I think about fate, we have never spoken or even left alone. But after all, I may not be the first beauty in the class, but certainly not a scarecrow. By all means, pretending that his ostentatious indifference does not hurt me at all, I behaved as usual during the day, and at night I lay awake for a long time, roaring in the pillow, and trying not to think that now Oleg might be hugging another girl, which tomorrow, hiding traces of hickeys, will be a happy voice in secret to share sweet memories.

It didn’t add to me calmness and the fact that a few more hijackings of expensive cars with the latest alarm system occurred, and all of this was done by the parents of our students. Somewhere on the outskirts of the city, a bright gasoline flame flashed a hangar in which our burnt-out equipment for disassembling cars burned power after putting out the fire. City news was filled with gang war messages, and reporters with eyes glittering with excitement broadly broadcast a series of bloody clashes. Every day, entering the class, I was relieved to find with my eyes a dark-haired figure leaning over the abstracts: at that moment I was ready to forgive all the insults that were real and imaginary just because he was intact, and even without knowing about my fears sitting in the next row .

And only sometimes it seemed to me, probably from nerves, that I caught on him his attentive, bone-piercing look, from which the threat disappeared at such moments, and there was only warmth that made my cheeks blush and my breath quickened. But as soon as I tried to catch Oleg's glance, all my dreams immediately fell apart in ghostly fragments: almost always the guy at that time looked in a completely different direction.

I don’t know, and I don’t even dare to suggest where it would take me further, but one day, Oleg simply did not come to classes. For the entire first couple I, only for the appearance of leading a pen in the outline, hypnotized my eyes to an empty space, as if hoping that I would blink now and he would be there. The second couple also went through, but now I didn’t even try to pretend to be a diligent student. Instead of the third couple, I went to the office of our curator and, amazed at my own arrogance, stated that since Oleg Zvyagintsev was ill, by the advice of the students I delegated to give him a list of topics for study and a collective wish for a speedy recovery. So I need his address.

Oleg was registered in the emergency "Khrushchev" on the very outskirts of the city, from which some kind people also snitched a sign with the address, due to which I reached the entrance I needed only in approaching twilight. Then - a long sting on the bell, listening to a guy trilling from the apartment, stubbornly not wanting to believe that there is no one behind the door. Once again I went out into a half-delirious with fatigue and anxiety. Is it possible to say that then I lost my way? Hardly: they say that about a person who has gone astray, but from the very beginning I didn’t know where and why I walk along these broken streets surrounded by industrial buildings and old ruins.

- Oppa, girl, and there is no smoke? Not? Then come on, come here, we'll give you a smoke. And we'll give something else, so that the mouth is not empty, - the company that grew up around me as if from under the ground pulled me out of my reverie. I looked at four men, who smiled broadly at me with smoked smiles without fear, still not understanding how badly they got. In my cozy little world there were none. But then one of the men reached out and grabbed my collar.

- What are you staring at, Shmara, let's go, blah, you will work on the passage fee! Or you ... - he did not have time to finish. The black shadow behind my back suddenly thickened, came to life, turning into a rapidly approaching figure, and the man holding me flew straight at his buddies. The shadow that attacked him stepped forward, and, as if performing some wild dance, slammed the elbow of the hand into the throat of the second.Without stopping, she grabbed the hand of the third one, who had time to pull out the knife, and redirected the blade hit right to the incoming fourth. Someone screamed desperately, and the attacker had already twisted the brush of a man who had not fired a weapon: the ringing of a steel dropped sank in a soft crunch, as if someone had broken a bunch of thin rails, as well as in the next shout. Instant - and the shadow is already next to me. Before I can scream in horror, strong hands hold my mouth.

- Quiet! - Oleg's voice. With relief, my legs give way, and the guy has to catch me, not letting me fall to the ground.

- Quickly, we shake from here! - I am being dragged somewhere, every second, miraculously holding me back from the rapid flight of my nose into the asphalt. I come to myself in the doorway, abandoned for ages (or just half an hour) ago. Oleg, clutching the keys, unlocks the locks and promptly, almost roughly, drags me inside. There, he finally takes off the hood covering his face and turns to me. On his face is a mask of cold rage that scares me much more than the greasy hints of the recent failed rapists. It seems that for a minute he struggles with the desire to strangle me on the spot, and finally, he calms down enough to hiss:

- You, what, silly woman, are you doing here ?! Adventures on your second ninety looking for, blah? Yes, like you here have to appear on the armored car with a guard! With you, goat, there can do this - simple rape for affection will come down! You...

He turns away and imprints his fist into the wall. It seems the whole house shudders, a little more - and plaster will fall from the ceiling. Still standing with his back to me, the guy again begins to argue, but without rage, but with some persistent fear:

“Do you have any idea what I would come back an hour later?” Or do not tell me the neighbors that some strange girl called me for a half an hour. Or, if I, when I was looking for you, I turned in the wrong place ...

Oleg runs his hands over his head, ruffling his black short hair, and I notice that his hands are shaking.

- You're just crazy that you came here. And anyway, what the hell are you here ...

I step forward and cling to him from behind with my whole body. And when the guy, silenced by surprise, turns around, I dig into his lips. Our kiss lasts for ages. I feel his tongue run in my mouth, intertwining with mine. I feel how the flames inflame in me, forcing all of today's fears to crumble into ashes of weightless. I feel his hands tightening their grip on me. For ages, everything is as it should be ... So far everything is cut short by the sound of an alarming siren coming from the street. Somewhere in the darkness, the doctors and the police rush to the crippled, and maybe even the dead gop-stopchikam.

A sharp sound like a hammer blow splits the dome of peace enclosing us, forcing us to return to the harsh reality.

- You ... what are you doing? Abnormal! - strong hands open my arms and push away, squeezing into the wall.

Probably need to be scared, but for some reason I do not care. I close my eyes and, feeling the first tears slide down my cheeks, leaning against the wall. Waiting ... what? Ridicule? Or vice versa: the touch of greedy hands, the cod of tearing clothes, and - all that, what I was asking for when I came here? I dont know! Probably, it will be even better: to go through pain, humiliation, but in the end get out of this vicious circle. Hate him, start to be afraid so that when he sees in a dream - wake up with a cry. Anything will be better than falling in love with it ... with this ... but damn it! Unable to hold back any longer, I begin to sob.

A second by second passes, a strange silence reigns in the hall of an old building, and only my quiet cry is reflected from the bare brick walls, like a whisper of a ghost. Finally, a heavy sigh, a kind of rustling, is heard next to me, and something gently touches my face gently. Surprisingly, I twitch, open my eyes, and disbelieve I observe a strange, impossible picture: Oleg wipes my tears with a clean handkerchief, sweeping my cheeks with simply hypnotizing tenderness.

“Quiet, quiet, calm down,” the guy says softly, almost whispering, “Don't cry, okay?” And, in general, everything will be ... Read more →