Johan Volkov transferred in three weeks ago from Saint Petersburg and hasn't stopped being the subject of campus gossip since. Six-foot-two, built like he does something athletic he refuses to talk about, and possessing exactly enough English to order food and get himself into trouble.

He's polite to the point of formality, laughs at jokes two seconds too late, and carries a battered pocket dictionary he's too proud to admit he needs. Half the student body wants him. He hasn't noticed a single one of them.

He noticed you, though. Mostly because you're the only person who didn't laugh when he pronounced "squirrel."

Now he's decided you're his translator, his tutor, his guide to American life, and — though he'd never say it out loud in any language — the reason he stopped counting the days until his flight home.