Adventure on the Ass and Meeting with Sergeant Martin

After the holidays that followed the exams, I returned to Kharkiv again. Everything would have been fine, but I was weighed down by longing for the girls. After that incident, we had clearly become close. Everything was going according to plan, but what if Dasha had found a new love during these two months? You'd think these two months after the summer session could be spent having a good time, having fun, relaxing from extraneous thoughts, including studies, but here I am, as always, engaging in soul-searching. Isn't that annoying? Does a person have nothing better to do? You might think, dear readers. And what if she has a new love and has found a replacement for me at the speed of sound?

This doubt was destroying me and plunging me into despair. But

as you know, everything turned out exactly as I had feared, what I was so afraid of happened, we got what we were fighting against. After all, everything in the world eventually ends: love, money, beauty, youth. Even the planet will disappear one day, buildings will turn into crystal shards. Whatever you name, it disappears; nothing is eternal. And don't feelings fall into this category? They absolutely are no exception! I kept asking myself this question throughout the entire holidays, even though the answer was obvious anyway. Everything would be fine, just not in our case, I thought. We have no future, it simply doesn't exist, because we are both girls. Yes, yes, but two girls can't exactly go to the altar, can they? Besides, we both want a full family in the future. Family? I mentally repeated to myself, as if I had never heard such a word.

Lost in thought, I began to ponder. And a family isn't eternal either, everything passes, only memories of past feelings remain. And it doesn't matter if it ends now or later. Besides, a family is no guarantee of eternal love. Everything passes, everything changes. As a rule, what's left are single, divorced moms with children, of which there are more than half in the world, and they are all in search of a new worthy daddy for their children, preferably with a thicker wallet. There are plenty of such cases, they're a dime a dozen. As sad as it is to admit, that's the reality, alas. I hope I haven't thrown a stone in the garden of divorced moms looking for a partner? No? Well, thank God. Look at the divorce statistics, and you'll understand I'm a realist. And now I foresee the indignation of my readers over my words. Well, go on then, so be it, throw your slippers at me, I allow it. I tried to get rid of these obsessive thoughts; they were like an anthill persistently tickling my brain, lodged in my head, destroying me.

But what is this, a habit or actually feelings for her? Attachment? Searching for an ideal? Or have I become addicted to this drug called "attachment"? Who knows? Perhaps that's exactly it. And then I pulled myself together, setting aside my guesses and reflections. Who knows, not only do I plunge myself into soul-searching, but I also drag my readers into it. Yes, yes, I am that very student girl who has already worn you out with her musings on relationships, including lesbian ones, in the previous story, and who feeds people all sorts of nonsense. I think these heart-wrenching stories and soulful outpourings have already stuck in the throats of many, and many are already bored with my tales, just ordinary highfalutin crap. Since I have a special talent for finding all sorts of adventures for my backside, that's why I'm writing this story for you.

Arriving in Kharkiv, I was really looking forward to seeing the girls. I wasn't feeling my best after the journey, hoping to catch up on sleep for an hour or two from the trip before the upcoming open day, which is usually held at our university, only this time we also had a flash mob planned. As luck would have it, I'm not feeling very well. The sounds of the train remained obsessively in my head: "Chug-chug, chug-chug... chug-chug, chug-chug," and I caught myself bitterly thinking it would have been better to leave a day earlier to have a chance to get myself together. Olka, my dorm roommate, wasn't there yet; she must be arriving later. Only now I was unlikely to fall asleep. I drank hot coffee to sober up a bit and shake off the sleep, but my eyes were treacherously closing, I was nodding off. Having sobered up a bit, I reluctantly started unpacking things from my travel bag. Approaching the mirror, I held up clothes to myself, wondering what to wear to the flash mob. Nothing ever works out; I'll have to go straight from the ship to the ball.

I immediately dismissed the turquoise dress; I have to admit, in it I'd look like a pale toadstool, and with such sleep-deprived eyes to boot. I also rejected the lilac dress for some reason; that color only emphasized the slight dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep on the road. I mentally flared up with anger: "Damn it all" — and let out a deep sigh. My unruly platinum hair was, as luck would have it, tousled, with small curls snaking around the edges, which drove me crazy every time I noticed them. But time was short; it was too late to use a flat iron, and it takes too long for thick hair. After tousling my hair in different directions, it fluffed up and lay more naturally in a chaotic way. I lightly sprayed it with hairspray, after which it settled a bit. No, I'll probably go in casual clothes, in red jeans and a white T-shirt. I powdered my nose, did light makeup. Looks okay, right? I considered. Exactly, better like this, in casual clothes, it's fine. Since time was short, I decided to skip the formal assembly for the meeting with the rector; I'd only just make it to the flash mob.

Music was coming from the courtyard of our university, a crowd of people were milling about on the territory of the main building, and joyful shouts from the crowd were already coming from the street—the dance flash mob was in full swing. From a distance, multicolored ribbons flashed, now orange, now green, now bluish, sharply changing to different shades during the movements. Only with such long preparations, I barely made it even to that. I'm lying, I was 15 minutes late, so I couldn't spot my classmates in such a huge crowd. I had to stand wherever I could and join the dance. The dance movements, right, left, soon seemed monotonous to me: back, forth, left, right, and rhythmically raising the ribbons up to the beat of the music. Every time, I tried to find my people with my gaze. During the movements, I gradually squeezed closer to mine. I could already spot some with the naked eye, others I saw from the back. Here I got closer to Marina; in response, she quickly waved her hand at me, her eyes lit up joyfully after two months apart. The rhythm of the music was getting faster, some stumbled, some chuckled lightly at their clumsiness, and students bumped into each other, giggling cheerfully. A bit further away stood Dasha. Here she turned, saw me, and rewarded me with a bland, unnatural smile.

She had clearly distanced herself from me, just as I thought, flashed through my mind. When the dance of the noisy, jubilant crowd ended and the music faded, delighted, abrupt laughter rang out. The music was replaced by the resonant chatter of students. The day was hot, the sun was burning the area fiercely, and droplets of sweat were already appearing on me from the movement. Here I glanced around the area and accidentally caught sight of something to the right: a girl with platinum hair the same length as mine, in light jeans, was holding hands with a tall, handsome young man. At first, I had doubts about who this girl was, but then I recognized Dasha in profile. She rose on her tiptoes, leaned in to kiss him, and was actively talking to the guy; judging by her joyful facial expressions, her velvety eyes were smiling. Here I was engulfed by bewilderment. Damn, can things really be like that? A dull pain pierced me through and through; my mood was clearly ruined. So what if we slept together a couple of times, especially the three of us? Another voice in my consciousness responded: it doesn't mean anything, we slept together, so what? And in two summer months, she had already calmly found herself this young man. And here, for a moment, I closed up inside myself, as if in a shell; the surrounding environment instantly disappeared, I switched to my own wavelength. Here someone addressed me:

— Hey, Elina, is something wrong? What are you thinking about? — here a chill ran down my spine, and coming out of my stupor, I responded, instantly forcing a smile:

— No, everything's fine, why did you think something was off? — I shot back at Marina.

— Let's go to our group then, look, ours are gathering over there — she headed towards the crowd.

— Why? I don't want to go anywhere. Stay with me, Marin — lowering my eyes, gathering strength, I said.

— Hmm... — my friend said, drawing out the word, scrutinizing me — What's with the mood? — she demanded an answer.

— No, nothing — I began to soften, pulled myself together, and started controlling my emotions — Nothing, everything's fine — I hesitated a bit, coming to my senses from what I had seen.

In the circle stood the girls from our fencing team, already third-year students for this academic year, while I was moving to the second year. Next to me stood our Marishka, one of my best friends, side by side stood Nastyona and Lilya, and next to me stood Dasha with her young man. Smirking crookedly, she said indifferently:

— Seems not everyone is acquainted with Andrey yet — she exchanged a glance with him — This is my boyfriend, Andrey. Now he'll be studying with us from the fourth year — she pointed at the young man.

Clearly understanding that all the girls had already met him, I realized she was introducing him specifically to me:

— Elina, Dasha's friend — I introduced myself to the stranger, forcing an artificial smile, not revealing my flaring bewilderment, which I was doing extremely poorly, and I was barely restraining myself from making some sarcastic remark to them. For some reason, I felt a sense of dislike for both of them. I myself didn't understand what had come over me; after all, we're just friends, and I had already imagined something and labeled friendly sex as love... This Andrey was indeed pleasant-looking: dark hair, almond-shaped blue eyes, regular facial features, dressed in a light green shirt and black jeans, and very sweet. For some reason, he irritated me, and why did I start turning up my nose at him and Daria? I can't answer that question myself. What a mess...

— Andryukha — some fourth-year guys whistled, calling out to him.

— Huh? — he responded — Excuse me, I need to step away — and he headed towards those guys, started exchanging handshakes with them, and was actively talking about something.

— So, what do you think of Andrey? — Daria addressed me, her eyes glowing with overflowing emotions.

— And what do you think of him yourself? — I inquired, I had to smile.

— He's sweet, sociable, fun, cool — she said, thinking, apparently wanting to add something else, but I interrupted her:

— So, you love him? — I spat out detachedly with anger; I clearly couldn't hide my indignation anymore.

— Yes — she uttered with doubt, putting on naivety.

— Is he smart, a serious guy?

— No — she shook her head negatively.

— And do you have understanding between you?

— No — truth flowed from her lips. For some reason, she didn't dare lie to me. Seeing my detached gaze, she asked with bewilderment:

— Is something wrong?

— No, it's just that before him you weren't like this, you've changed somehow — I squeezed out indifferently. I was completely consumed by anger; I could only guess what thoughts might be in her head... here I felt ashamed that I might burst into tears.

— Marish, come with me — I turned to Marina, deliberately ignoring Dasha. Let's go join the others, ours are over there — and I point at them. Recognizing my displeasure, she understood everything and followed me without a word, while Dasha headed towards her third-year girlfriends.

— What's wrong with you? — Marina exclaimed and started shaking me like a pear, but I couldn't answer her question. My eyes treacherously filled with tears and gave me away. I tried to turn away, but Marina pulled my chin towards her — Elina, what's wrong, bunny? What happened? — her eyes were directly looking into mine.

— Let's get out of here, I'm not in the mood. I'll tell you later, maybe — I said.

— But everything was fine, what could have happened?

— And you don't have a clue, no? — I said reproachfully.

— No, what is it?

— In short, I don't like all this, this whole situation, Dasha's boyfriend, her behavior like this. Did you see how indifferent she's become? She might completely distance herself from us, don't you notice? — I eagerly decided to express my concern to my friend, with impatience in my voice.

— Pfft, I don't understand you. Did you really attach such importance to this? What's wrong with you? We're friends, and how did you think it would be? She, you, and I will all find boyfriends in the future. Personally, I don't see anything wrong with that — Marina said in an even, soft voice.

— No! I don't need any boyfriends — I objected — maybe let's get out of here? By the way, are you going to Radmir tonight with our group?

— And don't you swear off it, sooner or later an interesting guy will appear in your life. Hardly, I actually wasn't planning on going today. Let's just go for a walk. Why are you taking it to heart? So she found a boyfriend, you silly little thing, don't despair — my friend hugged me and started stroking my hair, looking closely into my eyes. How lousy I felt at that moment, you can't even imagine. I wanted to send everything to hell and disappear somewhere. Most of all, I wanted to spitefully find a boyfriend and annoy Dasha, only the question is, she would be completely indifferent to it. It's like buying a ticket and then walking to spite the conductor. And then Marina and I headed off.

The evening wasn't going the best. It was already getting dark, small lights flickered with a pulsating glow, resembling garlands. From a distance, you could already feel a sweetish-acrid smoke, even with a somewhat cloying-nauseating smell that made me feel quite sick, and the voices of some guys could be heard.

— Do you know those guys?

— Some, maybe. See, there are some from my year here, that one and the one in the burgundy shirt — she pointed at the young men. — Let's go over to them.

Several guys with a blunt were sitting on a bench in the nearest courtyard not far from the main university building, which was surrounded by thuja, and above the thuja rose fir trees. I vaguely recognized these guys, only remembering them faintly. We started chatting animatedly about all sorts of nonsense, discussing the previous exam session and some teachers.

— Want some blunt? — one of Marina's classmates offered.

— Yeah, sure, what kind? — she responded — Juicy Jay's "Trip" "Strawberry" — she read, examining the writing on the package — , Juicy Jay's Brass. Roll any, I don't care.

Only I was fixated on my own thoughts. No matter how hard I tried to restrain myself in front of people, chatting casually, I clearly wasn't succeeding. We sipped champagne, talked about mutual acquaintances, discussed teachers. Marina finally caught my dull gaze. Distracting herself a bit from our mutual interlocutors, she glanced at me and whispered:

— What's wrong again? Eh... stop your moping already — she started comforting me — Let's go, step aside? — here she turned to the classmates — We'll step away for a couple of secs — she informed our group.

And we went behind the fir trees, and she started interrogating me again:

— So what is it? Because of Dasha again? Come on, stop it, forget it, so what... it's all nonsense, trivialities.