LITMIR.BIZ

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soaked. Konstantin Konstantinovich also took out a handkerchief, which was large, checkered, and had unusual colors not seen at the shops, and wiped his wet cheeks and forehead. He suddenly took Dina’s chin in his hand and said, “Shhh, don’t move. You have a drop of water on your earlobe, like a diamond earring.”

      Dina froze, staring at Konstantin Konstantinovich. He moved his gaze from the sparkling drop to Dina’s eyes and also froze. Then he carefully wiped away the drop, let Dina go and began folding up his handkerchief in fierce concentration.

      Dina leaned against the dark glass window and watched the rain as it flashed in the light of the streetlamp.

      Konstantin Konstantinovich, continuing to carefully fold up his handkerchief, spoke quietly. “I really wanted to kiss you.”

      Dina didn’t reply at once. “So what stopped you?”

      “For the first time, I was stopped by something that I’ve never experienced before.”

      “What was it?”

      “Well…” He kept turning the piece of fabric over and over in his hands. “Fear? No. Concern.”

      “What were you concerned about?”

      “I was afraid to offend you… to incur your displeasure.”

      “Funny.”

      “Indeed. Before today, I was sure that I knew female nature as well as I know my own five fingers. I was certain that I knew when and what women want. I always knew how I should act.” He smiled wryly. “I would never think to question whether I should kiss a woman or not. I knew that a woman must be kissed at every convenient… and even inconvenient opportunity.” He suddenly became serious and asked worriedly: “What if I had done it? Would you have…”

      “I wouldn’t have run away,” said Dina. “And I wouldn’t have slapped you.”

      Konstantin Konstantinovich chuckled and shook his head. After a brief pause, he asked, and she could hear the nervousness in his voice, “Can I try again?” He turned to Dina.

      “Not anymore,” she replied calmly. “I don’t like men that I have to manage: You can do this, you can’t do that… Here comes my tram!” She turned up her collar and got ready to dash to the stop.

      Konstantin Konstantinovich took her elbow and turned her to face him. “But we haven’t said goodbye or planned our next date.”

      Dina said, a little sternly, “I’ll be late.”

      “I’ll take you back in a taxi!” he suggested.

      “The last thing I need is to appear at the dorms in a taxi, together with you!” Dina grinned.

      “True,” Konstantin Konstantinovich laughed. “So when will we see each other again?”

      “When I come back in a week. If you don’t change your mind by then.”

      “Where and when?” He chose to ignore Dina’s last remark. “Can I call you? Tell me your number.” Konstantin Konstantinovich fumbled around in his breast pockets in search of a pen.

      “We don’t have a telephone at home.”

      “Good grief!” He looked at Dina in bafflement. “Does that still happen? Could you…”

      “Don’t fret. I’ll come back and we can meet up again.”

      “What date will that be?”

      “The third.”

      “The third!” Konstantin Konstantinovich exclaimed ruefully. “And what if it is the second? Or the fourth? Is it really possible? No telephone! Well, can you call me when you come back?” He started searching for a pen again.

      Dina took a notebook and pen from her handbag and Konstantin Konstantinovich wrote his number on the open page.

      A tram rumbled in the distance.

      “Goodbye, Konstantin Konstantinovich,” said Dina and held out her hand.

      He shook it and said, looking deep into her eyes, “Until next time, Dina. I will be waiting for your call.”

      * * *

      The room was dimly lit as the ceiling light was off, and only the table lamp stood on the table, with a newspaper covering the lampshade. Rimma was asleep, facing the wall and with the blanket pulled up over her head. Vera and Valya sat at the table with the books and notebooks spread out in front of them.

      Both turned to Dina as one when she entered the room.

      “Hi,” whispered Dina.

      “Hi,” they answered in unison.

      Dina changed clothes, took her toothbrush and toothpaste out of the bedside table drawer, and stepped out.

      Vera pointedly tapped the glass of the alarm clock with her nail. The clock was showing five minutes past midnight.

      Dina came back. She changed into a short silk robe, sat down on the bed and took from the bedside table a pharmacy jar containing a thick white cream, which she spread thickly over the face and hands. She leaned back onto her pillow and closed her eyes.

      Vera’s loud whisper broke the silence. “How was the evening?” She asked.

      “It was good,” Dina replied softly.

      “Where did you go?”

      “Have a care!” Rimma’s tense voice rang out. “It’s night already!”

      “We’re not yelling so why are you?” Vera snapped back.

      Dina said softly, “Sorry, Rimma, we’ll keep quiet.”

      Rimma threw back the blanket, put on her robe, and grabbing her cigarettes from the dresser, left the room, slamming the door.

      Vera decided that now they could talk openly, and turned to Dina. “Well, tell us, then!”

      Dina said calmly, without moving, “I am not going to tell you anything. All you do is gossip and annoy other people. Don’t you feel sorry for Rimma?”

      Vera turned away and pulled a face, but so that Dina could not see it.

      The more simple Valya did not know how to react to Vera’s tricks, so she simply looked down at her notebook, although she kept glancing at the other two.

      Vera couldn’t keep quiet and pounced on Dina again. “You’re such a good girl but you still paint your nails and bleach your face.”

      Dina didn’t reply.

      Vera kept going. “Good girls don’t doll themselves up.”

      Dina replied coolly, without opening her eyes, “Chekhov said ‘Everything should be first-rate in a person, their face, clothes, soul and thoughts.’ Have you heard that before?”

      Vera pulled a face again. “Gee, you know everything, Turbina.”

      “Every person knows what they want to know… what they need to know.”

      “Why don’t you go off and be an actress then, Turbina?”

      “Why’s that?” Dina smiled.

      “So that we would have a second Dina Durbin,” Vera pointed out. “Turbina! You were named after her, weren’t you?”

      “Yes, after her, but I am no good at acting.”

      “Oh! That’s right! You’re incapable of lying. In the movies, if you can’t lie, you can’t act.”

      “You’re wrong. Playing a role does not mean lying,” said Dina and began removing the cream from her face using cotton wool.

      Rimma came back in. “I don’t know what you’ve been saying behind my back…” She started.

      Dina interrupted her gently. “Rimma,

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