break.
Spring Rain
Dina and Konstantin Konstantinovich walked slowly across the bridge towards the tram stop.
They had spoken so much and so eagerly at the café, amid the noise and music, that it seemed strange that both were silent now, when they were alone in the silence.
The silence felt awkward as each one evaluated what they had said before and tried to decide if they had been too open or said too much.
Dina noticed a crouching kitten between the bridge pylon and the railing. She came closer and squatted down to stroke the ruffled back, covered in speckles of moisture. But the kitten fled unexpectedly, slipping out from under her fingers. Dina watched him go and stood up again. She put her hands on the bridge railing and looked over the black dense surface of the slow-moving river, which played lazily with the city lights.
“Do you love all animals? Or just cats?” asked Konstantin Konstantinovich, using it as an excuse to break the silence.
He approached the railing and stood next to Dina.
“Just cats,” said Dina.
“You exhibit an incredible combination of female and male traits,” he said and smiled at Dina. “Today has been an endless revelation for me.”
Dina turned to Konstantin Konstantinovich and stared at his face. She suddenly felt that it was not her looking, that she did not exist, and that this man, a completely unknown man, was standing next to an unfamiliar girl, and Dina suddenly wanted to burst into tears for some reason.
But the feeling lasted only a second. In the next moment, she was back in her body, and her hands could feel the cold of the iron railing. Beside her stood her teacher, who had assessed her at the exam this morning, then sat next to her in the movie theater, and, while following the trials and tribulations of the characters, played by Nakhapetov and Vetinskaya, she could nevertheless constantly feel his presence… and then… and then she danced with him at the cafe, and he was so close, and he hugged her…
“You continue to mystify me. You’re acting so odd for a woman… for a girl your age.” His voice betrayed his agitation again. “You admitted how you feel about me, after all. Which is no joke, as I understand… Aren’t you interested to know what I think about it?”
She turned away again and looked down at the wave rising at the base of the bridge – just as slow and sleepy as the river itself. When she felt that she could speak calmly, she turned back to Konstantin Konstantinovich and spoke, looking into his eyes. “Of course, I would like to know what you think… But I don’t want any lies. I don’t want you to reciprocate my words for any other reason but one – if you feel the same way. Which is impossible.” She dropped her gaze but then stared at her teacher again. “Since your relationship with Rimma Yakovleva has just finished with her having an abortion.” Konstantin Konstantinovich tried to say something but Dina ignored his reaction. “You haven’t had time to figure out your feelings for me, because my knees, which you had noticed this morning, is not the sum of me… and people don’t fall in love with knees. So it’s better if you say nothing. If you say right now that you’re in love with me, it’ll be the end. It will mean that you really are just a womanizer, and that you’re willing to pay any price to acquire another… another mistress.”
She turned away again, watching the black water speckled with gold, with only one thought in her head: don’t cry.
Konstantin Konstantinovich very carefully took Dina’s hand – it was cold and wet from the night’s dew. Seeing no resistance, he took her other hand and held them between his palms to warm them up. Dina didn’t fight him but neither did she look at him as she was still afraid of bursting into tears. She didn’t know and couldn’t understand why.
“All right,” said Konstantin Konstantinovich, “I will not say anything for now… except one thing: You seem to be cold.”
“No, I’m not cold,” said Dina, “It’s just my hands.”
Konstantin Konstantinovich breathed into his hands, where Dina’s fingers lay.
“Thank you.” Dina smiled.
They passed the bridge and stopped at the tram stop.
“You’re going home already?” asked Konstantin Konstantinovich.
“I don’t want any trouble at the dorms.” She looked at her watch.
“Yes, of course,” Konstantin Konstantinovich looked nervous. “But I… I don’t want to leave you… You don’t have any relatives here?”
“I do, but I don’t want to intrude on them. Especially this late at night.”
“Do you at least stay over there occasionally?”
“Very rarely, when my mom comes to visit.”
“Hmmm… You could tell them at the dorms that…” He suddenly laughed. “My God! Who am I advising to lie! Forgive me. But I truly do not want to part from you. I hope that you trust the sincerity of this?”
“Yes,” Dina said simply. “I believe you. No matter what you say.”
Slightly puzzled, Konstantin Konstantinovich asked, “What do you mean? I don’t understand…”
“What’s not to understand? I believe you,” Dina repeated forcefully.
“You believe me? After everything that you’ve found out about me?”
“Especially after everything that I’ve found out about you.” Dina explained, “You’re a sincere person. You’re a sincere womanizer. You sincerely love women… They throw themselves at you… It’s a perfect match. At least, you don’t lie to them that you’re going to marry them.” She stared at him. “Right?”
Konstantin Konstantinovich hung his head in embarrassment and laughed.
“Well… very rarely,” he continued, as if needing to justify his answer. “You’re all so different! You want the truth, the others want a lie! And the fancier, the better!” He looked at Dina again with the expression of curiosity, astonishment, and confusion, that had followed him all evening. “But this a first for me. I’ve said all sorts of things to women!”
The tram thundered as it approached the tram stop. Konstantin Konstantinovich looked questioningly at Dina.
“I’ll take the next one,” she replied to his unspoken question.
“Will we see each other again? Tomorrow?” he asked as the tram shut its doors and was swallowed by the damp darkness.
“I’m going home tomorrow for a week.”
“And then?”
“Then I have a placement until the end of July.”
“Where?” Again Konstantin Konstantinovich became nervous and made no attempt to hide this.
“Here.”
“Great!” He grinned in relief. “How wonderful that you are a perfect student! Otherwise, they would have sent you to the back of beyond for a month and a half.”
A few single
