My silent wish was answered. The click of high heels rang crisply against the linoleum, announcing Diana's entrance. To be honest, I'd never noticed her in biology before — hardly surprising, since I always sat up front and rarely looked back.
To my surprise, she went straight to the teacher. Leaning ever so slightly toward him, she offered a bright, calculated smile and whispered something I couldn't catch. The effect was immediate. The teacher's face softened; he nodded as though granting a small favor. Diana, clearly satisfied, turned on her heel and strode to my desk. Without hesitation, she pulled back the empty chair beside me — Stanislav's usual place — and sat down.
"I thought you could use a partner while Stanislav's out. Mine's missing today too," she said, already fishing a notebook from her bag.
"That'd be great. Do you know what we're doing?" I asked.
She tilted her chin toward the board. At the top, in neat, rounded script, was written: Analysis and Evaluation of Different Hypotheses on the Origin of Man.
"Oh." My enthusiasm deflated. "So… lots of reading and writing, then."
"Please." Diana flicked her hand dismissively, then picked up the textbook. With a practiced glance at the table of contents, she landed on the page we needed. "Three pages. We'll spend more time drawing the table than reading."
Relieved, I shifted closer so we could both see.
When the bell rang, the teacher closed the door and took his place at the board. He announced the lab's topic, sketched a rough table in chalk, and wrote nine names along its side. We were to locate nine corresponding theories in the textbook, then choose the one we found most convincing. The choice had to be defended in a short essay.
Diana took charge immediately, scanning for the relevant details while I recorded them in our table. In no time, we'd filled in every slot. She began reading aloud.
"I like this one," she said, smiling faintly as she read: 'Man is the kin of all creatures, a brother to everything on Earth — not only beasts, birds, and fish, but also trees and fungi… Above all, man resembles the animals in his remarkable similarity to them.'
"Why that one?" I asked.
"Because it doesn't reek of arrogance. It praises equality, sees man as the brother of all living things. Isn't it beautiful?"
"Sure. But doesn't Darwin also say humans come from animals?"
She cut me off. "Yes, but Darwin still puts man above them — top of the pyramid. Every other creature becomes a lesser copy, a failed prototype."
Frowning, I pulled the textbook closer and found the relevant line. "That sounds more like Robbins's theory. Look."
She leaned in to read, smelling faintly of fresh soap.
"You're right. Robbins did call animals 'unsuccessful attempts' at perfection. Sorry, Uncle Darwin!" she declared loudly enough to stir a ripple of amusement — though the teacher didn't even glance up.
"So, which one will you choose?" she asked.
"I'm not sure. Definitely not Isokata and his 'man is man because he speaks' nonsense. He's clearly never met a crow."
"What's wrong with crows?"
"Nothing. They talk as much as parrots do."
Her brows lifted in genuine surprise.
"In any case, I'm not drawn to the 'pinnacle of creation' stuff," I said.
Diana's eyes narrowed slightly. "Would you still say that if you didn't know about vampires?"
"Shh!" The hiss escaped me before I could stop it. It wasn't my secret to risk.
She smirked. "Relax. No one's listening. People rarely notice what's right under their noses."
"Tell that to the half of the school who didn't notice me and Nik walking in hand in hand."
"With Nik?" Her tone shifted — cooler, edged. "Karimov?"
"That's the one. Just goes to show people see only what they want to."
Her lips pressed into a thin line as she returned to her textbook. "How long have you been talking to him?"
"We're dating," I corrected.
"Dating?!" Her voice rose before she caught herself. Even the teacher's pen tapped a warning against his desk.
"Yes. What's the big deal?"
"Do you even know who he is?"
"He told me. Why are you acting like this?"
"What exactly did he tell you?"
"That he's also a vampire."
She repeated the words slowly, almost in disbelief. "Also a vampire. Asya, not all vampires are created equal. I thought I'd made that clear."
"You talk like I'm only allowed to socialize with your little Smirnov circle."
"And the Yakovlevs," she added. "Max and Viola are actually twins."
I tried to recall Max's face — faint memory from the cafeteria — but could only match him vaguely to Viola's coloring. She was striking, almost mythic; Max, though well-groomed, left no lasting impression.
"So the Smirnovs and the Yakovlevs are the good vampires?"
"That's right."
I laughed, expecting her to join me, but her expression stayed grave.
"I'm not joking."
"I see. I just don't get why I can talk to you, but not date Nik."
"He's dangerous."
"Funny," I murmured, jotting my final sentence and capping it with a period. "Nik said the same thing about you."
She gave a short, humorless laugh. "How prudent of him."
We finished our essays in silence. When I finally set down my pen, Diana's eyes were on me, unblinking.
"Asya, you should be more careful with Nik."
"And shouldn't I be careful with you, too? Why should I trust a girl I only met this morning over someone who's stood by me for two months?"
"Because I don't want anything from you."
"But he does, right?"
Her answer never came. The teacher began collecting our work, starting at our desk. We handed over our sheets, and class was dismissed. Diana was quick to gather her things and head for the door.
I hurried to follow — but collided headfirst with someone just outside. Pain flared, and I stumbled back, pressing a cool hand to my brow.