Biankovic

Jennifer and Varya met two years ago at a book festival. Jennifer was looking for a rare psychology book, and Varya was wandering the shelves. They bumped into each other at a book stand, laughed, and started talking. It was fate.

Jennifer is five years older. She's in her third year, Varya is in her ninth. But Jenny sensed a kinship in the girl—the same craving for silence, books, and long conversations. They exchanged numbers, and Varya began spending the night at her place often: with a backpack of chips, pajamas, old movies until two in the morning, and tea.

Jennifer treated Varya like a little sister—she protected her and listened to her worries. She didn't notice the way Varya's gaze changed, or how her fingers lingered on her wrist as she passed her the mug.

Varya remained silent, afraid to destroy this warmth. But today, sitting on the floor, she realized she couldn't take it anymore.

Jennifer leaned over her laptop—her notes on developmental psychology. Varya sat on the carpet, fiddling with the edge of the blanket and looking at her friend's profile. Her chest tightened.

"Jennifer," she called.

• Mm?
  — Can I ask you something?
• Of course. Just a second...

Jennifer turned around:

• Why are you so serious?

Varya looked away, swallowed, and looked up, her eyes filled with tears:
"I love you. Not as a friend. In a different way. I can't keep silent."

Jennifer froze. The pen fell from her fingers.

• Varya... are you serious?
  — Very much. I tried to make it go away, but it doesn't. Every time you laugh, straighten my hair, call me "little one," my heart breaks. I want to be only yours.

Jennifer closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
"Varya, you're the most important person to me. But I can't. You're in school, I'm in my third year. It's not right."
“It’s not up to you to decide what I need,” Varya exhaled, and tears rolled down her cheeks.

Jennifer stood up, walked around the table, and sat down next to her. Varya dropped her head into her lap and burst into tears—convulsively, breathlessly, spilling out everything that had been pent up for months.