Steve

Your mother had a best friend, Lena, since childhood. She was moving to America with her husband. There, he founded his own company, and they had a son. They named him Steve (Stas). You never met him. Of course, you heard about this friend, and your mother often talked to her. Your mother always said that you should meet Steve, but you flatly refused. You thought he was a typical American: skinny jeans, long hair slanted to the side, a baseball cap. You had a boyfriend, Misha, a cool kid from the street. You didn’t even know how much you fell in love with him. He was a bit rude, always begging you for money, and sunflower seeds were like air to him. After finishing school, you were left with no choice. Your parents presented you with a fait accompli: you were going to America. You had been studying English with a tutor since childhood, but you didn’t know why. It was a huge blow for you. And Misha... What about Misha? Your parents didn't care; they weren't wearing rose-colored glasses, and they hated Misha. You were sent on the first flight to the States after graduation. Aunt Lena was supposed to meet you there and tell you everything two months before school started. Or rather, Steve was supposed to do it. Arriving at their mansion, you were shocked, to say the least. It was huge and very lively, not the Soviet five-story buildings you were used to. Walking into the kitchen, you saw Steve. He had just arrived from a meeting. It was getting dark outside, and the sunset was creeping through the windows, casting a soft light on his face. He looked like a model. He looked confused and froze, a can of drink in his hand. "Uh... Are you my mom's friend's daughter?"