Chapter 5

Marinka and I enter the apartment and take off our coats, leaving our things on one of the sofas because the closet in the entryway is packed with clothes to bursting. And of course we look around with our mouths open.

The overhead lights are off in the apartment, and ultra-modern side lights and the bar are glowing. Someone really lucked out. The apartment is simply gorgeous.

"Wow, this place has to be three hundred square meters!" Marinka marvels, smoothing the long-sleeved cocktail dress that beautifully emphasizes her figure. She looks around curiously. "Where do we go now?"

"Ladies, the main dancing is on the enclosed balcony!" some guy says, as if he has heard our thoughts, wrapping an arm around each of our waists. "Don't worry about getting cold. It's hot in there! And I'm Edik!" he introduces himself, but there's no holding Tsvetkova back now.

"Come on, Alis! Denis will definitely be there!"

I don't know who this guy who came up to us is, but if he is the host, it would be good to say hello. So before Marinka drags me after her, I give him a friendly wave.

"Hi!"

***

The party is in full swing. There are lots of young people around, but we only understand the scale of the event once we reach the observation balcony, where music is thundering and people are already dancing hard: at least fifty of them, no fewer.

Finding ourselves in a penthouse for the first time, Marinka and I make our way between couples and clusters of dancers, and both of us lift our heads when we see the pitched glass roof above us and the light snow falling onto it.

"Wow!" I can't help admiring what I see. "I can imagine what the view of the city is like from here when the light beams aren't in the way."

"Beautiful!" Marinka agrees. "I wonder whose place this is. Our rector's son? I wouldn't be surprised."

Beams flash above us, one rhythmic track replaces another, and for a while we dance with everyone else as our eyes adjust to the surroundings and Tsvetkova turns her head from side to side, trying to find the unknown Denis.

"Oh, there he is!" my friend suddenly digs into my arm, going taut as a string. "Aliska, I see him!" She gestures with her chin toward the far wall, where two guys are standing. "What do I do now? Go up to him? Or wait until he comes over himself?" she asks. "Oh, what if he doesn't find me? It would be stupid to just dance and leave!"

I can see my friend is seriously flustered, and I stop with her.

"Marin, I think it's better to go up, since he invited you. We won't be able to stay here until night, so don't waste time."

"You're right. Let's go!"

The guys are standing by the drinks table, and I'm seeing the one Tsvetkova points to in a whisper for the first time, but I understand that he is older than us. Maybe not by much, yet it's hard to be mistaken: the confidence in both guys can be felt even from a distance.

This Denis is wearing a dark printed T-shirt and jeans. His temples and the back of his head are shaved, and the long hair on top is tied into a "samurai bun." The moment I notice it, I immediately guess how he managed to win over Marinka, who became obsessed with Japanese culture at ten.

A tattoo with an obvious Eastern motif covers the guy's left arm all the way to his fingers, and his neck too, and I think it's better not to get involved with someone like that. But I don't have time to tell Marinka because we have already walked up, and I hear her loud, friendly greeting. Shouting over the music is no easy task.

"Denis, hi! I'm Marina, remember? You invited me yesterday. Well, here I am! And this is my best friend, Alice!" Marinka chatters excitedly, flutters her eyelashes coquettishly, and smiles modestly like a good girl should. "It's awesome here!"

Well, the introduction has begun, and I wait for the guy to turn, see Tsvetkova, and be happy. For him to turn out not at all like the unfamiliar girls described him. But everything goes exactly the opposite way. My mouth even falls open in surprise when he turns, looks the girl over, and says with a completely straight face:

"I invited you? What Marina? Dream on, sweetheart. I don't remember anyone's names, and I'm seeing you for the first time. Go on, get lost. We're having a men's conversation."

Marinka's jaw drops too, and I can intuitively feel my friend going pale with confused shame. A moment later, though, she pulls herself together and presses her lips tight.

In her case, the guy miscalculated. Tsvetkova isn't someone you want to piss off.

"What did you say?" she asks slowly, as if she doesn't want to believe the guy she has been dreaming about for the past few days has turned out to be such an asshole. "You're seeing me for the first time, you amnesiac?!"

"Something like that."

"You called me yourself... You came by and distracted me from work... Say 'get lost' one more time, and I will refresh your memory with this!"

Angry Marinka grabs some drink from the table, generously dumping ice into it, and raises the glass in her hand with promise, threatening to pour the contents over the guy.

But he suddenly laughs, surprising us again. Shoving his friend in the shoulder, he nods at Tsvetkova.

"And there they are: the teeth! I knew this baby had them! This time you lost, Andryukha!"

"Meaning... this time?" Marinka frowns.

"I told you, Shibuev," Denis continues, "that it was better not to piss off this green-eyed cat. And you kept saying she was a goody-goody! I bet if she had free rein, she would gladly scratch my face right now. All the way down to my groin!"

The guys laugh, and my friend exhales in shock:

"I don't understand. Were you betting on me?"

"A little," the second stranger answers. He looks tall, lean, and arrogant. "Nothing serious, so don't pout, girls. It's a holiday and all that... And besides, take all questions to Den. He's the one who fell for you, and I lost, so... Give me that." Reaching out, he easily takes the glass from Marinka. "There's a shitload of vodka in here. Too early for you to drink that!"

But Marinka really is shocked and angry. She's practically hissing. I take her hand in mine and squeeze it tightly while she spits angrily:

"Idiot! Both of you!"

"Well, if you get to know me better..." Denis keeps smiling, "there's a chance your opinion of me will change."

"Go to hell! You and your chance! And you'd better not come to the restaurant either. I always have a tray in my hand there, and I can hit you with it! Alice, let's go!"

"Catch them, Andryukha!"

I feel an arm wrap around my waist, making me stay where I am.

"Let go!" I smack the stranger's fingers, but the damage rolls off him like water off a duck's back.

The same thing happens to Tsvetkova.

"Easy, girls! No one is going to hurt you," the guy holding me begins winningly. "We made a joke, and that's enough! I'm Andrey, and that type is Denis. We have a refined sense of humor at the level of cretinism, but the diagnosis isn't final, so there's hope for recovery. We don't bite. Don't run away."

"Marin, sorry, the joke came out badly," Denis says, pulling the girl against him. "I really am glad you came. And your friend is pretty. Tell her not to be mad!"

He holds his hand out to me and looks at me questioningly. Interestingly, Marinka does too.