Daylight has already managed to dive beyond the horizon by the time my friends and I finally reached our final destination. The bus station of the Black Sea Evpatoria greeted us with a measured flow of holidaymakers moving along parallel but diametrically opposed courses. Alone, burnt and sunburnt, reluctantly lingered on their buses. The second, tired of the long journey, but not losing their enthusiasm for resort accomplishments, hurried with bags, hubs and suitcases to private cab drivers abundant in the parking lot.

Our miniature delegation, in this respect, is very lucky. The owner, in advance of a reserved, two-room apartment, was kindly offered a gratis meeting at the bus station by personal transport. He threw our simple junk into the trunk, distributed us around the cabin, and in a matter of minutes he hauled us to the place of the future dislocation. What is there that Evpatoria, as they say, in fact. After paying an advance, and hurriedly abandoning the luggage, our trio immediately rushed to the sea.

Let me explain, by the way, of whom this "trinity" consisted. By itself, from me, this time. My best friend Kostik is two. And his girlfriends, Anyuta, are three. Two freshmen and seventeen tenth grader. A green-minded company of almost teenagers, in general. Already not children, but also not quite adult people.

That is why it is not surprising that the reckless trio of young guys made real noisy games on the concrete embankment. The wonderful July sea in the evening hour readily gave off the heat accumulated during the day. It was extremely calm, and kept complete calmness on the surface.

After a while, having drowned to be stupefied, and having enough of our first impressions of water recreation, we returned to our removable abode. This time, modestly, measuredly and slowly. Far from luxurious, it should be noted abode. Poorly furnished, but still sufficiently cozy, and having elementary advantages.

The first advantage was the location near the sea, five minutes walk from the busy embankment. The second advantage was the equipment, essential for relaxing on the sea, a shower with hot water. To the third privilege belonged, prudently equipped, a separate exit immediately to the street. He allowed to pass the general entrance, without causing unnecessary trouble to the neighbors (couples with children, mostly), preferring a peaceful sleep at night.

Of the minuses, I note the Soviet, terribly raspy sofa, inherited my possession. It is difficult to imagine even approximately its richest history. What and who only he did not see in his lifetime! Creaked, scoundrel, at the slightest provocation, promising to be the greatest inconvenience during our holiday visit. Even the ancient Minsk fridge, which, when turned on, howled like a heavy WWII bomber, was not able to compete fully with my temporary bed.

Kostya with Anya, on the rights of a couple in love, occupied a wide, double bed in that room, which was loudly called the bedroom. Why loud?

All because the rooms were obscenely small, and this “tradrodrom” occupied almost the entire free space of the room. We have broken a lot of head over how we managed to drag him inside. Kostya jokingly suggested that the house was built around an already established bed.

In addition, there was another flaw in the architecture of our "apartments". My “living room”, with the above-mentioned sofa, was “pass-through / through-passage”, like a vestibule of a railroad car. Yes, and devoid, completely, of the interior door, in order to save space.The owner, rather stingy about the elements of decor, even shed his old curtains.

But all this seemed then nothing more than petty, far from fatal inconveniences. After all, we came to the sea for active rest, and not to relax at night. So on the problem with my sofa, we together scored. And about the lack of doors between the bedroom and the living room, it was agreed that when the guys desired "privacy" - I would go for a walk to the sea, accompanied by a bottle of beer and a pack of cigarettes. On that and decided.

Having laid out things, and having taken a shower after the first immersion into the sea depths, it was decided to go to one of the many cafes on the embankment in order to dine tightly, and to drink strong drinks. Arrival and successful accommodation had to be noted.

Dressed, marafet inspired and walking paced for the evening exercise.

Having fun chatting and fooling around, we went through the whole lively embankment, crowded with resting people, and all sorts of attractions. In search of a suitable “parking” place, they still could not find a cafe to which all three hearts would lie. As a result, they were convinced on their own experience of the truth of the well-known thesis that: “the first decision is the most correct one”. We decided to stay in a cafe, which was examined first. It was at the beginning of our journey, almost at the very house. To get into it, it was necessary to return back across the embankment.

Along the way, Anuta and Kostya focused on each other, devoting more than one minute to the stops for passionate kisses. Of course, it was impossible not to understand them. Young guys, hormones with might and main trumpeted a crazy symphony called “Freedom of the Summer Night”. In order not to embarrass friends, and not to distract from the entertaining process, I left them to be pledged in the shade of trees at the edge of the sidewalk, disguised as buying a can of beer.

Having made the planned purchase, I headed for the parapet. I wanted to sit down and admire the moonlight, flickering on the surface of dark water.

Not immediately drew attention to some attractive person to my right, pressed her legs under herself, and doing the same thing. He boldly and cheekily turned to her, and critically examined.

The lady was lovely as good. Brunette. Short cut. Facial features were visible only in profile, but differed expressiveness. Dressed with taste. In white skinny pants, so fashionable and popular, in the period I described. In the turquoise top, almost covering the amazing tummy. From the evening cool beauty was saved by a light jacket, to match the pants. What was shod, consider from the place of my review failed. Yes, it did not matter, by and large.

Having never been so shy about dating women, I never changed my habits this time. With a confident gait he went to a charming stranger, realizing along the way that before me was not a young girl of the same age, but a young woman of about twenty-five — six. Despite the high probability that she is unlikely to pay attention to an eighteen-year-old boy, I still turned to her with an idiotic, feigned bombast:

- Good evening, madame, to be bored if you please?

She looked round sharply, narrowed her eyes slightly, looking at me, smiled gently, only with her lips. Slammed with big, gray-green eyes and somehow doomed, or something, replied:

- Yes, yes. There is some.

I did not quite like the subtext of her smile. She smiled excessively too kindly, motherly even somehow. Yes, and I did not catch the flirtatious glance, although I noticed that she had only managed to inspect me. To my regret, it was only a cursory inspection of a casual interlocutor, nothing more. But the retreat was not part of my plans, and therefore I suggested to be bored together. She indifferently shook her shoulders and replied that there was a lot of space on the parapet, and she had not bought it.

After that, the young lady again turned her attention to the night light frolicking in the sleeping waters of the Black Sea. Somewhat disappointed, I settled down next to her and offered her a drink of beer.She looked at me again. She smiled again, bit her lower, slightly dried sponge and asked:

- From one jar?

- Yes, and what's wrong with that?

- Bad nothing. It is just unusual to drink from unknown dishes with unfamiliar boys.

The word "boys" was uttered with a special ...