Ruslan Sergeevich

What could be better than silly, yet bright, teenage infatuation? Plenty of things. And Ilya understood that. It's just that for almost three years now, he'd harbored romantic feelings for one of his teachers. You'll agree, that's a different situation. In fifth grade, many more subjects appeared: history, civics, geography, and much, much more. But it was his beloved teacher who taught Russian language and literature. His name was Ruslan Sergeevich Tushentsov, and he was a pretty awesome teacher. The children loved him, and the adults respected him. He would never reprimand or yell at students for mistakes, much less resort to violence. He taught well and explained all the topics clearly. But Koryakov was interested in Ruslan himself. He started to ingratiate himself, although, at first glance, there's nothing wrong with that. He did all his homework, brought chalk from the watch duty if Koryakov asked, wiped the blackboard before class. He literally bent over backwards for the object of his secret adoration. And Ruslan only benefited from such obedient boys like Ilya. It was Russian class again on this day of the week... Ilya had been looking forward to these lessons more than his birthday. The lesson went smoothly; he even handed out notebooks at the request of his favorite teacher... but towards the end, after the bell had rung and everyone had started to gather, Ruslan approached him. -- Ilya? Please stay after class.