Chapter 5
“He seems like a nice guy to me, Dasha. Maybe he likes you?”
My new friend’s eyes widened knowingly.
“That’s what it looks like, trust me! How could a normal primate like someone who’s been beating him up since fifth grade?”
It sounded funny, and we laughed quietly. The school was big and comfortable, and the crowded cafeteria buzzed with life. I didn’t immediately notice the three older students who appeared in the doorway. Sharp-eyed Dasha immediately jabbed me in the side with her elbow.
“Look, Nastia! Here come the deer from eleventh grade! The ‘Popular Ungulate’ type!” She put the phrase in quotation marks with her fingers. “Too bad they’re antlerless, but everything’s relative. If you ask me, these specimens are even worse than the primates. At least you can communicate with those guys in sign language if you have to. These three aren’t much different from their closest relatives, either. They like going head-to-head to prove who’s stronger, and playing sidekick to the peacock.”
I turned around and studied the older boys with curiosity. They really did carry themselves with exaggerated confidence. Laughing and making a racket, they entered the cafeteria and took the central table by the wall, tossing some object from hand to hand. When I spotted a familiar face among them, I asked my friend about the boy.
“That’s Seryoga Voropaev, our Marina’s older brother. Just as snobby as his little sister. Not quite as picky, though—he’s not a girl, after all. Last month he was dating his classmate Nadya Kovaleva and Dinka Gubenko from our class at the same time. When those two idiots found out about each other, they got into a real fight over him, right by the teachers’ lounge. Good thing Petka and I managed to pull them apart, or they definitely would’ve been expelled! Zbruev told me afterward, in confidence, that jerk Voropaev had staged the whole circus on purpose so he could break up with both of them at once. I told you: deer!”
The boy was blond, tall, and handsome, and he didn’t look like a jerk at all. While his sister pretended not to know me when she saw me, her brother raised his eyebrows in surprise at the sight of a familiar face and waved hello.
“Hey, Matveyeva,” I heard Dasha’s stern voice by my ear. “Don’t even think about falling for him! There are already plenty of girls lining up! Someone as tiny as you would get flattened against a wall and nobody would even notice! You’d be better off with nerdy Borya Bragin. Boring, but reliable. Are you listening to me? By the way, he hasn’t taken his eyes off you for three periods now. I see everything.”
Falling in love definitely wasn’t part of my plans, especially not with a popular boy. I still knew nothing about love, schemes, or male treachery—except what I’d read in books—and all I wanted right then was to avoid an unnecessary conversation, remembering Stas’s warning.
Why had I expected Sergey Voropaev to behave like his sister? Why had I even looked his way? But no—he pushed aside the empty chair beside him and seemed about to stand up and come over to me…
“Nastia, wait! Where are you going? What about your tea?” Kuznetsova caught me by the arm, but it was too late—I was already on my feet, yanking my bag up with me.
“Sorry, Dasha. I just remembered I didn’t call my dad. I’ll meet you outside the classroom…”
“Which one?” her bewildered voice came from behind me. “You don’t know anything around here!”
I didn’t know whether that was true, but if I wanted to find out, I had to run. Better that they both thought I was some strange oddball.
I even managed to put my tray and plate on the rack by the sink and make it back to the aisle between the tables. All I had to do was run past the boys, who were still laughing loudly and tossing that mysterious object among themselves. Just pretend I didn’t see the older student stride toward me in surprise, his raised hand reaching out to stop me…
“Hey, you—stop!”
I wasn’t a complete scatterbrain, and I would have gotten away for sure if something hadn’t landed under my feet—dropped on the floor by one of the boys, accidentally or on purpose. I tripped over it, threw out my arms, and fell, landing on my shaking knees. My cheeks burned with shame, and the skin scraped raw on my palms stung against the rough tile.
The thing responsible for my fall turned out to be a girl’s bra—far too pretty and expensive for a schoolgirl. Though I didn’t know much about such things back then. In any case, I certainly didn’t own anything like it. I stayed on my knees, staring at it—a black, lacy bra with thickly padded cups—because I couldn’t bring myself to look up, knowing who was towering over me—the person I’d nearly crashed into.
Yes, the entire cafeteria froze, waiting, while I knelt in front of my stepbrother and wished the floor would swallow me whole, and he made no move to help me up. His blond friend didn’t either.
My bag was lying on my stepbrother’s fashionable boot, and I quietly tugged it toward me.
“What a picture—an oil painting. Poor little Nastia and her rightful prize…”
“Shut your mouth, Seryoga,” Stas cut him off. “And keep it shut for a good long while. I’m not joking.”
“Got it,” the boy said, not offended. “Then at least give Lenka her bra back, Frol, if you’re not going to explain yourself here. You won.”
Dasha lifted me to my feet, of course. Petka Zbruev helped, too. No wonder he’d seemed like a nice guy right away. I almost ran out of the cafeteria, but I held back my tears. Thank God I hadn’t burst into tears in front of everyone—in front of blond Marina and her friends, who watched me go with laughter in their eyes.
“What a peacock! He’s blocking the aisle so nobody can get past him! I can’t stand that Frolov! And his deer buddies are no better! Of all places, you had to fall there, Nastia!”
My friend and I stood in an inconspicuous alcove at the end of the main hallway, beside a sign with an emergency-exit diagram, and I couldn’t pull my hands away from my face. Zbruev hovered just around the corner with our bags, and Kuznetsova sternly ordered the boy to take them straight to class.
“Go on, Zbruev! Grab the bags and head straight to English! Don’t stand around here eavesdropping on our girl talk! How are you, Matveyeva? Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself? Maybe I should take you to the nurse’s office?”
I shook my head, feeling her warm hand on my shoulder.
“No, Dasha. I’m really fine. But oh my God, how embarrassing! My first day at a new school, and I had to fall like that!”
“Come on, Nastia,” the girl said indignantly. “That’s what you’re upset about? So what? It could happen to anyone! If you ask me, they’re the ones who should be embarrassed—not you! The ones who laughed! There’s something worse.”
“What?” Finally, I took my hands from my cheeks and looked fearfully at the girl thoughtfully twisting the blue streak at her temple. Her lips were pressed into a sad line.