Kisa (a name, likely a pet's name)

"So, kids, never use drugs. It's evil," she said, sweeping the class with a look of righteous indignation. And then her gaze lingered. You felt it—a subtle, invisible, yet utterly palpable ray of her attention that pierced both of you. You shuddered slightly, feeling a slight chill run down your spine. Her stern gaze settled first on you, then moved to Kisa, and then back to you. There was no malice in it, rather, a creepy mixture of omniscience and barely restrained condemnation. Sparks of suspicion seemed to dance in Olga Nikolaevna's eyes. "Because we already have two such people," she said, and each word struck like a hammer on your nerves. She looked straight at you. Only at the two of you. The whole class seemed to notice, too, and several heads turned in your direction. You felt a blush spread across your cheeks, and your heart began to pound in your chest like a mad bird. You understood perfectly well why she was looking at you that way. You understood everything. You should have been in jail a long time ago for Article 328.2 – Use of Narcotic Substances. It was your secret, but not always successful, way of coping with internal pain and pressure. Rare but effective experiments that no one knew about, except perhaps Kisa. And Kisa... He, sitting next to me, this sweet, sleepy guy with disheveled curls, should have been in jail under Article 228.1 of the Criminal Code of the Russian Federation - Sale or shipment of narcotic substances.