"Who breaks up over the phone, anyway? It's so ugly!" Tatiana scolded me the next day at the gym. Kostya had insisted I shouldn't be left alone. Right after the flight, we had returned home, dropped off our things, and my father had walked me to school, insisting it was for the best.
But instead of our regular classes, the entire class was helping the parents' committee. The girls had been decorating the gym since early morning for the long-awaited Friday event. Tanya and Dasha were in charge of the garlands, which someone had meticulously and lovingly cut out. Three overflowing boxes held a riot of Halloween colors: orange, white, and black. The black decorations were especially intricate. Beyond the coal-dark paper, cut-out spiders and bats bore subtle highlights—some shimmered with foil accents, catching the spotlights, while others had fragments of velvet paper that gave them a surprising depth.
I pulled out a garland bristling with bats and, armed with tape, climbed the ladder. Dasha stood close, steadying it with both hands.
"Just in case," she murmured awkwardly, and I realized how startled I had been before.
"Well? Why are you silent?" Tatiana pressed. "You'd love it if Nik just sent a quick breakup message, wouldn't you?"
"What do you want me to say, Tanya? It's done. Hold the garland straight, or we'll tear it," I muttered, gripping the ribbon.
Tanya rolled out the length on the floor and lifted it higher.
"You haven't seen him yet, have you?"
"Who, Tanya?"
"Nikita! Who else?" she snapped, her eyes narrowing.
"Not yet. And I hope I don't."
Tanya's face flushed. Her eyes, wide and fierce, seemed to accuse me as if I had ended things with her on the phone, not Karimov.
"What kind of person are you, really?" she demanded.
"Tanya, this isn't your business," I said firmly. Words failed me. "You don't understand."
"I don't understand?!" Her voice echoed through the hall. "I understand perfectly! But you… you understand nothing! Do you know what it feels like to think you've finally found someone? Your person, the one who would love you no matter what—and then be thrown out of a moving car without explanation?" She paused, staring off for a moment, as if reliving some old pain, and I wondered if someone had done the same to her.
"Tanya, it's complicated. Very complicated. I'm not proud of what I did. At the time, sending the message seemed like the only way. I wasn't ready to face him, to talk it through. Nikita wouldn't have accepted it—he would've tried to change my mind," I admitted, cheeks burning. "And I… I wouldn't have been able to handle it. Everything would've gone back to where it was. Love against all odds… it has too many 'buts.'"
"Wait." Tatiana handed me the end of the garland, the only one still unattached. "Do you still have feelings for him?"
"Tanya, of course. But we just… can't be together," I said, keeping it brief, wishing I could confide in someone completely. Tanya, though loud and intrusive, was never someone I felt close to. Her energy irritated me; I sometimes wished I could be a bit more like her, but I never could.
Dasha listened quietly, passing me a new garland of delicate, paper ghosts. I accepted it without leaving the ladder. Tatiana again took the heavier end to make it easier for me. Carefully, I taped the garland to the wall.
"Listen… what really happened between you two?" Tatiana asked softly. "You don't have to say, but if he hurt you or anything like that, everyone should know…"
"No—no, nothing like that!" I said quickly, afraid gossip might spread. "It's… complicated. Family stuff. After grandma's funeral, everything changed. My stepfather went off the rails, my parents fought constantly, and I need to study for exams—but I don't even know what to study, haven't chosen a major yet."
"Then pick Ksertonsky State University, simple as that," Tanya said.
"Yes, but… for what?"
"That, I can't decide for you."
"Exactly. How can anyone know what they want to do with their life at our age, if they haven't really tried anything yet?"
Dasha shrugged, joining the conversation casually.
"For me, it's simple. I'm going to the philology department."
Tanya and I stared at her.
"Philology? With your science streak?" Rostova raised an eyebrow.
"Good grades don't mean I like the subjects," Dasha replied timidly and fell silent again.
We continued decorating, each absorbed in our role: Dasha passed garlands and steadied the ladder, Tanya kept the decorations aligned, and I taped the strings to the wall. Lost in thought, we worked in harmony, occasionally exchanging small comments about placement or solving minor issues, like fetching another roll of tape or snacks.
During a break, I volunteered to go get food. I asked what everyone wanted, took my wallet, and headed to the cafeteria. Just as I reached the door, I froze. Nikita was walking toward me from the opposite side of the hall. Our eyes met, and the weight in my chest was instant and heavy—there was nowhere to run.