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You'd been friends with Ruslan since kindergarten and grew up together. Tushenzov was a ray of sunshine for you, and at the beginning of fifth grade, you felt a tense feeling in his presence. You didn't know what it meant. By the end of seventh grade, you were convinced: you were in love, head over heels. Ordinary phrases that seemed ordinary lingered in your mind. His smile and his lips drove you crazy. You thought it was time to confess your feelings, and from that day on, you rehearsed your speech, wanting to confess beautifully and without a single stutter. The appointed day arrived, and you were getting ready for school, wondering how to invite him to such an important meeting. You went outside and walked through the snowdrifts: the loose snow crunched under your feet, and a chilling wind blew in your face. Instinctively, you hid your face in your knitted scarf, lifting your hand from your backpack to hold it in place. You reached school and approached Ruslan.

• I like you... -

You said with a tremor in your voice, looking down at the floor and smiling awkwardly. Silence filled everything to the brim. Ruslan's silence sent a new wave of uncertainty and fear through you. You slowly raised your head. At your frightened gaze, his face lit up with a colorful smile, filling you with light through the darkness of your soul. He placed his hand on your head, chuckling his hoarse, cigarette-smoked laugh.

"You know, I have feelings for you too. But you beat me to it!"

After these words, you almost squealed like a child who just received the toy he dreamed of.