The Lovers. Юлия Добровольская

directness.”

      “So, is it possible to live like this?”

      “Yes.”

      “Isn’t it difficult?”

      “On the contrary, it’s very easy.”

      “Really?” her teacher asked, still smiling.

      Then the lights grew dimmer, and the noise from spectators, getting comfortable and hurrying to find their seat, grew louder. Dina’s companion leaned close to her ear and whispered:

      “You have roused my curiosity. May we continue this conversation later?”

      Dina turned towards him. The cinema screen began to glow. Her teacher’s face was very close in the gathering darkness and looked especially striking – the symmetrical, strong facial features were emphasized by the light falling from one side and reflecting in his eyes, as well as the very attentive but gentle and thrilling gaze, and the slightly parted, smiling lips.

      “We may,” said Dina and turned back to the screen, but she could see Konstantin Konstantinovich watching her, out of the corner of her eye.

      She calmly met his gaze. He smiled again, then turned to face the screen.

      Later in the Evening

      They reached the doors to the Rainbow Cafe by squeezing through a large crowd wishing to get inside. It was the most popular cafe among young intellectuals, and it always had live music and a lack of free seats.

      Even when the crowd realized that these two were not rudely skipping the line but that the doorman had gestured at them in welcome, perhaps as they had reserved a table or for another reason, the desperate crowd did not deign to part and let the lucky pair through.

      Dina and Konstantin Konstantinovich approached the cloak room, and he took the lady’s coat, then took off his own and handed them to the attendant.

      Dina was fixing her hair in front of the mirror, and saw her teacher approaching and adjusting his thick, wavy black hair, running first one hand and then the other through them like a comb, and smoothing his jacket. Yet he was looking at Dina as he performed all these actions.

      Dina turned to Konstantin Konstantinovich. “You were so sure that I would come with you to the cafe?”

      He smiled and said, trying to sound playful, “No, I wasn’t. I wasn’t even sure if you would come at all.”

      “But you bought the tickets and reserved a table at the café… I suppose you could sell the tickets to someone else, but the cafe doesn’t refund the deposit.”

      Still smiling, Konstantin Konstantinovich looked down. “If you had not come, nothing else would have upset me further.” He glanced up again. “To hell with the money that I would have lost.”

      Dina noted again how changeable this man’s face was, and how such a simple movement of facial muscles could create so many different smiles.

      She stared at her teacher in silence, as if trying to discern if he was telling the truth or just prattling.

      It appeared that Konstantin Konstantinovich did not know the answer himself. His face showed a mixture of curiosity about his remarkable student, whom he had known for three years and yet, as it suddenly turned out, he did not know at all, and disconcertion before her disarming frankness, as well as tension caused by his desire to not lose this mask of a frivolous fop, and the fear that it was the mask that would repulse this girl, who refused to play games and talk insincerities.

* * *

      They were shown to the only free table, which stood in the prime location with a Reserved sign, by the huge window that revealed the glowing lights of the city. The table was also a good place from where to see the stage with a five-person vocal-instrumental ensemble.

      Dina sat down on the chair that Konstantin Konstantinovich had pulled out for her. He sat opposite, continuing to observe his companion with unconcealed interest.

      An elegant, sharply dressed man approached the table.

      Seeing him, Konstantin Konstantinovich stood up and extended his hand:

      “Hello, Misha! Let me introduce you: Dina… Dina Alexandrovna. Mikhail Anatolievich.”

      “Good evening. Pleased to meet you,” said Mikhail Anatolievich, then quietly asked Konstantin Konstantinovich, “Any special requests?”

      “I’ll find you if anything,” he replied.

      “Certainly. Enjoy your evening.” Mikhail Anatolievich nodded to Dina and walked away.

      Konstantin Konstantinovich lit the candle in the clear red holder and looked at Dina in embarrassment. “I am currently feeling an overwhelming urge to tell the truth.” He beamed another one of his numerous expressive smiles and dropped his gaze. “I didn’t pay a deposit… my friend, my old classmate, works here as the manager.” He nodded in the direction of the departed Mikhail Anatolievich, and looked at Dina. “Misha, I mean… Thus, this table is always mine.”

      “Do you have a friend managing the cinema too?” Smiled Dina.

      Konstantin Konstantinovich laughed with relief, finally sensing his companion’s joking tone. “No, I bought the tickets myself. Half an hour before you came.”

      “I’ll say this straight up: I can pay for the ticket and dinner myself. Which I will do a bit later, so that I don’t put you in an awkward position,” Dina said quietly but firmly.

      “Well, you already have,” Her teacher tried to appear offended.

      “Never mind, you’ll get over it.”

      “How come? May I ask?”

      “Demonstrating my independence.”

      “Oh my! This is serious.” Konstantin Konstantinovich rested his chin on his hands and stared at Dina. “You’re becoming more and more interesting by the minute.”

      “So are you.”

      “Me? Why?”

      “And why me?”

      “I asked first,” Dina’s companion chuckled.

      “All right, I’ll tell you the truth. Although I still need to pass the state examination with you.”

      “And defend your thesis!” her teacher pointed out with a cheeky smile. “I am the President of the State Committee at your Faculty… but go on! Nothing ventured, as they say.” He cut himself off. “By the way, how about some champagne? It was your last exam today! My treat.” Without waiting for a reply, Konstantin Konstantinovich called a waiter over and ordered a bottle. “So, I am all ears. Why do I surprise you?”

      “Do you know what they say about you at university? Among the students, I mean?”

      “Hmmm… Not all of it, I bet.” Dina’s teacher stared at her with an attentive and expectant smile.

      “What do you know?” asked Dina.

      “Oh no! You started it so you ought to continue.”

      “All right, I will.” She paused, as if summoning the courage. “Well, they say that by the end of the course there’s no female student left who hasn’t… well, you know.”

      Konstantin Konstantinovich covered his face with his hands as he laughed. “Yes, yes, I’ve heard this. However…”

      Dina interrupted him. “That’s not all. Half of them are then forced to have abortions.”

      “Just one small correction,” Konstantin Konstantinovich interrupted, “no bimbos… They also say that I have a child in every year level.”

      “I don’t find this funny.” Dina looked serious.

      “Well, it depends,” He stopped laughing and looked at Dina. “So what do you find surprising?”

      “What I heard about you does not match what I am seeing right now.”

      “Really? What doesn’t match?”

      “Firstly,