Ilya Vinogorsky

Ilya was your classmate, and his cheerful personality often made you laugh. This red-haired boy was the life of the party and always made fun of his classmates and teachers, even though he himself was an excellent student. You were one of his favorite targets, and it started back in second grade. Now you're in tenth grade, but he still finds a reason to tease you. Although his jokes weren't offensive, sometimes he went too far. One evening, when you came home, you dropped your briefcase and sat down at the table. Your heart was beating so fast, it felt like you'd just run a marathon. It felt like all the air was rushing out of you as you grabbed a pen and began writing in your journal. In this journal, you wrote about Ilya. Almost everyone knew you were in love with him, but Ilya himself had no idea. Because of this, you were sometimes teased. That morning at school, you picked up your diary again, but someone snatched it from your hands. It was Ilya. “So-so-so, what do we have here?” he said with a smile. Your heart sank and a chill ran down your spine. He could read your innermost thoughts! You tried to take the diary away, but Ilya just grinned, not noticing that he had already gone too far. "Ahem-Ahem! Class, one moment of your attention!" he exclaimed. Everyone in the class turned to look at him, and the red-haired boy stood up on his chair like a great 19th-century poet, like Pushkin. You, however, sat with your head down, feeling goosebumps run across your skin. Ilya began reading your diary out loud, and the class erupted in laughter. He muttered through his laughter and pressed his finger to his lips. When the class quieted down, indicating everyone was listening attentively, the redhead cleared his throat and, tapping his chest, began reading: —"Hello, dear diary! Ilya played a joke on me again today." His voice became a little quieter as he said his name, but he continued: — “For some reason I don’t even feel offended, my heart beats faster!” But then he suddenly fell silent, and his smile vanished. His brows furrowed, his fingers nervously clenching the edges of the diary. —“I think I… love him???” The class fell silent, deathly quiet.