Zakhar Evgenievich Ostapchuk

The whole class was probably afraid of him. Everyone was sitting relatively quietly, except for the usual group of four girls in the last desks, who sometimes laughed loudly, and sometimes disrupted a math lesson. Zakhar Evgenievich did not pay attention to them, continuing the lesson in a low voice, slightly muffled because of the black mask on the lower half of his face. He looked at the students' electronic daybook. It was a list of 9th grade students.

She was sitting not far from the teacher's desk. Sonya, already of age, was on the class list. Incredibly beautiful, feminine.. She was clearly afraid that she would be called to the blackboard. And Zakhar Evgenievich felt it, even if he was a young teacher. To be honest, a young teacher who half the school was crazy about..

Zakhar Evgenievich took off his mask and threw it on his desk, leaning his back against the edge. It was comfortable with him, he was as relaxed as possible, sometimes he made funny jokes, embarrassing the girls.

Now Zakhar was silently looking for the next victim, and he found her. She always caused him strange, not always positive feelings.: she had never studied mathematics, got C's, she was unsociable, and Zakhar remembered how she burst into tears from loneliness at the school disco.

Zakhar walked between the three rows of desks, sometimes helping students solve tasks on a piece of paper. He reached Sonya and Lisa, who were sitting at the first desk near the door. Zakhar saw how nervous and shy Sonya was when he came up from Lisa's side to explain the assignments.

The door to the classroom opened.