I am starting a rather sad page of my life for me personally. Now, remembering the past, I wonder how I could be so blind to make a mistake? Heart pain overwhelms me when I remember all this: But I will be consistent

I then studied in the tenth grade, with a gymnasium bias. Who does not know what it is, I will explain: this is a class where foreign languages, literature and Russian are intensively studied. There was still such a thing: a second foreign language. The one who taught English additionally taught German, and the one who taught German French. So here. We had a German teacher. In manners, habits - clean pedril. Voice, horon: (Yes, what am I going to tell you, have you not seen the pedril?). But, however, he had a wife - a French teacher (here is a little family, right?). They were young people and they did not have children.

And there was in our class a wonderful girl, as I initially thought. Her name was Ira. Ah, Ira, Ira: When I remember you, I am choked with tears, and a lump forms in my throat and my heart starts to ache, and my heart beats faster. She seemed to me the best girls on the planet. Wonderful figure, pleasant voice, kind blue eyes, regular features. Do not think that I wanted to sleep with her then - on the contrary, I wanted to caress her, protect her from the cold wind and the scorching sun, and take care of her as if she were a child. I wanted to share food, shelter and much more with her: But never, hear, I never wanted to have sex with her! She was like a saint to me. She was so much like my mother: But, apparently, fate revealed to me her true face.

She came to our class when we were all learning a second language. She could not study with us - she did not know the alphabet or the rules of pronunciation, but she was not taught in her school. That made our leadership (head teacher, class teacher) so that she would study German separately on the second shift, with the same teacher-pedrilu as with us. We must pay tribute to him, he knew German very well and used to help our boys with the translation of the lyrics of German-speaking rock bands. We were all all obsessed with Rammstein and the like.

It was because of Rammstein that I began to show interest in the German language. I bought dictionaries, began to study the semantics of the language, features of modern spoken German, and much more. Soon I reached certain heights in German and was the best student in the class on this issue. I often let my classmates write off their homework, wrote cool essays and always prompted them in class. Our fagot (his name was, by the way, Dmitry Vladimirovich) could not get enough of me and always set me up as an example to the rest.

So, one day, at recess, Dmitry Vladimirovich came up to me and said: "Sergei, you will not help me." I told him: “What happened, the Führer Main (this is how we sometimes made fun of him)?”. He: "Why, you're a capable guy, won't you help me train a new one?" I: "With joy, and when to come?". He: "Why, on the second shift, at three o'clock." I: “Well, when shall we start?”. He thought a little and said: "I think from the day after tomorrow." And left.

I was in seventh heaven! It is necessary - to help my beloved in mastering the language of Schiller and Goethe! There is a real opportunity to get to know each other. Maybe even find out where she lives. Ah, if I knew how cruel fate was, I would immediately rip out my heart and throw out from the soul all the feelings of love for the one that subsequently deceived me. But, apparently, the evil rock directed me along that path to show where love sometimes leads:

However, I continue: I arrived at the exact appointed time. Irina was already there. When she saw me, she made, as our historian puts it, “square eyes” and asked in surprise: “What are you doing here?”. And I answered her: “I will help you in mastering this complex language.”In her eyes, a shadow of annoyance slipped, she lowered the corners of her lips down and sighed: “Can't you do without it?” I (with humor) said to her: “Nah, by all means!”. She, too, smiled, a phase flashed from her lips: “Well, fine!” And we went to class.

Frankly speaking: she was a rather stupid student. No, when we passed the alphabet, no difficulties were felt, but when it came to grammar (in German, it is rather confusing) here, as they say: "Put out the light, drain the water!". Well, she did not have the ability to language, not - lo, you know? I myself have hardly mastered a part of German grammar, and even now I don’t really remember how to spell. But SO not to learn - it must be a rare fool. Or maybe she did not want? Who will understand it?

From the fact that she did not learn German, my feelings for her did not change, and even more intensified. I met her twice a week in this German elective and managed to learn all her abilities to language perception. Oh, how I wanted then that she told me in Russian, at least, said: "I love you!". But apparently, it was not given to me.

The German really appreciated my help and for every such elective I put five in my journal. Thus, my solid five in German language has become a reinforced concrete. Of course, I was happy and my parents.

Well, I got to the place where you need to tell the sad part of the story. I do not want, gentlemen, good, to write this, well, I do not want to! But you have to:

Once we had another such elective. I must tell you that for every lesson I took with me a thick German-Russian and Russian-German dictionary. He rescued me more than once in difficult situations. But he was quite large in size and size, and had to carry him. It is difficult to carry such a load, but, in principle, it was easy for me. After all, I was going to meet with my love, Irochka, and this, you see, facilitates the burden.

After lunch, I packed up, got dressed, and went to school. The road between the school and the house passed through the private sector and I went to school under the friendly "Kukareku!" Roosters. Now was the day and the roosters were silent. But at the corner of the street was built a house. When I passed by, the builders had already erected a slate roof. I stopped and unwittingly admired this building.

And suddenly, from somewhere above, a small box of slate nails flew at me. I barely managed to dodge. The box flew past and flopped down on the ground next to me, the nails flew in all directions. From the side of the house, a terrible mate was heard and a man was crying down. I hurriedly put the nails in the box and handed it to him. He took it, said: “Thank you!” And climbed up to get the code. I went on. And then he suddenly noticed something brilliant in the grass. I stooped to look. It turned out to be slate nails. They flew quite far away and therefore I could not notice them. I bent down and picked them up mechanically and put them in my pocket. I did not know why I need it, it just happened instantly and quickly, I did not even have time to figure it out. But one thing was clear: I had in my pocket a pair of brand new slate studs, long, with shiny hats.

I got to the door of the school, climbed to the top floor. There, near the foreign office, I was already waiting for Irina. We said hello and went to class.

This time the German taught her about another difficult topic, I don’t even remember which one.

A few minutes later, Dmitriy Vladimirovich looked at me in a strange way and said: "Sergei, you can go home, you know this subject well, I will deal with it myself."

Naturally, I was delighted and sad. I was delighted, because I don’t have to sit extra two hours at school, but I was upset because I couldn’t manage to sit with Irina at the same desk today.

I went down to the first floor, went to the school cafe, soaked my throat with some kind of filth, proudly called apple compote, and sent my feet home.

Already leaving the school gates, I suddenly stopped and slapped my forehead. Bungler! How could I forget my faithful assistant - German dictionary ?! I ran back to school.

Already accustomed to running up the steep stairs to the third floor, with a quick step, stomped toward the German office, opened the door and was dumbfounded.

My heart bleeds ...