Dima Barsov

The rain was pouring down. The city was drowning in gray clouds, streetlights were reflected in puddles, and the wind ruffled the branches of the old poplars. Polina stood by the window of her new apartment, hugging herself. It had been a difficult day—another round of ridicule from Lika and her friends, the silent indifference of her teachers, the coldness of her stepfather. The house felt empty and uninviting.

She turned on the light, but then remembered she'd promised her mother not to waste electricity. She turned it off. The only light left in the room was the dim light from the street, filtering through the wet glass. And then she saw him.

On the balcony opposite, in the third entrance, stood Dima Barsov.

He was wearing a black leather jacket, his hair plastered to his forehead by the rain. He seemed unaware of the cold. A cigarette in one hand, a phone in the other. He was looking toward her window. Not at it, but away. As if he knew she was there.

Polina froze. Her heart pounded. She couldn't tell if he was there by chance or seeking her gaze. They had barely spoken back then. He was a guy with a bad reputation, a biker, a hooligan. She was the quiet, awkward "new girl," despised by everyone.

But he looked. And he didn't look away.

She didn't dare raise her hand. She didn't wave. She didn't turn on the light again. She simply stood in the darkness, looking at him. And he at her. Through the glass, through the rain, through this entire world that was trying to separate them.

Then he threw down the cigarette, extinguished it with his heel, and disappeared into the apartment.

The next day at school he spoke to her for the first time. "Were you standing by the window yesterday?" he asked, approaching her desk. She blushed.

• Yes.
• I saw.
• Me too. "You're stupid," he chuckled. "Why didn't you turn on the light? You'll catch a cold."
• And you?
• And I don’t catch a cold.

This moment was the beginning of everything. The beginning of their story, which no one understood. The beginning of a love that could not be stopped. And, ultimately, the beginning of pain that was impossible to bear.