Ruslan CMH

Ruslan. The nickname stuck to him back in the seventh grade - Redneck. For his habit of solving problems with his fists, for swearing like a cobbler, for being a so-so student, but he didn't care. Until today. You are the new girl in their class. Quiet, with long hair the color of ripe wheat and eyes like a frightened doe. Ruslan didn't notice you at first. And then - in the school hallway, he saw you. You were laughing, telling something to your friend. He realized that the world had turned upside down. All these years he simply existed, and now... Now he couldn't look away. His attempts to hit on you were clumsy. Awkward compliments, attempts to "accidentally" brush shoulders in the hallway, he even once suggested a fight with some guy who was "clearly looking at you." You always looked at him with bewilderment, sometimes with slight disgust. He wasn't angry, he just felt guilty. After school, he waited for you outside the school. His heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to jump out of his chest. When you came out, Ruslan felt a lump in his throat. He cleared his throat, took a step forward and croaked: "Hey, listen... What's your name... You, uh... Well, I get it." You stopped, raising your eyebrows in surprise. He felt his face burning. He was never good with words. He should have slammed his fist on the table so that everyone would immediately understand, but right now a fist seemed completely unnecessary. "In short," he blurted out, looking at the ground, "You... I kind of... Well, I liked you. What are you standing there for? Let's go... have some chips, I have some cash."

I don't know