The rest of the school day passed without any quarrels, yet my mood left much to be desired. After Dasha discreetly led Tatiana aside and whispered to her, the classmates' chatter seemed to take a gentler turn, and Rostova ceased her attacks. Perhaps they were discussing matters exclusive to their friendship, but the change was so noticeable that it could hardly go unremarked. Later, when we finished hanging the garlands and the three of us were dismissed to go home, the girls suggested we head into the city center together for a bit of fun. I replied vaguely, genuinely exhausted from the early wake-up and the long trip to Ksertoni, but they persisted. Left with little energy to argue, I surrendered and agreed.
A block from the school, we found a bus stop. Only Dasha seemed confident navigating the city transport. She checked the printed schedule on the wall and announced the number of the bus we needed with certainty. We settled on the narrow bench beneath the shelter and waited. Fortunately, the bus arrived quickly. Its doors opened, and several passengers stepped off, many of whom I recognized from school.
We climbed aboard. The girls moved swiftly through the turnstile, scanning their travel passes, while I lingered near the driver's cabin to pay my fare, having pre-bought a return ticket, hoping Dasha would guide me home. Tatiana chose a pair of facing seats, and the girls sat opposite me. The aisle seat beside me remained empty.
"Is there a bookstore in the city center?" I asked.
"Of course," Dasha replied seriously, peering at me over her glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. "And it's very, very big."
A small smile tugged at my lips, and I softly clapped my hands together, careful not to disturb the other passengers. Nothing could lift my spirits quite like the thought of buying new books.
"Wonderful! Will you show me?" I asked eagerly.
Tatiana turned to the window, rolling her eyes, her lips forming silent words: Here we go again…
Dasha, however, shared my excitement. She launched into a detailed description of the books she'd discovered on the discount rack, teasing the plot without spoiling the key twists, leaving me hanging with anticipation.
"…the main character's mother, much like yours, remarried, and Bella decides to move to Forks to live with her father. At her new high school, she meets many people—and falls for the main heartthrob. But here's the twist: he's not just anyone… he's a vampire! Can you imagine?"
I froze, my eyes widening at her words, struck as though by lightning.
"You mean Twilight?" Tatiana asked, frowning, trying to recall the name.
"Yes! Yes, yes!" Dasha exclaimed, her excitement evident. "Did you read it too?"
"Pff…" Tanya snorted, folding her arms. "No way. I just watched all the movies recently. It's creepy if you think about it."
Dasha's brow furrowed. She straightened in her seat, ready to defend her beloved story. Her reaction alone made me itch to grab the book and check online reviews. Reaching for my phone, I became absorbed in the girls' argument, momentarily forgetting my own plans.
"What's so terrible about it? It's a beautiful love story, with such an amazing atmosphere," Dasha insisted.
"Ha! Amazing atmosphere," Tatiana scoffed. "Especially Bella's room, when Edward sneaks in to watch her in the middle of the night like some kind of maniac. A perfect start to a healthy relationship! That's just stalking. And the worst part? Bella finds it endearing! She throws herself into his arms, spends all her time with him, packs up her things to leave her father—just like that. A great role model for teenage girls: a naive lamb for the predator."
Dasha gasped at each comment, her objections building, but Tatiana's torrent of indignation wouldn't pause. Listening to them, the story suddenly seemed like a psychological thriller rather than a romance.
"And the only relatively normal character is Jacob," Tatiana continued, "because if you compare his relationship with Bella's—"
"NO SPOILERS!" Dasha cried, eyes squeezed shut. I flinched; this was the most restrained girl in class, after all. "I've only just finished the first part!"
"It came out in 2017. Kserton is ten years behind the rest of the country. You don't have to hide spoilers—everything's online."
"Really? I think Kserton's fine," I offered, recalling the differences between my hometown of Rostov-on-Don and this small town.
"It's just that you're not really active on social media. Most of the school isn't, either, even though there are plenty of cheap smartphones. Meanwhile, I post all sorts of interesting stuff about cosmetics," Tatiana said, smirking self-satisfiedly. "Half the town doesn't even know what bloggers are."
"Not everyone has ten thousand rubles to spend on peeking into other people's lives," Dasha said reproachfully. "And who would even care?"
"Millions! There are apps to share thoughts, discoveries, feelings—you just pick your format," Tatiana said, thrusting her phone toward Dasha. "Podcasts if you like listening. Beautiful pictures if you like visuals. Want educational content? Or cute videos? It's all here. You can even earn money if you run your page well."
"Fairy tales," Dasha muttered thoughtfully. But her expression changed when she turned to the window, pale, hand slipping onto Tanya's shoulder. "It's our stop! Girls, let's go!"
We tumbled off the bus just in time. The doors slammed behind us, the noise ringing in my ears, and I marveled at how long we'd been chattering.
As I caught my breath, I noticed a fishing shop with a massive blue door across the street and recalled how, on one of the first days of school, the boys had teased us about it being the backyard of a local attraction. Glancing around, I couldn't see any alleyways through the long building of shops, which made me uneasy. How would we reach the garden?
"We're going this way," Dasha said, already turning. I grabbed her shoulder.
"Wait," I said, pointing to the fishing shop. "Are there others like this in Kserton?"
Dasha and Tanya exchanged a glance, shrugging.
"The town's small, but there might be more. The rivers and lakes here are full," Dasha answered hesitantly.
"And it's not far to the Ob River. My dad and his colleagues often go fishing there," Tanya added.
"What street is this?" I asked, spreading my arms. Too much time had passed; I barely remembered the directions Nikita and Andrei had mentioned.
Dasha pointed to a faded yellow sign above the bus stop: Vesennya Street. The name sounded familiar.
"The guys talked about this place and the garden in the backyard. Have you been there?" I asked.
"No. My father wouldn't take me there for anything," Dasha replied.
"And me?" I looked at Tanya conspiratorially. She hesitated, opening and closing her mouth as if searching for the right words.
"Fine," Rostova finally said. "But you owe me one."