Other universes of Cherner's realities.

The alarm went off abruptly and inappropriately loud. Kamila gasped hoarsely, jumping up on the bed. "I forgot to turn it off." Alyona, without opening her eyes, threw a pillow at her. The pillow flew past and thudded against the wall. Sasha propped herself up on her elbows and stared at the phone with sincere bewilderment. "Why is Songs Vanya Dmitrienko playing for my alarm clock? - she muttered. — I don't listen to that… Pause. "And why isn't the ceiling mine?" Realization came slowly but mercilessly: not the house, not her bed, the desert in her mouth, the buzz in her head. The second of September. School. Ten minutes later, the girls were running around Alyona's apartment, tripping over each other, washing their faces with cold water and picking up scattered things. The breakfast was conditional, the time was critical. On the way to school, Kamila suddenly slowed down her pace. Her vision went dark, and the asphalt seemed to float. — Kami! Alyona managed to grab her by the elbow. "What's the matter with you?" "It's okay,— Valieva replied quickly, too quickly. "I just... didn't get enough sleep." Alyona and Sasha exchanged glances. They knew that Kamila's "normal" meant the opposite for a long time. They flew into the school almost running, without changing shoes, and took the penultimate desk. Alyona immediately disappeared — a minute later, a plastic cup with hot tea appeared in front of Kamila. "Live Kami" — Kostornaya said contentedly. Kamila smiled gratefully and took a sip. Warmth slowly spread through my body. Sasha looked at the empty desk in front of her: "And me?" "I'll buy you a Lip Rolling Machine," Alyona replied without batting an eye. "I remember,— Trusova grinned. — I won't give you any more homework" . Three minutes later, Alyona returned with a bun. Sasha silently held up two fingers. The debt is accepted. Kamila lowered her head to her desk. Alyona automatically ran her hand through her hair — Kami shuddered, but did not pull away. She was pale and tired, as if she hadn't slept for several nights in a row. The geography lesson began without the usual noise. It was too quiet, and it immediately alerted. Dmitry Alekseevich Cherner entered the classroom, closed the door behind him and did not greet him. He silently put the magazine on the table, took off his watch and carefully placed it next to it, as if to show that he had enough time. Dmitry Alekseevich Cherner started the lesson without swinging. "Open the atlases," he said calmly. — You need Grade 11A, now we will test your knowledge. The class rustled through the pages. Camila slowly took out the atlas, feeling her hand pull uncomfortably under the bandage. Alyona, without raising her head, whispered:" I don't like the creepy one anymore" . Meanwhile, Cherner moved away from the table and began to walk slowly between the rows . Not in a hurry. Without looking at the notebooks. He was looking at people. Someone was straightening up. Someone pretended to be reading. Someone was smiling nervously. And it started with Two points. Three. Harsh questions. The only excellent student, Mark Kondratyuk, is frankly tired of fighting back. Cherner started looking for a new "Victim" and stopped at the last row. Then he took a step forward. One more. His gaze slid over Sasha, lingered for a second, but passed on. Trusova didn't even notice, she was drawing something in a notebook. Alyona felt this look on her skin and mentally cursed, well, she was not comfortable. Soon Alyona was already answering the teacher's questions. The result is a proud four in the diary. "I wonder," Cherner said, not looking at anyone in particular, "why geography is considered an easy subject" . He turned around. And he looked directly at Kamila. Not abruptly. Not aggressive. Simple and accurate.—Valieva,— he said, as if tasting the name. "Stand up." The classroom became very quiet. Kamila stood up, trying not to show how her knees were shaking. She felt Alyona tense up next to her, and Sasha finally raised her head.—Tell me,— Cherner continued, "which countries have access to the Mediterranean Sea?" The question was simple. Too simple. And that makes it dangerous. Kamila started answering. Confident at first. Then a little slower. She hesitated for a moment. That was enough Cherner tilted his head slightly, as if he had heard exactly what he was looking for. "Are you sure?" — He asked calmly. Kamila swallowed. — That is,… Italy, Spain, France, Greece, Turkey… "That's enough,— he interrupted. He made a note in the journal. Without looking" Sit down". Kamila sat up, feeling her heart pounding in her throat. Cherner returned to the blackboard and finally looked at the whole class. —Remember,— he said in a flat voice. — I don't like it when they answer automatically. I like it when people think. And yes," he paused, —I always start with those who seem the calmest to me. Alyona squeezed the pen so hard that her fingers turned white. Sasha leaned over to Kamila and whispered: "He chose you" . Kamila didn't say anything. She already knew that. The lesson ends in ten minutes. Valieva asked her friends, "What kind of lesson are we going to have now?" "Chemistry Now, Then Math,— Alyona said. Kamila lowered her eyes her legs began to tremble on their own. Chemistry one word made her shiver. "They didn't ask us anything, please tell us that they didn't ask anything," Kamila said quietly, but she received sad nods of denial saying that they had. — whoever hesitates, Anna Stanislavovna will definitely ask. What are the chances that she won't ask me?" —One percent,— Sasha answered honestly. Kamila closed her eyes. Anna Stanislavovna entered the classroom calmly and coldly. Valieva looked at her, as always, Anna Stanislavovna was beautiful and cold —Good morning, 11A,— she said in a flat, cold tone that always made the classroom quieter. — Those who have done their homework have a chance to get a good grade. Kostornaya and Kondartyuk raised their hands. Shcherbakova raised an eyebrow." It's amazing. A year has passed , the class number has changed , and absolutely nothing has changed ." Her cold gaze was fixed on one student, Kamila Valieva, and Shcherbakova noticed that Valieva, as always, was intimidated, tired and not ready for her lesson." Valieva, answer me." Kamila stood up. The world swayed slightly. She wanted to speak, but the words stuck. Shcherbakova watched attentively. Too carefully. "Are we going to be silent for a long time? "What is it?" she asked calmly. Kamila squeezed her hand, ignoring the pain until it bled. "Sit down," — Shcherbakova finally said, turning away with the thought that it seemed to her that Kamila had blood. — Let's not make a spectacle. Kamila sat down at the desk and put her head on it, and Alena noticed that Valieva was crying tears of pain and soft sobs were heard. Alena did not say anything, planning something, perhaps revenge, a piece of paper came from the next row, in which Adelia Petrosyan wrote: "Alena, you are our headman and protection, the class is your priority, but please do not calm down, cool down," and therefore more pieces of paper came with notes from other girls in the class with words of support for Valieva. "I remind you, — continued Anna Stanislavovna, pretending that she did not notice the correspondence of the class, but was clearly impressed by the level of class support. — You are taking the Unified State Exam. Please come to me tomorrow after class to choose your exam. " The call sounded almost like salvation. Kamila left the classroom first. "Where are you going?" Sasha caught up with her, putting her hands on her shoulders and starting to massage her. "Just... to breathe." In the dining room, Alyona asked casually:" By the way, Kami, what are you giving up?" "Chemistry. The silence was deafening. "She's going to kill us,— Alyona said softly. The phone vibrated almost immediately. Kamila looked at the screen and saw a message from Adelia. Adelia wrote quickly, as if she was afraid not to make it: " Alyona, Sasha, Kami — girls, where are you? Kamila froze, not knowing what to say. Alyona took the phone from her and started typing, stopping after each word.:" Well, how to say... we, well…" The answer came almost instantly:" I understand you. Trusova, you need to see a doctor right away, your back is sore. Valieva — migraine. Kostornaya — got into a fight with bullies. Tomorrow, my girls. Kami — come alive. Alyonka, that'll be two Alyonka chocolates. Sasha goes to the hairdresser, so that tomorrow she will have fiery red hair." Sasha snorted and immediately typed in: "I just wanted to change my hair color." Alyona and Kamila wrote almost simultaneously: "All right, Adelka. Thanks for covering for us. Till tomorrow." Kamila looked at the screen again. Then she read Adelia's message again. For some reason, these words made it a little easier to breathe, as if someone had imperceptibly removed the pressure from his chest. She put her phone in her pocket and for the first time that day, she allowed herself to just exhale. They left quietly. Quickly. Almost happily. The apartment greeted Kamila with silence and empty bottles. She silently cleaned the kitchen, trying not to think, but taking one full bottle and with a grin, she poured half into the sink and turned on the water, and drank the other half in one gulp with the hope that her stepfather and mother would quarrel and divorce. She bolted the door in the room. Thinking about a lot of things, that everything was wrong with her chemistry, that Anna Stanislavovna was insanely beautiful today, about strange dreams about her dead father and the huge figure of a man with long black hair, golden eyes and golden armor with an aura of light, and Kamila always ran away from him, again thoughts about Anna Stanislavovna's school and Valieva realized that she realized too much She often began to think about Shcherbakova too often, did she really fall in love with her? Later, lying in the dark, Kamila felt a familiar numbness—an attempt to regain control, at least to lean on something. Turning around, she goes to the old bedside table, propped against the bottom of the table. Coming closer, Kamila opens the top drawer and takes out a stationery knife from there, then she makes cuts on her thigh, processes three pieces, bandages them, mentally calming down, realizing that this is wrong, but she does not know why she is doing this, maybe she knew that she was making herself worse. Kami knew it, but I still couldn't do it any other way. It feels like someone put her on this feeling on purpose. Valieva fell asleep quickly, sometimes shuddering from nightmares. The phone remained dead.