You Have Unlocked the Memory

      I opened my eyes to find myself lying on a soft sand-colored blanket. Nina was lying next to me, sprawled on her back and turning her head in my direction, exposing her delicate plump cheeks to the sunlight. The blue glitter sequins on the cheekbone were already smudged and barely glistened. Nina was still asleep.       The sun was already sinking towards the horizon, and therefore it no longer killed with its unbearable heat. I looked at the phone screen. It was six o'clock in the evening, which meant that we had slept for at least two hours.       Sitting down and touching my head, I winced, feeling a hangover. There was a nasty taste of alcohol in my mouth. Grunting, I stood up, brushing off the grass and moving closer to the cliff. We were in Su-Psekh, a small village two kilometers from Anapa, where the Caucasus Mountains began. The sky merged with the sea so that the horizon line was not visible, like one big blue canvas. Down by the shore, there was a thin strip of golden beach. The freshness of the evening breeze blew over me, giving me coolness, which made my fried during the day hands covered with goosebumps. The humid air was saturated with the smells of the sea, pine trees and eucalyptus.       It was my first student vacation, in which I decided to combine holidays at the sea with a summer job. And what else can you go to work if you are studying to be a teacher, and there are just about thirty teaching teams at your university? The choice was obvious. A poor student like me, who dreams of escaping from her middle lane to a resort, saw this offer as an ideal opportunity to combine business with pleasure.       It was the first time Nina and I were counselors at the children's camp and we sincerely believed that everything would be simple and fun. As a result, we were assigned to different squads, leaving Nina and the six-year-olds on the ground floor, and putting me on the second floor to wait for a solyanka from Norilsk. It turned out that it was very difficult to work with children, especially when their ages range from six to seventeen. While you're trying to calm the screams of some, others have already gone to their rooms and taken out their phones. At the end of the evening, our heads were spinning, our legs and back ached, and our mouths were endlessly forgetting and mixing words.       On our first day off, Nina and I flew out of the camp, taking a bus, and leaving the center of Anapa. We ran through the market, which preserved all the chaos and aura of the noughties with its boutiques with a wall of clothes strung on hangers, a bunch of tasteless souvenirs, as well as sweets and ice cream languishing in the open sun.       "Can we buy from Vazgen?" Nina suggested as we walked past the shopping malls. Her long blue hair, just like a mermaid's, glistened along her back. It was hard not to be lost in the puppy's sincere gaze of brown eyes. The children simply adored Nina, she seemed to them like a fairy who came out of the Black Sea, whose only purpose was to take care of them, take them to the dining room and endlessly play. They ran up to her every day, begging her to put blue sequins on their cheeks as well, and then rushed around and rejoiced that they had become at least a little involved in her mysterious magical nature.       "Not at Vazgen's," I begged, "After his dimedrol wine, a few precious hours of my life fell out of my memory. Let's go to a regular liquor store, grab a small Armenian cognac and finally have a good time."       "Okay, fine," she quickly agreed, smiling.       That's what we did. Putting the amber bottle in our backpack, we also walked along the embankment, warmed up under the scorching sun to such an extent that we had to cool off at the fountain, had lunch with shawarma in the pit, which was prepared here a little in the Greek manner, and then caught a bus and went to Su-Psekh.       Su-Psekh was an iconic place among the camp counselors, as they said, there were just crazy romantic sunsets and unrealistically cool photos turned out in the golden hour. Inspired by their stories, we followed them.       "I don't recognize this city," I said, watching the movie on the other side of the bus window, "I was here seven years ago, when I was a child, and Anapa seemed to me rather empty and boring. There were not all these new buildings, lots of plantings and infrastructure. I remember living with relatives in Krasny Khutor, and from there we got to the beach on a completely empty broken road. And now I can't even recognize this place."       Nina didn't answer, enjoying the passing view. She had not been to Anapa or even to the sea before this year, so she could not share my surprise.       "Great holidays," she smiled, squinting from the bright sun, "However, I failed to close the session, so I will have to deal with these tails in September. But I'm still very happy. The sun, the sailor, we are going to the mountain."       It took us about an hour to get to Su-Psekh. Nina, of course, greatly exaggerated, calling the hills, which we planned to climb, a mountain. After getting off at the last stop and finding ourselves in a half-empty area of new buildings, we suddenly decided to go to a cosmetics store because Nina needed tweezers. She left hers at home.       Brands with paints stacked in narrow boxes, like magic wands, caught my eye.       "Nina!" I shouted. "What if I dyed my hair like yours?"       "It will be fun!" she was delighted, coming closer and already picking out the right brand with her eyes, "You have blonde hair, direct pigment will be enough. What color do you want?" I thought about it, carefully examining the proposed palette.       "I already wore pink at school, though using a toning shampoo. What do you think about purple? Will you help me?"       "I like it! Let's do it, I'll paint you myself."       After buying the hair dye, I looked a little sadly at the money running out in the bank's personal account, and then spat, deciding that impressions were more important. After leaving the store, we confidently headed towards the high hills.       At first the road was wide and comfortable, although a little steep and bumpy, but then it narrowed down a lot, and now we couldn't walk together and chat, just followed each other. Twenty minutes later we reached the top, admiring the sprawling views, walked along the rocky cliff, squinting from the bright sunlight.       The same rays played on the surface of gently whispering waves. The sky was clear and blue today, without a single cloud, as if painted with acrylic. In the distance, sailboats could be seen gliding smoothly through the water. If we had more money, we would probably be in one of them right now. But, unfortunately, so far we have been just poor students, passionately looking for any opportunity to have a good rest and at the same time spend almost nothing. We walked in silence, enjoying the melodious sound of the surf. Then we spread out a blanket, took out and tasted the Armenian cognac we had bought with a melted chocolate bar. Of course, we forgot to think about cups, so, squinting, we took scalding sips directly from the bottle and passed them to each other.       Alcohol reached our heads very quickly, and soon we were laughing loudly, dancing to music from the phone, joking and enjoying the weekend. Our student holidays.       "Let's take pictures!" Nina exclaimed, getting up and giving me her phone.       She stood up in unthinkable and original poses, squatting, bouncing, seductively turning her back. The skin burned during the day has already turned red in the sun.       "Now give me," I said, almost tripping on the spot. "I also want to undress and take a picture in a swimsuit, I put it on today."       "Ok."       The photos turned out to be just great except for one thing. Glancing at myself, I noticed chocolate marks on my lips. No matter how hard I tried to lick them, there were still spots in some places. But I liked myself anyway.       "And now let's take a selfie," I suggested.       We stood up together, pressing our cheeks against each other, drunk, laughing and smiling. The wind picked up, blowing our long hair up, and it immediately fell apart, fell on our face, blocking all visibility. Trying to get myself in order, I suddenly bumped into Nina's lips. They were soft and cool, they must have been weathered in the air, and she licked them often. This pleasant feeling made me dizzy, and I leaned closer, touching her cheek with my hand. Nina didn't pull away, kissing me back.       The phone, frozen in his hand, continued to take selfies.