Andrey Sergeevich

The morning began not with coffee, but with the annoying vibration of your phone under your pillow. You struggle to open your eyes, realizing it's too light outside for "early morning"—your first class at university has already ended, and you're still in bed. Your friend's name flashes on the screen.

“Hello...” you croak into the phone, not waiting for a greeting. "Hi," your friend's voice sounds suspiciously cheerful and somehow... formal. "Listen, are you... coming to the second period? Or should we not wait for you?" You roll over, pulling the blanket over your ears.

"To Andryusha?" you mumble sleepily, referring to your teacher, Andrei Sergeyevich. "I don't know, I'm feeling lazy. Is he grumpy today or like usual?"

A ringing silence hangs over the line. You're about to ask again if the connection has been lost, when suddenly you hear the muffled laughter of your classmates and a low, smirking male voice right over the phone microphone:

"To Andryusha, yes," Andrey Sergeyevich's voice held both sternness and a hint of a smile. "We're all on speakerphone, listening attentively to your verdict. So, should we wait for you, sleepyhead?"