“The service is for the service,” he said with an air of importance.

- So-so, - Katyna's eyes lit up with excitement, her lips formed a bow. - And what do you want in return?

- Nothing, in fact, - Victor rejected a silly smile. - Denis Nechayev has a birthday on Wednesday. He invites you.

“Well, it's his birthday, not you.” I have something to do with it? - Kate hatched eyes with feigned surprise, slapping her eyelashes, ready to laugh at any moment.

- Well, he wants to invite you too, so that you don’t miss home alone.

- So, and I do not miss. Why did he decide that I miss?

- Oh well. I’ll say another way: we will have three girls and four guys. Need another girl to keep the balance. Do you understand? - Vitya has already straightened up and, taking a step back, stood, folding his arms over his chest, making Katya an official offer, which is a sin to refuse.

- So, and girls are girls of those guys who will come?

- No, just learning together. No one is dating, - Victor paused. “For now,” he added, theatrically raising an eyebrow.

Katya chuckled.

- So you would find yourself another girl.

“Dyon wants to invite you because he likes you,” Vitya raised his eyebrow again, grinning cunningly.

“And he told me — no,” Katya snapped, and with feigned anger she threw a strand of hair back onto her back. She smiled at the corner of her lips, intuitively making her way through the wilds of the game that her brother had started.

“Then I’ll say to him:“ You, Dyona, are a fat chipmunk. ” Until you lose weight, Katya won't go to your birthday party. ”

Katya laughed, her eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Don't, don't say that,” she said. - And then still offended.

- Then everything is swept? - Vitya again took the pretensely boorish look, backing towards the door. - On Wednesday at six, we are moving towards the cinema, then billiards, then - as it will.

- Yeah, I'll think about it, - Katya smiled, returning to the collection.

Going to the cinema, unwinding after a stressful exam, even in the company of unfamiliar children who were two years older than her, seemed like a good idea. Even taking into account the fact that the birthday man himself, Denis Nechaev, will go out of his way to make her laugh.

Katya giggled, remembering the awkward attempts of the chubby lad to roll up to her.

Denis was short, with a fair-haired, densely folded, with small close-set pork eyes, an eternal silly smile on a round, fat-faced face.

Katya recalled how he had ground all sorts of nonsense, just to attract attention to himself.

“It's something with something!” She snorted again at the cam, stretching the sleeve of her sweater.

Denis Nechaev has long glanced in the direction of Katya, hesitating to even ask for a name.

- Do you like Katya? - Vitya chuckled at a friend.

- Does she have a boyfriend? - smiled Dyon, biting lips.

- Of course have.

They stood on the bus, followed the beautiful sister, who was prancing in a skirt, stockings, shoes with a heel in the direction of the subway. I did it with such an important look, as if the whole world revolves around her alone.

“She's awesome,” Denis sighed. - Already decided where to go?

- Yeah, international relations.

Denya snorted, Victor laughed.

At one time, Nechaev did not enter the linguistic university and followed in his father’s footsteps. Dad, a police major who served in one of the numerous state security institutions, attached an offspring to the Academy of the Ministry of Internal Affairs.

Deny spoke quickly, spitting out whole phrases and even jokes with a machine gun, did it so indistinctly as if he was chewing potatoes. I had to often miss his remarks, laugh at him at random and purely out of politeness, not fully appreciating the meaning of what was said.

After serving a year for distribution in the army, Den tried to enroll in the riot police. There, of course, did not take it. Growth did not come out, plus insufficient physical training.Well, tell me, does such a fatty pull up with a saggy belly and ass at least ten times, not to mention lifting a coup?

But Dona liked to serve, liked to watch the parade, to root for ours at the stadium. Den was a patriot, though he was too shy to talk about it. He was shy of his fullness, slurred speech, studies for a policeman, even military service. Had a war, he would be the first to enroll as a volunteer and give his life for the Motherland.

But the war did not happen. Of all the trials, fate prepared him for the most difficult: he fell in love. Unresponsive, hopeless.

At about half past six, Vitya and Katya went to the cinema, where a group of young people were already waiting for them.

- Hey Ya! - Denis was delighted sweeping hand Vita, clapping with greedy eyes Kate, who shot her eyes in his direction.

Kate came in a spacious black skirt to the knees, stockings, white blouse, blue jacket. She looked favorably in this outfit. Heels clinked voiced overflow.

- Happy Birthday! - Vitya pulled a friend, put his arm around his shoulder.

“Meet Katia,” Nechaev threw out his hand in a businesslike manner, pointing to the guys. “This is Max, Andrei, Lena,” he said quickly.

Katya nodded, not immediately catching the names. She met with the greedy eyes of unfamiliar guys. They measured her by the eye, stopping views on her chest and bottom, did it so frankly, not hesitating to lick her lips, that she involuntarily became embarrassed, and only the feeling of girlish dignity made her become smoother, put her right leg forward, as taught in the defile courses, which she graduated in ninth grade. Still, she was a beauty, what the world had never seen, and came to the Birthday specially to please the birthday man's look.

“And not only!” She thought, raising a cheerful look at Denis Nechayev.

He fussed, busily distributing pre-purchased tickets.

The girl between high Max and a bug-eyed, pushed-down Andrew looked over the guys with a blurred look. She either missed, or she expected more from Nechaev. At least going to a restaurant. It was a slender brunette, thickly made up with black mascara, scarlet lipstick, eyebrows on an oval, non-expressive face, with long even hair, blond hair, which lay in a pullover hood in one flaxen wave, scattering curls on the back. She was wearing a beige fitted pullover, which with its lower edge tightened its rounded ass, which had been let down in the groin to the triangle with blue worn jeans. Black suede boots with heels and a red handbag on the shoulder complemented the picture of a typical fashionista who does not understand anything in fashion. Lena poked her chin in a maroon shawl, which according to the plan was to be in harmony with a lacquered scarlet handbag. Such finds did not impress Katya at all. Rather, on the contrary, she found simple clumsy solutions at least a sign of a lack of taste and certainly imagination.

“If you spend money on clothes, you can come up with something better,” thought Kate, not noticing that Lena was unwittingly grinning.

- We are only six? She asked, turning to her brother.

“It happened,” he answered, distracting himself from the conversation with Max.

Max was a tall, tall-shouldered ambal, reddish, gloomy. Andrew was also elongated, but puny, bug-eyed, with sunken cheeks.

Later, Katya learned that all three men: Denis, Max and Andrey are engaged in weightlifting in the evenings.

“Not professionally, but for myself,” said Andrei.

The guys took seats in the hall. Katya was put between birthday boy and Andrey. Lena between Victor and Max. They ate popcorn, chatted merrily, looking into cell phones. All but Katya, who was bashfully biting her lower sponge, squinting around. How she would like to have an expensive smartphone to wipe her nose at once with all these dudes! Well nothing. Univer covered himself with a copper basin. Soon she will come up with dresses for "Mill Mod" and then be able to sell them for any money. She will order expensive dresses. She will go ... Read more →