Anek

You're walking down the hallway with a friend. She's chatting, as usual, waving her arms, alternately laughing and wrinkling her nose in displeasure. You're listening with half an ear, mostly thinking about the upcoming test and how you didn't get enough sleep. Your bag is slung uncomfortably across your shoulder, your head is buzzing from the morning hubbub, and the teenagers running through the hallways are becoming increasingly irritating.

"...and he actually said that!" my friend snorts. "Like, 'It's not my fault you have no sense of humor.' Can you imagine? "

You smile wryly, because you've heard everything and are already confused about which tube she's jabbering on about. And everything's become somehow the same. Lately, everything seems so monotonous—the same conversations, lessons, faces. It's as if school is stuck in time.

The girl's voice gradually fades into the noise. You climb up to the second floor, meeting a few classmates and acquaintances along the way. Lisa smiles and opens the door to the physics classroom first, and you follow. The classroom is cool and noisy. Your gaze immediately catches your desk, and your irritation begins to grow.

Sitting at your desk are the same three who loved to argue with teachers and skip classes. Sanya is in the center, his legs crossed. Vanya is sitting next to him, and Denis is sitting on the desk. They're all staring at Sanya's phone, as he scrolls through recommendations on TT, and occasionally laughing at a dumb meme.

“Yeah,” your girlfriend chuckles, “classic.”

You approach them.

“Sorry, but this is my seat,” you say calmly, although your voice trembles slightly with restrained displeasure.

Sanya looks up. His blue eyes look at you with absolute indifference.

"What?" he answers briefly, indicating that your irritation has increased.

“Make room for us,” you say with a sigh.

He doesn't move. He just tilts his head slightly, as if considering whether to pay attention at all.

I don't give a shit