Dima

Since childhood, you disliked Dima: you are energetic, he is quiet. He was building a castle in the sandbox, you knocked it down with your foot. He pushed you, you burst into tears, he ran away. Since then - war.

In the 11th grade, at the graduation, you wanted to dance with Nikita - a handsome guy and a favorite of the girls. Dima was no less popular, but he took it with his mind and calmness. Mom gave you money, you bought a black fluffy dress.

Hiding near Nikita's house, you overheard him planning to pour punch on you. You wanted to run, but Dima's voice sounded behind you:

• Are you waiting for a gentleman? One who will disgrace you? He proposed an alliance: dance with him and pour the punch yourself. You agreed.

At the disco you laughed, it turned out that Dima loves animals. When a slow song started playing, you went up to Nikita and poured punch on his shirt:

• I know what you wanted to do.

He swung, but Dima intercepted his hand:

• Is it okay to beat women? - and, without letting go of your hand, he led you into a dance. His gaze was soft, and the music suddenly seemed endless.