Sunflowers

Dima was ready to fall into the ground out of shame when the teacher, opening the side of the board, froze in surprise, looking at the green surface covered with writing up and down. A lot was written, and the only thing that made Dima happy was that the entire text was imbued with goodwill and joy. True, now even those who had not previously shown any interest looked askance at him. “Maybe he’s writing compliments to himself?” someone from the northern desks grinned, and a blush appeared on Dima’s cheeks. Before he could open his mouth, however, thunder struck nearby. For some reason, the small and plump Kazakh boy, Danik, with whom he shared a desk, constantly stood up for him. Even when there was no particular reason. Well, think about it, we were joking, what’s wrong with that? “So it’s you, Misha, who’s writing!” Danik shouted loudly, and half the class roared with laughter. Misha blushed and rose above his desk, glaring angrily at the joker. He had precociously developed fists and the appearance of a real fighter, which made Dima feel a little afraid for his teammate. Coughing awkwardly, he grabbed Danik by the sleeve and pulled him down. At this point the teacher finally paid attention to the troublemakers in the classroom. “Petrov! Taulanov! Close your mouths and listen!” After the lesson, which, by the way, went quite peacefully, Dima helped wash the board. He was slightly embarrassed by the attention that the unknown admirer was paying him: the compliments were generously flavored with crookedly drawn flowers, and the lines sparkled with phrases like those that girls love so much in cute romantic stories.

“I really like you, Dimka! It’s a pity, I don’t dare say it out loud…”

“You’re the nicest kid on the block.”

“I’m obsessed with you!”

“Angels really exist. Maslennikov, you’re hiding badly! : -)”

While the teacher was distracted, Dima took out his phone and photographed the sweet confessions. He rarely received such compliments, even though he was quite handsome. And the unknown fan, despite the ridicule of the class, still lifted his spirits personally. And the flowers… He even wanted to leave the crookedly drawn sunflower, but the teacher breathed on the back of his head, and Dima regretfully waved a rag at the flower. Some, of course, were not artists, but they painted with all their hearts. “Well, Maslennikov, were you looking for hidden requests for an autograph?” Misha snorted when Dima entered the biology classroom. “No…” Dima sat down and began to take out textbooks. “But you can say them now, don’t be shy,” Danik again put in his two cents. In biology, he and Dima sat separately, but still quite close. Misha stood up and hovered over his short classmate. “Churka, what are you, immortal or something?” “Well, yes, I’m Kazakh,” Danik was not at all embarrassed. A meter with a cap, wide and squat, like a bedside table, he, however, was not at all timid, although he looked up at Misha. The rest of the schoolchildren dropped what they were doing and froze in anticipation of a juicy fight. Here it was difficult to say how it would all end, but the theory of probability was broken by the biologist, who swam into the classroom like an evil Ursula. “Petrov! Taulanov! Take your seats!” Misha, angrily grumbling something under his breath about arrogant chumps who stick their dirty noses in the wrong places, went to his desk. Taulanov opened the textbook and, when the teacher turned away, began to draw something in a draft hidden under the book. This is understandable; tapeworms are not a topic that anyone would want to listen to forever, let alone be interested. Dima was a nerdy nerd, so he patiently listened to the biology teacher and noted down the necessary things in a notebook. At one point, he realized that he was simply moving a pen over the sheet of paper, safely without staining the sheet with ink. Damn it! Also, as luck would have it, he didn’t take an extra pen! “Psst, Danik!”, looking around in search of salvation, Dima grabbed at a straw. This straw, of course, showed no interest in the lesson, but she constantly carried with her a pencil case full of pens. “Help me, I’ll return it later,” he whispered quietly when the small Kazakh raised his head. Danik showed “ok” with his fingers and dug into his bag in search of a pencil case. And Dima… Dima froze when the drawing, which Danik had previously covered with his palm, suddenly caught his eye. These were sunflowers. Exactly the same as on the board then. Curves, very sketchy, but very cute and recognizable. Perhaps, of course, Danik simply drew them because he saw them on the same ill-fated board in the morning, but Dima’s heart still started racing. And even stronger when Danik, giving him the pen, caught the direction of his gaze and, turning pale, abruptly hid the notebook under the textbook. Dark brown and light brown eyes locked. Sparks, lightning, madness — and Danik jumped up sharply. “Tama… Tamara Gargadevna!” he exhaled, getting confused in the middle name of the respectable woman out of excitement. “May go out?” “Yes,” the biological scientist said without even turning in his direction. She had her own problems: the projector suddenly gave up life, and the tapeworms disappeared from the eyes of the schoolchildren happily. Danik literally flew out of the class, receiving several curious glances after him. Dima stood up too, feeling his throat dry from excitement. “Can I, Tamara Arkadyevna?” “Yes.” “What, let’s go look for worms?” giggled another joker — probably the same cheerful Misha — but Dima no longer paid attention to him. He rushed past the duty officer along the corridor, so quickly and brazenly that he didn’t even bother to stop him. Having caught up with Danik, he grabbed him by the shoulders, making him scream, and dragged him into the first room he came across. Luckily it turned out to be a toilet. Having locked it from the inside, Dima released Danik, and he, like a little rat in front of a terrier, hid in a corner, blinking warily. Dima was somewhat surprised by his reaction and was already one hundred percent sure that the author of the inscriptions on the board was precisely him, a petty and ridiculous Kazakh who always defended him in front of everyone, even when no one asked for it. “Why did you do this?” he asked, standing at the door so that Danik would not slip and run away. Dima really didn’t want to chase him around the school. Danik licked his lip. “I…” he lowered his head, his cheeks flushing, and exhaled: “I was just kidding.” “But why? It was more like…” Dima fell silent, opening his mouth wide. An unexpected guess burst into his head from his leg, making him blush no less than Danik. Taulanov no longer looked brave at all. It seems that he was ready to faint, but had not yet figured out where exactly. And Dima, having recovered from his stupor, looked at him with specific interest. “I thought some girl wrote it,” he admitted. “Very nice. But your sunflowers gave you away.” “Oh, damn!” Danik breathed out. “Stirlitz has never been so close to failure!..” “Do you really like me?” Dima bowed his head slightly. From his upbringing he understood that this was strange, but with his mind he did not see anything that would make him hysterical and faint. Danik nodded without raising his head. He didn’t look at Dima, so he missed the whole range of emotions that he demonstrated. But he didn’t miss the palms that, having crushed his full cheeks, lifted his head. Their glances connected again — a spark, a storm, madness! Dima looked at him searchingly, turning his head this way and that. Danik felt extremely embarrassed, and he raised his chin. “Well, are you going to hit me in the face?” he asked busily, squinting his already narrow eyes. “Why?” Dima was sincerely surprised. “Well… I’m a fag.” For several moments Maslennikov was simply silent. His palms, holding someone else’s cheeks, were slightly sweaty, and his light brown gaze traced the air. “I didn’t see you littering, bro,” he finally stated and resolutely bent over the frozen Danik.

***

“Well, cockroaches, did you find worms?” Misha giggled when, at the end of the lesson, a suspiciously pleased Dima returned, dragging a stupidly smiling Danik in tow. Going “to the toilet” — although, in fact, they ended up there, though for a completely different reason — the guys briefly glanced at each other and grinned synchronously, as if they knew something inaccessible to others. “Well, yes, we definitely found one worm,” Danik said, unable to resist, and walked past, while Misha, frozen, tried to figure out why everyone around him began to giggle.