, Patrick. Ask who Mickey is.
It was like watching a Telenovela.
"Mickey's your bro--,"
He, unfortunately, got interrupted by the professor who was beginning the class, and Katya cursed whoever was running this shit for ruining the moment of truth.
Mickey is most certainly not Ian's brother.
Ew.
And it was so painfully obvious that Ian had finally figured it all out. It was in the way he sat rigid in his seat, eyes half on the professor, half on Patrick, who was sitting contently in his own seat.
Ian seemed like he was ready to disappear.
The whole thing made Katya even more panicked when Patrick whispered to her, out of the blue, "I'm going to ask him out after class. I think he likes me too."
It was about to get revealed, wasn't it? The accumulation of almost three weeks of flirting and obliviousness was coming to its pinnacle.
And when Katya saw Mickey waiting for Ian in front of the classroom after the class was dismissed, she held in a surprised and anxious squeal.
Mickey never waited for Ian after class.
Oh, God.
Patrick had held Ian back as soon as they began vacating the classroom, and Katya knew he was planning on asking him out on a date.
And she also knew that Ian knew that.
And now Mickey was here and oh my God, this was not easy!
She was basically the catalyst for it all! If she hadn't told Patrick that Ian was interested, this probably wouldn't even be happening right now.
Why was she so stupid?
As soon as Mickey noticed her, she waved a hand at him, not even sticking around long enough to say hi. She simply passed his form as he was casually leaning against the wall, phone in hand, ducking behind a nearby wall. It was near enough for her to see what was happening and hear it as well.
Shit was about to go down.
Feeling like a complete asshole, she stood to observe.
A wave of cringe passed over Katya, coursing through her entire body as she watched Ian exit the classroom, Patrick in tow. She felt so unbelievably embarrassed for Patrick "call me Pat"—she was also praying for him to get out of the upcoming altercation without a scar. Mickey didn't seem like the type to just not care about his husband being flirted with. She also prayed that she didn't get bitch-slapped along the way, although she definitely deserved it.
Mickey's face looked as if he had swallowed a sour lemon once he locked his gaze on Ian and Patrick.
Ian didn't seem too deterred though, and when Katya saw Ian introducing Patrick to Mickey, she watched, mouth agape.
"Mick, this is Patrick. Patrick, this is Mickey, my husband."
Patrick scratched at the back of his head, awkward. "Good to meet you, Mickey. Ian does not stop talking about you."
What the fuck?
"Oh, yeah?" She saw Mickey smile slightly at Ian (it wasn't even a smile, just a tiny quirk of his lips) and then grimace right after as he faced Patrick again. "You're the guy who's been hitting on my husband?"
Patrick seemed to wince. "Miscommunication. I figured out you guys weren't just friends only today."
Mickey snorted. "Trust me, we're not just fucking friends. We've been together for years now."
"Yeah," Patrick repeated.
"And we're really in love."
"Yeah,"
"And Ian's definitely not going to go out with a twink like you."
"Mickey!"
"Yeah,"
"Not when he's got me."
Ian's eyes were comically wide. "Okay!" He drawled out. "I'm sorry about that, Patrick."
Patrick didn't seem too bothered by it all, even though Mickey's twink comment was anything short of brutal. "Don't worry about it. I figured it out when I connected all the dots. When Ian told me Mickey was his husband, it became painstakingly clear he was completely in love with you."
Mickey's expression softened for a moment.
"He really doesn't stop talking about you," Patrick finished adeptly. Mickey seemed slightly speechless, and mostly just stunned.
"And I figured out," Ian began loudly, piercing through the thick cloud of emotion effectively, "that somebody had been egging Patrick on, telling him I was interested."
Mickey turned to look between Patrick and Ian sharply, and Katya's eyes widened.
It was only when Ian locked eyes with her, even while she was behind the wall, that she knew she was completely and utterly fucked.
"Who the fuck did that?"
Ian moved away from the two men and faced Katya, who was slowly coming up from behind the wall.
It was stupid to hide now.
"Katya. Good to see you haven't missed out on the drama."
Katya winced at Ian's choice of words.
She was about to defend herself when Mickey slowly walked over to her, murder in his eyes. "You were trying to set them up?"
If Katya could do anything, she could most definitely hold her own, so she jutted out her chin and feigned nonchalance.
Katya wasn't scared of Mickey Milkovich.
(Katya was lying.)
She was about to defend herself again, but Patrick interrupted her forthcoming monologue about how un-wrong this whole thing was.
"Yeah, she said Ian was obviously interested and that I should up my efforts. That's why I asked you out."
The words momentarily swayed Mickey. He turned to Patrick. "You asked him out?" Before Patrick could answer, he turned to Ian. "And you seemed interested?"
It was mayhem, and Katya was distraught.
"No! I just didn't know he liked me until today! As soon as he asked me out, I explained that I was happily married."
"Took you long to figure it out," Katya mumbled under her breath.
"Actually, I was the one who figured it out." They all turned to Mickey. "Ian kept on talking about this guy," He pointed a finger at Patrick. "and how he wanted to partner up for shit, and kept on talking to him, and since Ian's a dumbass, I put two and two together for him. That's why he finally broke it down for you today. The guy's taken, and I'm here to tell you that, just in case you didn't get the memo."
"Noted." Pat nodded and smiled at the two of them. It was awkward and forced, and Katya was so jealous when he muttered a quick, "Anyway, gotta catch my bus. See ya' next week where I won't be flirting with you, Ian."
And he then made his grand escape.
Katya was now all alone.
Oh no.
"You," Mickey said.
"Patrick told me you told him to try harder and that you thought I was interested, but you knew I was married?" Ian added, obviously confused as to what her intentions were.
No clue, Ian. No clue.
"You," Mickey repeated.
Katya relented, taking a step back. "Ugh, yes, fine! I was the one who told him you were interested. I was bored, okay!?"
"You sicced a twink on my husband." Mickey narrowed his eyes at her.
"Well, I just, sort of, aided it a little." She kept on digging her own grave.
"You had a guy flirt with my husband for your own enjoyment after I said I liked you."
Okay, yeah, she was an asshole. There was no other excuse left.
"I'm actually really sorry about all of this. I really was just bored, and I don't know what I was thinking when I did it." She turned to Ian. "Sorry, Ian. I'm such a bitch."
Ian didn't seem half as angry as Mickey. "Don't worry about it. It's all cool." He shrugged.
She knew things would never go back to normal between them, and that class would probably be really awkward from now on, but she could manage. They could manage.
It was all going to be fine.
"Oh, and before I forget," Mickey turned to Ian. "You're quitting."
"Wait, what?"
"Huh?"
Mickey simply continued. "I leave you alone for three hours a week, and you acquire an enemy and a twink."
"I'm not an enemy," Katya mumbled again, as Ian said, "Mick, come on."
"No discussion." He gripped Ian's hand in his. "It's a waste of time. The classes aren't even doing anything. You speak even worse Ukrainian than you did before."
"Hey! That's not true." Ian seemed genuinely offended. His lower was lip jutted out in a small pout.
Mickey just sighed as he said, "ти такий дурний, і все ж я так тебе люблю. [You're so stupid, and yet I love you so much]"
Ian and Katya both just stared at him. They had been learning this shit for a month, and yet—nothing.
She had no clue what the fuck he had just said, and, judging by the look on Ian's face, neither did he.
"See?" Mickey told his husband. "Case and point."
With one last glare from the brooding thug (she was now openly judging), and a muttered "bye" from Ian, they were walking out the door, Mickey pulling Ian by his hand, leaving Katya all alone in the hallway in front of the classroom.
Huh.
This course wasn't nearly as boring as she thought it would be.
The whole thing may have backfired in her face at the end, but at least she had a fun story to tell John while she explained why she quit the classes.
Because she was one hundred percent quitting her classes now
There was no way she could go back to class and face Patrick now. Not when she literally lied to him and told him he needed to try harder with Ian when she knew he was married.
There was no way she could handle that embarrassment.
She went over the excuse she would use with John to explain why she quit.
It all had to do with a gay guy, his husband, and a twink...
Maybe she should write a book about it; call it My Ukrainian Love. It would be longer than a Tolstoy novel.
She snorted at herself as she pulled out her phone to call John. If he started acting like an asshole about it, she'd just threaten with divorce—it always worked like a charm.
She briefly thought back to the whole situation; she really was a major bitch.
Oh well.
Fuck Ukrainian.
There was a reason everybody learned English, anyway.