Читать книгу The Lovers - Юлия Добровольская - Страница 7

Dina stopped to think about where she should go. The girls at the dorms were preparing for the exam that she has just passed. Aunt Ira was at work, Anya and Kolya were at university. It was cloudy outside and the rain could start at any second, and she did not want to get wet. It was rather boring to eat ice-cream alone in a cafe…

She decided to return to the dorms.

* * *

The dorm rooms that were designed for two students usually housed three, and the rooms for three students housed four. It was the same in almost all the rooms, with very few exceptions.

On her floor, in the men’s half of the building, lived a husband and wife in a two-person room, Yuri Tolokonnikov, a long-haired gorgeous guitar player from Dina’s course, and Luda Zaytseva from the year above. They had gotten married last summer, and in September they were allowed to move into a separate room because they were from out of town, and they also said that they were going to have a baby soon. In actual fact, the academic year was nearly over and there was no sign of a baby or that one was on the way.

Four girls lived in the neighboring room, at least, that’s what it said on the list hanging on their door. Yet Dina had never met any of them except one, Tanya Kharitonova, from the Faculty of Mechanization and Automation. Tanya was rather odd, she could be very engaging and outgoing, or walk around with a dumb half-smile on her face, ignoring everyone. If you greeted her in that moment, she would only glance at you with a vague look and keep floating down the corridor, without saying anything. Sometimes she would lie on her bed and groan loudly, almost scream. The first time that Dina heard those terrifying sounds, she knocked on Tanya’s door, which was unlocked, and saw Tanya in that exact pose: knees under her chin, her arms wrapped around them, and her head swaying from side to side.

“Tanya, what’s wrong?” Dina asked worriedly.

“My period…” Tanya groaned.

“Do you want some Tylenol?”

“No… it won’t help… go away.…”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

Dina only realized what had really happened to Tanya many, many years later.

* * *

Dina’s classmate, Arthur Davlatyan, who came from Armenia, also lived alone in a two-person room. Dina didn’t wonder why he was so lucky – he just was.

Arthur was a generous guy and often had a group of classmates over, to celebrate a completed group project or an exam with tea. He always brought out a bottle of cognac with the tea. Not the usual cognac bottle with the factory cork and the regulation labels, but a large milky-white plastic flask, probably a liter in size. He always had incredibly beautiful and incomparably delicious dried fruits and nuts. Having once tried Arthur’s delicacies, Dina could look with nothing but pity at their pathetic copies, displayed on the shelves of stores like Nature’s Gifts.

Sometimes Arthur invited Dina to his room, to ask for her advice regarding a test or a term paper. Dina conscientiously explained all the hard parts to him, although she knew that it was hopeless since Arthur would never write the paper or project himself, so it was easier to simply write it for him. Which is what she did.

She did not like it one bit. If it had been first year, that would have been one thing, but they were in fourth year, and Arthur still had not completed a single exercise without someone else’s help… How was he going to write his thesis? How was he going to work in this field? If he had to answer at the blackboard or during an oral exam, he muttered something unintelligible, plus his accent made his answer completely incomprehensible. But his record book didn’t have any threes… not that he had any fives either, just fours. Dina was really surprised, as she knew plenty of smarter and more talented guys who the teachers were not so generous with.

“Arthur,” Dina would say emphatically, “Why don’t you study? At least memorize something, even if you don’t understand anything! Fine, I’ll write the paper and the project for you… But you’ll have to get a job in the future, and you don’t know anything, you can’t even tell an acid from a salt by its formula!”

Arthur would only smile with his beautiful Eastern lips and drop his lush eyelashes over his velvet gaze. Then he would take a large packet of mandarins or dried fruit from the cupboard, place it on the table next to Dina and say, “I will not work. I only need diploma. And you will not work. You will live like a queen!”

No, Dina simply could not comprehend that – to go to university but not to study, to get the diploma but not work in the field!

It seemed that Konstantin Kolotozashvili also could not comprehend this – Dina heard rumors that Arthur had to try five times to pass every exam, and that Konstantin Konstantinovich was tortured every semester in the Chancellor’s office, who made him change Arthur’s mark from “Satis.” or “Unsatis.” to “Good.” Then they would send Davlatyan to another teacher to retake the exam, who would then give him a four.

Dina occasionally considered Arthur as a possible partner. Especially as he had paid her special attention since first year, and even invited her to Armenia with him every summer. He told Dina that she would not have pay anything for the trip, that he would buy her the tickets and food, and even new clothes, and that he would take her to sea, whichever one she prefers, the Black Sea or the Caspian Sea…

When Dina told her mother about this, her mom started to actively persuade her daughter to go with Arthur to his homeland. But the Inner Voice, although brief, persistently told her not to go. “Don’t… don’t…” it repeated quietly but very firmly.

Dina never told her mom about Arthur again, and in response to questions about him, said that he had a long-term girlfriend. What if Dina told her mother that Arthur was proposing to marry her in the last year of university, and for her to go to Armenia, where she could live like a queen?

Dina did like Arthur. He was courteous, well-mannered and generous. She liked his appearance too. He was tall, slender, with slightly darker skin, beautiful hands and dark, kind eyes. Once, not so long ago, just before this spring term, Arthur had almost kissed Dina…

She had written him a rough draft of a term paper, and as usual, he had taken something tasty out of the cupboard, placed it on the table, and hugged Dina. Dina stood up from the chair and looked at him in surprise. He took her by the shoulders and brought his face close to hers. He was looking into her eyes, as if asking: May I? If he had not asked, Dina would have been all for it. She had never kissed anyone as an adult. She even got nervous as she waited for the kiss. But he was waiting for her permission, which she did not like. She said, “Don’t, Arthur.”

Arthur dropped his thick eyelashes over his eyes, smiled slightly, and let Dina go.

And Dina had left his room without taking the packet of dried fruit, back to the three-person room where four girls lived.

If Dina became the wife of Arthur Davlatyan, she would live with him in his very non-student-like room with carpets on the floor and the wall, the KVN television set and the Comet tape player. But she was not sure that she loved Arthur. It was one thing to like someone, but love… love was something else completely, Dina was sure of it, so she continued to live in the cramped room with one table for four people.