“Teach,” a low, pleasant baritone was heard from the left. My heart immediately started beating faster. The owner of the voice was not an overly pleasant person. At least that's how he behaved. David Aliev. Group mate. I carefully turned my head in his direction. He leans on the windowsill, folds his arms on his chest, looks at me, smiles predatorily, revealing his even white teeth. — David, did you want something? — I asked, knowing for sure that he didn’t want anything. This has been going on for four months since the beginning of the school year. For three years I didn’t pay attention, except for sometimes sizzling with my blue eyes, but in my fourth year I suddenly decided to communicate. No specifics. But my stupid heart started beating furiously every time he appeared.