One of my friends (let’s call him for the conspiracy Maxim), while studying at the institute met a girl from a parallel faculty. Let’s call it the conspiracy of the Light.

They had a common couple. They talked while standing in the hallway. Sitting together. And somehow it happened that in this couple they were held together almost all the time.

The relationship was practically friendly. On the verge of flirting. I will note that the light of my friend was not a friendzone. In the sense that she did not pour out complaints on her boys, did not ask for help with the transportation of furniture and did not try to manipulate them at all. She was just very nice, sociable and welcoming.

Maxim quickly noticed that he was waiting for a couple with some unhealthy for the student-sweeping anxiety. Listen to the feelings. Eventually, he confessed to himself that he fell in love.

During this time, he had a paper with his mobile phone number in his pocket. And every weekend, Maxim was scratching his hands to call and invite Light somewhere.

There was no 100% certainty that the Light would respond with reciprocity and would not offer pioneering friendship. There was a fear that after rejection, the joint couple would not turn into a complete discomfort. In other words, it was a stupid insecurity.

In the meantime, it came to summer holidays. The couple also ended. Then Maxim decided that he would wait for the end of the class, and there was pan or disappeared.

And here, when he finally got out of his jeans pocket a promised paper, he found that the number to the dog heroes was erased. He was in his pocket for too long. Like a stupid melodrama.

Max did not give up. He tried to recover the memory numbers. For five weeks he intimidated strangers with his sudden calls to the cell phone with questions, not whether they were the Light.

He tried through fellow students to get on to fellow students of Light and thus get on to someone who knew her phone. But he only achieved a platonic love with the old-age girl of the Svetina group. She had a recorded number, but it turned out to be old and unworking.

Max has memory. I remembered that Light once mentioned the number of the school in which she was studying. I remembered this number and called it several times, appearing as a lawyer, then a journalist. The directorate of the school did not give the number and, probably, was surprised for a long time - what the Light distinguished that attracted so much attention.

Eventually, the parents invited Max to take a trip to the south. Max realized that he was almost fucking out of the summer and agreed. The entire family arrived at the airport loaded with bags.

And when Max was already going to land, his cell phone ringed.

The Maxim? Hi to you! Going to the cinema today? A sound of light came from the tube. Max looked at the bags, on the parents, thrown mentally into what would become a romantic version of the development of events. Then he guessed how many percent of his soul would die if he chose not with his heart, but with his head.

"Sorry, it won't work today," hating himself, he answered on the phone.



Fate loves such jokes.