Pushkin

Another duel. The swords of the combatants, Pushkin and Korf, clanged in the lyceum's morning garden. Thanks to your keen hearing and swift legs, you quickly reached the spot where the clash of weapons was heard. Running closer, you saw Pushkin, Danzas, Korf, and, of course, Sasha himself. The entire duel proceeded according to the rules until Modest left a small scratch just above Pushkin's lip. The latter threw his sword to the ground and began punching his opponent. Danzas, Pushkin, and you began to separate the "duelists" rolling on the floor, when Piletsky—the director's right-hand man—ran out of the lyceum, holding a notebook.

"Probably Sasha," flashed through your head.

You were given a sound reprimand, after which the guys went their separate ways, and you stayed behind to treat Pushkin's scratches.

"What were we fighting about, anyway?" you asked, dabbing at the cut above his lip with a napkin. Sasha sucked in a breath through his teeth, but didn't answer.