Somewhere in the expanses of the former USSR, the severe nineties, winter, vocational schools.

A third year student with a pogonyal Belyash caught up with his laughing classmate Lera at the locker room, grabbed his waist and dragged him back:

- Come on, bitch, don't rock the hook ... right now, I’ll tell everyone what a rat you are ...

Lera, still laughing loudly, clung to the locker room lattice:

- Sentry! Raped!

Her piercingly sonorous voice rang along the empty corridor of the school.

- Let's go, - Belyash hissed, tearing Lera's hands off the grill, - I'll call the Schön Seeds, you'll know how to rat!

Lera was tall, ugly and skinny, and Belyash was small, pimply and puny, so it was a struggle of almost equal opponents. Lera continued to laugh:

- Ka-ra-ul, they kill!

Her sweater ripped up, exposing her flat, bare belly:

- Ok, White, good, they were joking and that's enough, I didn’t take your marker ...

- Do not dig, muzzle rat ...

There was a heel sound on the tile behind.

- Belyakov! - rang along the corridor.

Belyash stopped.

- What's going on here? - Anna Mikhailovna quickly approached, pulled him back from Lera. - What's going on here?! I ask you, Belyakov!

Lera stood up straight, straightened the painted sweater and jeans rolling down on her bony ass:

- Belyakov again pestered me, Anna Mikhailovna.

Anna Mikhailovna sighed, took Belyakova by the shoulder:

- Gerasimenko, go to class. Belyakov, come with me ...

- Well, An Michalna ...

- Go-go! Gerasimenko, tell me not to make noise in the office. I will come to you soon.

Lera ran away.

- Come on, Belyakov. You, I see, quite insolent. Yesterday, Tikhonov bathed in a snowdrift, today Gerasimenko you carry on the floor ...

- An Michalna, I will not be more ...

- Go, go. Do not rest. Yesterday Tikhonov cried in the staff room! And, by the way, why didn't you come to me yesterday after class? Why? I told you to.

- Well, I went, Ahn Michaln, and you were not.

- Did not have? You're still lying very brazenly. Well done, Belyakov.

Anna Mikhailovna went to her office, opened the door:

- Come in, Belyakov, do not be shy.

Belyakov slowly entered.

Anna Mikhaylovna threw her keys on the table, sat down, nodded to Belyakov:

- Go here.

He slowly wandered over to the table and stood opposite.

Anna Mikhaylovna took off her glasses, rubbed the bridge of her nose, sighed, and looked at him wearily:

- What should I do with you, Belyakov?

- I will not, Anna Mikhailovna, honestly ...

- Yes, these honest words are yours, how many times I have already heard them ... - grinning, she got up, walked over to the window, and chilly led her plump shoulders. - What did you do yesterday with Tikhonova?

Belyakov hesitated:

- Well, I ... I am ...

- What's easy? Just offended the girl? So simple - took and offended!

- Yes, I did not want ... we just played snowballs, and she hit me in the face ...

“And for that, you had to put snow on her neck and boots?”

- Well ... it happened ...

“Is that why you pulled her skirt up?”

- Yes, I did not bully ... just ...

Anna Mikhailovna approached him:

- Bullied, Belyakov, still like a bully. But why? What for?

- I do not know...

- But the goal, what was the goal? Did you want to see what was under it?

- Well no...

- Well, why did you bully?

- I do not know...

- Just wanted to see what's under the skirt? Well honestly! BUT?!

- Yes...

Anna Mikhaylovna laughed:

- What are you stupid ... What's under your pants?

- Well, cowards ...

- The girls - also cowards. Tights, and then cowards. Do not you know that girls also wear underwear under pantyhose or jeans?

- I know ... I knew ...

- You're lying, Belyakov, you're lying! - she leaned toward him. - Is it really so hard to tell the truth? You are not interested in cowards and not a skirt! And the fact that under the shorts!

Belyakov lowered his head even lower.

Anna Mikhailovna slightly shook him by the shoulders:

- That's what it means, you are really interested!

- No ... no ... - muttered Belyakov.

“And this is not a shame, this is not, Belyakov.” This is just, naturally ... It's a shame that you can't tell me the truth! That's what a shame! After all, Seryozha to call you?

- Yes.

“I hope you aren't lying here, brazen liar and liar!”

- Yes, I can not lie ...can...

- No you can not!

- Can...

“Then tell me yourself.”

Anna Mikhaylovna sat down at the table, propped up her chin with her hand.

Belyakov sniffed, scratched his cheek:

- Well, I...

- Without well!

- Well ... I was interested in ... what was there under the tights ... under the skirts ... under the shorts ... in the girls ... just so interested ...

Anna Mikhailovna shook her head knowingly.

- How old are you, Belyakov?

- Eighteen.

- Eighteen ... Adult is already a man. Do you have a sister?

- Not.

- A girlfriend?

- Not.

- And not kissing girls?

- Not.

Anna Mikhaylovna turned a pen in her hands:

- No ... Listen! And last week you fought with Tanya Dudnik! You also wanted to see what was under her underwear ?!

- No, no ... it's me ... it was a completely different thing ...

- Well, look into my eyes. Now at least do not lie.

Belyakov lowered his head again.

- You're lying. Again. After all, I also wanted to see. True? BUT?

He nodded.

Anna Mikhaylovna smiled:

- Belyakov, just do not think that I am laughing at you, mocking me, or going to punish you for this. It is a completely different matter. You are eighteen years old. The most curious age. I want to know everything, to see everything. I remember, I, too, was once eighteen years old. Or do you think that a head teacher was born a head teacher? Was, was a girl. But I had a brother, Dmitry. Yes, and now there is. Older brother. And when it came time, he showed me everything. What is the difference between a boy and a girl? And I showed him everything. Here it is. So simple. And no one needed the skirt to bully. And grew up normal people. He is a civil aviation pilot, I am a head teacher at a vocational school, both are family, with children, and he is already with a grandson. Like this.

Belyakov looked at her frowningly.

Anna Mikhailovna continued to smile:

- As you can see, everything is very simple. Really simple?

- Well, yes ... sort of ...

- Well, do you have any relative of your age?

- Not. I have my own brother ... younger ... and two cousins ​​... but no sisters ...

- Well, do you have a friend, a real friend? A friend in the best sense, a real friend? Who can you entrust all the most intimate?

- No ... Ludka ... no ...

Anna Mihailovna put her pencil aside, scratched her temple:

“You are a pitiful generation.” Neither sisters, nor girlfriends ... Then they make stupid things ...

After a moment of silence, she got up, walked to the door, locked it with two turns of the key. Then, quickly passing by Belyakov, I closed the curtains on the window:

- Remember, Belyakov, cut yourself on your nose: never try to find out something dishonestly. This knowledge will only ruin you. Go here.

Belyakov turned to her.

She walked away from the window, lifted her brown skirt and, holding her chin, began to lower the pantyhose through which red panties shone through.

Belyakov put his head in his shoulders and backed away.

Anna Mikhailovna pulled off her pantyhose, put both palms in her panties, and helping her back, lowered them to her knees.

Belyakov turned away.

- Stop! Stop it, you fool! - holding her skirt, she grabbed his hand, turned to her. - Do not dare to turn away! For you, I try, noodle! Look

She spread her full knees, pulled Belyakov's hand:

- Look! To speak! Belyakov!

Belyakov looked and turned away again.

- Look! Look Look

She moved toward him, legs splayed.

Belyakov's lips twisted, he whimpered.

- Look! You wanted to see! Here ... here ... look ...

She raised her skirt higher.

Belyakov cried, buried his face in his sleeve.

- Well, what are you crying ...