Читать книгу Mission 777 Possible - Марина Спроуз - Страница 21

It was a significant day, the day of my entrance exam to the institute. I had already grown fond of this huge city to me, the giant – Kharkiv. Today I got up early, quickly got to the institute, and just by the door, I realized I forgot my documents.

“Where are you rushing to?” the driver of the gray “Volga” shouted.

I literally threw myself under the car’s wheels.

“All is lost,” I thought, as I had forgotten my passport, and the exam was in half an hour, and I still had to get to Alexeevka.

The driver cursed, saying something about being late for work, but agreed to drive me home for a fee, pick up the passport. The car flew through the avenues, overtaking everyone, and somehow I made it in time. Biology exam. Everything was symbolic that day; the exam card was number 33. I stared at the card and repeated to myself: thirty-three, thirty-three… I also thought that 3 was my lucky number, and ticket number 7, too, my favorite. Sitting in front of me were two teachers: a man and a woman. The woman immediately disliked me, I could tell by her distrustful look, but the man, on the contrary, looked interested and as if he wanted to help when I pondered before giving another answer. At some point, when I thought it was all over and I didn’t know the answer, it was as if information began to come to my head, as if I had turned to some kind of higher library. And finally, everything! Grade – 4. Hooray!

I was really tired that day, either me or my brain, and my grandmother, Claudia Alexandrovna, and I decided to take a walk in the park. We stood in the square, where the world seemed to me like a huge metropolis, because I was from a small town. It was time to take a few photos, and we captured ourselves after this tough day.

Exams passed. In the dean’s office, the secretary, a woman in her fifties, said, “Oh…” – looking at my card – “you passed the exams well, and you have a preference for admission, as an orphan, you might make it.” I don’t know why, but this humiliating word – orphan, which appeared in my life, I hated; I felt ashamed or something, it sounded humiliating and unpleasant. Why pity for me caused my displeasure, I didn’t know then.