We prepare the apartment for the arrival of these "someones" whom I have no desire to see. But I try not to show my displeasure and to give her friends a chance. After all, this is her wish, and I don't want to ruin her mood. Though inside, I am boiling with resentment.
They are supposed to arrive at ten in the evening and leave by morning—unless, of course, they decide to stay and sleep until the next evening. This infuriates me, but Katrin has promised that no one will sleep in our bedroom except us. This at least provides some comfort: the bedroom is our sanctuary, a place of solitude, and I don't want anyone intruding into our space.
We set out the alcohol and snacks—chips, crackers, candy sticks, and other "junk food." We buy candies for the girls, soda, and, of course, beer. Everything looks like a typical party, but I feel like an outsider at this celebration of life.
"It seems everything's ready. They called and said they'll be here in a couple of minutes," Katrin informs me, peeking out from the kitchen. "Behave yourself, and don't be sarcastic or rude to them," she adds with a slight reproach.
"When have I ever been like that? I've always been your good boy, or have you forgotten?" I begin to distract her from the lecture by kissing her neck.
Her skin is soft, and I feel her shiver slightly at my touch. But our moment is interrupted by the doorbell. I sigh heavily, and Katrin goes to answer it.
"Remember what I told you!" she calls out before disappearing into the hallway. "Hello, so glad to see you!" I hear her say as she greets the guests.
They come in: three guys and two girls. They all look like typical partygoers—nothing out of the ordinary. I immediately feel the distance between us.
"Meet Max. Max, this is Stas, Vlad, and Peter. And with them are Masha and Tanya. Okay, get acquainted, I'll be back in a minute," Katrin says quickly and then heads toward the bedroom, leaving me alone with this group.
I stand in the middle of the room, feeling slightly awkward. They look at me, and I look at them, silence hanging between us.
"Hi, I'm Vlad. Nice to meet you!" one of the guys extends his hand, and I smile and shake it.
Inside, I resist—I don't want to get to know anyone, but I do it for Katrin. She simply wants us to be friends, and I can't let her down. My smile is forced, but I try to make it seem natural. His hand is warm, and his handshake firm, as if he wants to show his confidence.
"Nice to meet you," I say, though I want to leave the room. But I know that isn't an option.
We sit at the table. Or rather, they settle around it as if they own the place. I silently swallow their rudeness, feeling my irritation grow. My fists clench under the table, but I try to remain calm. I don't want to ruin Katrin's evening, even if her guests act as though this is their territory.
Katrin returns. They turn on music from a phone, and what I had feared most begins—noise, laughter, alcohol. I sit with Vlad, the other guys nearby. Across from us, Katrin sits with the girls. She smiles, laughs, and her eyes sparkle with satisfaction. She is happy, and that keeps me going, even if I am uncomfortable.
"How long have you known each other?" Vlad breaks the silence that has begun to settle between us. His voice is friendly, but I sense there is more behind the question. Maybe it's just curiosity, or maybe an attempt to find common ground.
"About a month and a half. And you?" My fingers tap nervously on the table, betraying my inner tension.
"We're not particularly close. We first met about a year ago."
"Where?" I don't really want to delve into the topic, but I know silence will be even more awkward.
"At a bar. She came with one of the girls in my group, and that's how we met," he says. "How did you meet her?"
His question catches me off guard. I don't want to share the story of how we met—it's personal, something I don't want to discuss with strangers. But I also know brushing him off would be unwise. It would offend him, and I don't want to ruin Katrin's evening. She has worked so hard to make everything go smoothly.
"We're classmates. We met at university," I reply briefly, trying to sound as neutral as possible. My words are true, but they don't reveal the whole story. Vlad nods, seemingly satisfied with the answer, and I feel a slight relief.
I continue talking with Vlad, occasionally glancing at Katrin. She is having fun with the girls, laughing, joking, and her eyes shine with genuine joy. She barely speaks to the guys, and I am glad for that. It bothers me to see her interact with them, to think her attention might shift to someone else. But my girl is happy in the company of her friends, and I try to keep up the conversation, to smile, even though inside, I am tense with unease.
In the end, the only person I manage to connect with is Vlad. He is the only one who seems normal in that crowd. The other guys look at me with arrogance, their eyes filled with hidden disdain. They don't speak to me, as if I am invisible. But I don't care. I know they are the outsiders here, while I am the one standing next to Rebel Girl. And that is all that matters.
Suddenly, the girls stand up, and I glance at Katrin in confusion. She walks over to me, her eyes sparkling with amusement, a faint smile playing on her lips. She leans in, kisses me lightly on the mouth, and whispers in my ear, "We're going to the kitchen with the girls to smoke. Don't miss me too much."
She leaves, leaving me sitting at the table with the guys. I nervously watch them, hoping none of them will decide to follow her. I don't want anyone invading her space.
As I glance at the guys, I notice the anger in their eyes. They are clearly unhappy that she has kissed me. Their gazes are filled with envy and irritation. But I feel a sense of superiority over them. She is mine, and she will only kiss me! Let them bury their desires somewhere far away. Rebel Girl is my girl, and no one can change that.
"So, you two are like that…" Vlad says quietly, his voice tinged with mild surprise but no malice. He is the only one who doesn't seem to resent me.
I smirk and reply, "I'd say it's even more than that."
I know they hear me, and I say it to emphasize my position. Let them know there is something deeper between us than they can imagine. My words hang in the air, and I notice how their faces twist with displeasure. But I don't care. I feel confident, knowing Rebel Girl has chosen me.
Twenty minutes later, the girls return, chatting and laughing. They sit back down at the table, and the tension eases a little. The whole time, I keep an eye on the guys, making sure no one gets up and heads to the kitchen. I know I have to be near her, to protect her, even if it just means sitting and watching.
"Hey, Peter, let's go smoke too, now that the girls are done," suggests Stas, already standing up. Apparently, he can't wait to leave the table and continue the fun in a more "intimate" setting.
"Sure," his friend replies shortly, and they both head toward the kitchen, where Katrin and her friends have just returned from. Their departure doesn't surprise me much, but I feel a slight tension.
"Why didn't you go with them? You're their friend too," I ask Vlad, surprised he hasn't been invited, and curious why.
"They know I don't smoke and can't stand the smell of cigarette smoke," he replies with a shrug.
A couple of minutes later, I need to use the restroom. I stand up and walk over to Katrin. She is sitting at the table, laughing and chatting with her friends, but when she sees me, she turns and smiles. I lean in and whisper in her ear, "I'm going to the bathroom. I'll be right back, babe."
My lips brush her ear, and she giggles as it tickles her. Her smile is so genuine that for a moment, I forget my irritation.
"Okay, just don't get lost," she replies, and I feel her hand lightly touch mine before I walk away.
I head to the bathroom, which is in the bedroom. On my way back, I pass by the kitchen. The door is slightly ajar, and I overhear Stas saying something strange: "Did you see that guy? Total nobody. Where did she even find him?" His voice drips with contempt, and I feel anger boiling inside me, but I stop to hear more.
"Oh, forget it. We're having a good time," his friend replies, though his words don't sound convincing.
"No. That kid ruined my plans. I was so excited when she invited us over. I thought we'd get drunk, and I'd finally get somewhere with her, but now she's with that loser. No way she's going to let anyone near her while he's around, acting like her guard dog."
I am furious. Blood rushes to my face, and my fists clench, nails digging into my palms. I barely hold myself back from storming into the kitchen and causing a scene.
"I'm honestly surprised that bitch hasn't slept with anyone in our group yet. I've already had her friends multiple times, but her? Not once. She acts all high and mighty, but she's just a slut."
At those words, I can't take it anymore. My patience snaps. I push the door open, and it slams against the wall with a loud crash. My face twists with rage, and every cell in my body demands action.
"What did you just say?" I step forward, ready to confront these scumbags.