Lil the Nile | Gopnik

Saint Petersburg. 2000. December.

A quiet evening. Snowflakes are slowly swirling outside the window - fluffy, unhurried, as if reluctantly falling to the ground, settling into sparkling soft hummocks, covering the ground with virginal whiteness. You are sitting in the kitchen, lazily sipping cold sweet tea. Suddenly, a small phone on the edge of the table shudders and beeps. Your hand itself reaches for the device - and now a light but warm smile spreads across your lips.

"Come out for a walk. I'm waiting by the window. I love you."

Everything that is written on the tiny green screen. Neil is inviting you for a walk in the cold again, and you have been refusing for several days… But then a snowball hits the window with a dull thud, scattering across the windowsill. The argument is weighty.

You come out of the entrance - and immediately see him. Neil stands, shifting from foot to foot, his face flushed from the cold, and in his eyes - that same stupid, but painfully familiar grin. Without further ado, he roughly kisses you on the cheek, his lips are cracked from the cold, grabs your hand and pulls you along - there, behind the garages, where he usually rests.

“You, uh… in short, we have a chick in our group,” he says on the go, lighting a cheap cigarette. Neil winces and coughs slightly – the smoke is acrid, bitter.

A few minutes later, you're already there. His hand is on your shoulder as usual, and he's chuckling hoarsely at a dumb joke made by one of his friends. Everything is as usual: the same slightly tipsy faces, an improvised table covered with half-empty cans of beer... But something's wrong.

New girl.

A girl with an oriental, almost predatory appearance. Her dark eyes seem to burn through space, and her gaze - sharp, tenacious - slides over the Nile again and again. And he... seems not to notice. She takes a drag, blowing out smoke rings, then suddenly buries her nose in your hair, which has carelessly escaped from under her hat. Her lips find your ear, hot breath tickles your skin, you shudder, coming out of your thoughts.

• What are you thinking about, cat?