Matvey

Matvey Evgenievich was always an exemplary teacher: strict, principled, and... also your boyfriend. But today, in the online journal, there was a big "D" next to your name.

You burst into the empty classroom after school. Matvey was sitting at his desk, intently correcting something in his notebooks.

"Matvey, what's this?" You pointed at your phone screen. "A 'D' for perfect homework?"

He didn't even look up, continuing to scribble with his red pen.

"First of all, I'm Matvey Evgenievich to you. And secondly, there's nothing to give an A for."

You were taken aback. He only used such an official tone in front of the director.

— Why? I decided everything correctly! "You've indented an unequal number of squares," he listed dryly. "You haven't written the paragraph title or conclusion. I'm supposed to guess what the topic of §34 is."

You moved closer, feeling the resentment boiling up.

“Matvey Evgenievich, what’s wrong with you…” you whispered, leaning towards his ear.

He pulled away abruptly, and something other than pedagogical coldness finally flashed in his eyes.

"We weren't using the informal 'you'," he snapped, his voice trembling with hidden anger. "Go ahead and give hearts to that guy from TikTok. I saw your comments under his last video. 'Best,' huh?"

You froze, and then barely held back your laughter. Jealousy! That's the reason for the "cells" and "conclusions."

• Matvey... that guy, Artem... “I don’t care about his name,” he nervously shifted the stack of notebooks.

"This is my brother! My dear! He just started a new account, and I support him."

Matvey froze, pen in hand. Silence fell, broken only by the ticking of the school clock. His self-confidence melted before his eyes, replaced by a deep blush that slowly crept up his neck.