The Lovers

Yes, she liked Konstantin Konstantinovich.

Not only as an outstanding teacher: even the less diligent students left his classes, be they lectures or seminars, with much reluctance.

Not only because of his captivating appearance. Despite his eye-catching looks, there was something elusive in his manner, like patina on the surface of polished silver, which gave this external glimmer a hint of nobility.

It was not only Konstantin Konstantinovich’s sense of humor that Dina liked: if he was telling an anecdote or making a joke, it was a clever and subtle one, and he never allowed himself any slimy ambiguity that some of the other teachers employed in the hope of being treated as “one of the boys” by the students.

It was not only his erudition, which he did not use to show off but strictly for its intended purpose, to expand his students’ horizons.

Dina liked Konstantin Konstantinovich. Yet she would have never thought of dreaming about him as a close friend. Even more so, as a man.

Then why was she here? She had been invited to the movies. She had been invited on a date for the first time in her life. Not just by anyone, not a classmate or even an older student.

What if it was a joke? Perhaps he invited her and was now watching from some hiding place to see if she would come, like a complete bimbo. Or he decided to have a little fun: I’ll go with an ugly girl to the movies for a change, and she’ll think that I’m in love with her…

“Whatever it may be, I’ve come tonight,” thought Dina, glanced at her watch again and resolutely left the vestibule.

* * *

Dina saw Konstantin Konstantinovich almost immediately. He stood apart from the crowd that milled around the ticket office and the entrance to the cinema. More precisely, he was walking back and forth, glancing around him. One could even say that he was glancing around nervously or perhaps eagerly.

He noticed Dina when she was about ten steps away, and immediately walked forward to meet her.

Konstantin Konstantinovich moved so eagerly in Dina’s direction that they nearly collided. Dina had to stop suddenly to prevent this.

“So punctual!” Konstantin Konstantinovich said excitedly, stretching his hand out to Dina. “You ought to have delayed for five to ten minutes longer.”

Dina also extended her hand, which he shook jerkily but firmly.

“You think so? Why?” She asked, staring at Konstantin Konstantinovich with unfeigned surprise.

“Well,” he smiled in mild embarrassment, “to make me worry a little about whether you were coming or not.”

“I shall have to disappoint you, Konstantin Konstantinovich, but that is not my style.”

“How interesting.” He looked at Dina seriously, but the embarrassment and fluster remained, barely hidden by his smile. “Could we continue with this topic after a short discussion regarding a burning question?”

“I’m listening,” said Dina.

“We can go to the movies, or we can go to the cafe. Hmm… We can also go to the movies and then the cafe.”

“The third option, if you don’t mind.”

Konstantin Konstantinovich laughed and looked at his student even more carefully. He took the tickets out of his chest pocket and taking Dina smoothly under his arm, headed to the entrance.

“We have ten minutes to go to the snack bar. Would you like anything to eat?” he asked.

“No, thank you, I’m full,” replied Dina. “But if you’d like…”

Konstantin Konstantinovich smiled. “I’m full too. Besides, we have dinner waiting for us afterwards. You have nothing against the Rainbow?”

“No, nothing,” said Dina.

What else could she have said? Students like Dina, who lived on a study allowance, did not frequent cafes and restaurants, unless it was for someone’s birthday when they all chipped in, or for a classmate’s wedding, which were occurring more and more often towards the end of university.

They walked to their seats at the very center of the room. Konstantin Konstantinovich pulled down the seat for Dina and sat down himself. He sat, almost facing Dina, and looked at her with a smile.

“So, we had stopped on your style. You believe that a woman must be punctual and true to her word?”

“I believe that everyone should be punctual and true to their word,” replied Dina, staring straight ahead.

She observed the people passing by, the new, painted curtain that had replaced the old plush fabric, and the stylish lamps, for the cinema had reopened only recently after renovations.

“How about female weaknesses and foibles?” Persisted Konstantin Konstantinovich.

“Well, to each his own, I guess.”

“You don’t like it.”

“No, I don’t.”

“What do you like, then?”

“Me? Naturalness.”

“And directness.”

“And directness.”

“So, is it possible to live like this?”

“Yes.”

“Isn’t it difficult?”

“On the contrary, it’s very easy.”

“Really?” her teacher asked, still smiling.

Then the lights grew dimmer, and the noise from spectators, getting comfortable and hurrying to find their seat, grew louder. Dina’s companion leaned close to her ear and whispered:

“You have roused my curiosity. May we continue this conversation later?”

Dina turned towards him. The cinema screen began to glow. Her teacher’s face was very close in the gathering darkness and looked especially striking – the symmetrical, strong facial features were emphasized by the light falling from one side and reflecting in his eyes, as well as the very attentive but gentle and thrilling gaze, and the slightly parted, smiling lips.

“We may,” said Dina and turned back to the screen, but she could see Konstantin Konstantinovich watching her, out of the corner of her eye.

She calmly met his gaze. He smiled again, then turned to face the screen.