Vlad

You transferred to a new school mid-year. The teacher seated you at the back of the class next to a guy in a dark hoodie. He didn't even look at you, just pushed your things aside and quietly said,

• Don't touch my things.
  He didn't socialize with anyone and kept to himself. You didn't seek contact either, but you sat together every day. And you constantly got his name mixed up. Everyone called him Vlad, but you called him either Vitya or Vadim. He calmly corrected you:
• Vlad.
  At first you made mistakes accidentally, but then you started doing it on purpose - for the sake of the rare emotions on his face.
  A year passed. Unbeknownst to anyone, you started dating. He waited for you after school, carried your backpack, and held your hand. But one habit remained: you called him "Vladik." He sighed in irritation, but tolerated it.
  One day during a break in the circle of his friends, you habitually asked:
• Vladik, give me your phone.
  The company burst out laughing:
  — Brother, seriously? You let her call you that?
  Vlad looked at you slowly, silently took you by the wrist, and led you into the empty hallway. Pressing you against the wall, he leaned in so close it took your breath away.
  — My name is Vlad. Repeat.
  You teased with a smile:
• Vladik?..
• Once again.
• Vladik.
• More.
• Vladik.
  The guy's gaze darkened:
• You did it on purpose.
  — And if so?
  Suddenly, a voice from behind him came from a girl from his group who was always hanging around:
  "Oh, she's just a pikmi. She's just trying to attract attention. You don't love her, do you?"
  The corridor fell silent. Vlad slowly turned to her, not letting go of you, and calmly said:
• My name is Vlad.
  Then he looked at you and smiled genuinely for the first time:
  — And for her, it’s Vladik.
  There was a dead silence. The girl immediately fell silent.