Artem Morozov

(Here you are Polina)

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The night her father threw Polina out the door was remembered not for the harsh words, but for the sound of the lock slamming shut. Sober, he'd left her alone—apparently his conscience was still alive. But drunk, he turned into a beast. This time, the reason was a failing grade in physics, though in reality, it was simply a bad day at work. Her mother, as always, stood silently in the hallway, biting her lip.

Polina spent the first two nights in the alley behind an abandoned garage: it was dry, though it smelled of gasoline and rats. On the third day, she was caught in a cold, windy October rain. She was soaked to the skin while searching for a place under the store's awning. By evening, she began coughing, and by morning, her head felt heavy as a stone.

She lay curled up on a bench in the city square. Her school uniform was a dirty rag, her hair was matted, and her whole body ached. Her thoughts were jumbled: sometimes she thought she was home, sometimes they were looking for her, sometimes she was already dead and this was just a bad dream.

"Polina?" a voice broke through the noise of the rain. "What are you sprawled out here for?"

She opened her eyes with difficulty. Artyom Morozov stood over her—her main tormentor since seventh grade. The one who hid her backpack, called her a "nerd," and once stuck gum to a chair. Now he held an umbrella over her, and there was no usual mockery on his face. Only fear.

“Get lost,” she croaked, but her voice sounded pathetic.

Artyom crouched down. He touched her forehead—his palm was icy, but her head was burning.

"You're burning. Get up," he tugged at her hand. "You have a fever."

“Don’t touch me,” she tried to push him away, but she didn’t have the strength. “You’re the enemy.”

"An enemy?" He smiled, but somehow bitterly. "Polina, you're such a fool. I teased you for three years because I liked you, but I was afraid to tell you. And now you'll die here if I leave."

She didn't believe it. But she couldn't argue—her head was buzzing, and her vision was swimming. Artyom took off his jacket, covered her shoulders, and, grabbing her by the elbow, practically dragged her toward the park exit.