Gamer

Meeting the Parents

“Do we really have to?” I asked again, already knowing the answer.

That afternoon, we walked toward her house, and I grew more nervous with every step. At sixteen, you don’t meet a girl’s parents every day. Especially when you haven’t even properly told her you love her yet.

“No turning back now!” Inna gave me a firm push between the shoulders. She’d apparently realized I might not make it there of my own free will.

“Oh, look, my bus stop! And here’s a bus!” I tried to turn it into a joke.

“Andrey, seriously?” Inna frowned a little. I had the feeling she was about to stop trying to persuade me and get upset instead.

I couldn’t let that happen.

“No, Inna, I’m kidding! I just feel like a fish out of water, so I’m trying to joke my way through it.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll find you a nice bowl!”

“You little troublemaker!” I said, trying to tickle her.

She laughed and fought me off. In the scuffle, my hand caught her somewhere it shouldn’t. I pulled it away at once, and we both froze.

“Enjoy that?” she asked seriously, almost accusingly. I already felt ashamed and embarrassed by the clumsy accident.

“Inna, I… It was an accident…” I couldn’t put any more words together. All I knew was that my cheeks were burning.

“Meet my parents first. Then you can start getting fresh!” she said so sternly that it took me a moment to notice her smile.

Once I realized she was joking, I could finally breathe. Inna laughed, and I joined in. When we’d calmed down a little, we walked on.

“For you, I’d meet every parent in town!” I boasted.

“Just mine will do for now!” Inna turned serious. “But don’t worry. We’ll find you some more motivation!”

She started laughing again. This time, I wasn’t laughing. I wanted to find that motivation. Besides, the joking was over as far as I was concerned: we’d reached her gate. It was an ordinary wooden house with a small vegetable garden in the yard. The fence around the property was about eight inches taller than me. Inna’s father was waiting in the yard.

“Nikolai Stepanovich!” her dad said, holding out his hand.

He was a man of average height, wearing a striped sailor’s shirt and old sweatpants. His dark hair was going gray, and his beard had been left to grow a little untidily. He’d probably been working in the vegetable garden before we arrived. Something about him reminded me of a truck driver in an old Russian movie.

“Andrey!” I shook his hand and stood there, not knowing what to do with my smile.

“Come on inside. Lyuda’s got everything ready,” Nikolai Stepanovich said, ushering us in.

I was a little embarrassed that they’d prepared for my visit. You didn’t go to all this trouble to meet an ordinary friend. It suggested a long conversation, and I wasn’t ready for one.

“Mom, this is Andrey. Andrey, this is Lyudmila Zakharovna.”

In my confusion, I held out my hand. Lyudmila Zakharovna shook it as though that were exactly what I was supposed to do. She wore a formal dress, her curly, dark-blond hair neatly styled. A little girl peeked out from behind her.

“And this is Alina!” Inna smiled at the child and picked her up. Alina looked at me for a few seconds, then clung to her sister and buried her face in her shoulder, making it clear to the family that she was scared of me.

I was no good with children. The moment I was left alone with one, the conversation died. I never knew what to ask or what to play. Luckily, nobody expected me to do that now.

We sat down at the table. Inna showed me my place. Apparently they’d planned that part too. As we settled in, the head of the household appeared, now wearing black pants and a gray T-shirt. The gardening clothes were gone.

The table was set with a tea service for four, plates of candy, spiced cookies, and sweet rolls. Lyudmila Zakharovna brought in a hot pie. Everything in the kitchen was simple and somehow solid: the dishes, the curtains, the table itself. I thought of Inna’s dresses and realized how perfectly they belonged here. As her parents took their seats, we exchanged glances and tried to smile as if nothing special were happening.

“Well, tell us! How’s school?” her mother asked as she settled Alina into her high chair.

I hadn’t expected that question. I hadn’t expected any questions. But Inna quickly took over, explaining that we were doing well. Her parents already knew that about her. As for me, she’d stretched the truth a little.

“…So, good overall. The exams are coming up, so we’re spending more time preparing for those…”

“And you, Andrey? What do you think about the exams? Will you two manage?” Inna’s mother turned to me. The whole family waited for my answer. Even the child seemed to have gone still.

“I don’t think they’ll be hard! Ninth-grade exams are just a formality. It’s the ones at the end of eleventh grade you have to worry about!” I tried to sound confident, and for a moment I thought I’d pulled it off.

At school, they were always threatening us with not getting our certificates. I didn’t really believe them. I thought they’d give us passing threes out of five anyway. The final exams after eleventh grade were another matter. Luckily, those were still a long way off.

“Your homeroom teacher certainly likes to frighten us. She says we need to keep an eye on you and make you spend more time studying!”

Her mother did most of the talking. Her father was probably saving up the more serious questions while his wife tried to draw us out and put us at ease.

“They get a salary bonus for good results, so of course they’re trying. In reality, everyone will pass. Obviously, I’d like straight fives, but I won’t be upset if I get a three!” I declared, somewhat disappointing Inna’s parents, who surely wanted nothing but top grades for their daughter.

“How long have you been friends?” her mother went on.

I knew the more interesting questions were about to start.

“Since elementary school. The teachers always used to put us together. I told you!” Inna fielded that one flawlessly.

“And are you just friends, or something more…?” her father cut in. He clearly wanted to know and seemed to have been waiting for the right moment to ask.

“Daaaad!” Inna said, turning visibly red.

I didn’t know what to say either. If they’d asked me, I’d probably have called us friends. I hadn’t found the courage to go any further. But Inna looked so embarrassed that I suddenly wondered whether I understood our relationship at all.

“What do you mean, ‘Dad’? I want to know what sort of relationship my daughter is in! Am I not allowed to ask anymore?” Nikolai Stepanovich said cheerfully, looking at Inna.

This time, I couldn’t get the word “relationship” out of my head. I felt as if there was something I didn’t know.

“Stop embarrassing the children!” Lyudmila Zakharovna said with exaggerated cheerfulness, and everyone smiled.

After that, things got easier. We talked about school, then the town and one or two things around the house. Inna’s parents turned out to be warm, friendly people. I stopped monitoring every word I said and even dared to take a second piece of pie.

When Alina started falling asleep, I realized our visit was drawing to a close and I ought to leave. They needed quiet in the house. Lyudmila Zakharovna suggested I stay and sit with Inna in her room, but I took it as a polite gesture and tactfully declined. We said goodbye to her parents, and Inna went to see me out.

“That went great, and you were so worried!” she said, unlocking the door.

“Yeah. Your parents are really nice!” I said. A smile appeared on Inna’s face. She was pleased by the compliment.

“We’ll meet yours next!” she said automatically, then immediately realized she’d touched a sore spot and apologized.

I knew she hadn’t meant anything by it, so I didn’t take it personally.

“Mission accomplished!” I winked, making her laugh.

She reached up to hug me goodbye, no longer worried that her parents might see. I put my arms around her too.

“Just make it quick!” Inna whispered seriously.

“But I… Um… Your parents are right here…” I floundered. The remark had left me completely at a loss again.

“I’m joking, silly!” She wriggled out of my arms and laughed softly.

I was bewildered, but managed a smile anyway. We said goodbye, agreeing to meet that evening, talk about her parents’ reaction, and walk up to the bluff.

All the way home, I thought about the visit, about Inna, her bold jokes, our relationship. I had to ask her to be my girlfriend!

Disaster

“Home?” Inna asked when the bell rang.

Our classmates were already disappearing through the door. First out were usually the ones who never thought to double-check whether everything was in their bags. The tidy ones stayed behind, stacking textbooks and closing pencil cases. To me, owning a pencil case was a sign that you took school seriously. Some kids couldn’t even find a pen, while these people had a whole supply, sorted by color.

“Home!” I said.

We weren’t the last to leave, but we didn’t rush. We still had the coat check ahead of us. Rain had been forecast that morning, so everyone had come in jackets, and a hundred people were already crowded around the counter. Some chatted; others passed their numbered tags forward to get their coats sooner. At first people shouted at the kids cutting in line, but eventually everyone got used to it. Inna and I stood in silence, exchanging glances, as though any conversation might give us away completely.

A loose thread stuck out of my shirt pocket. I hadn’t bothered with it, but it clearly bothered Inna. Spotting a lighter in an older boy’s hand, she snatched it, quickly singed the thread, pressed the burned end flat with her finger, and handed it back. He didn’t even have time to protest. She gave him a smile of thanks and turned back to me. Sometimes she did things that made it hard to recognize the quiet girl who shared my desk. I liked that boldness. We hadn’t actually agreed we were going out, but if anyone asked whether I had a girlfriend, I said yes. I hoped Inna wouldn’t object.

Our relationship felt as though it was about to begin. I’d thought over and over about kissing her and making it official, but whenever the perfect moment came, I lost my nerve and put it off. We were both spending less time at our computers now. Only Inna’s plans included studying as well as our evening walks. I left education out of my schedule. It didn’t interest me.

At last we collected our jackets and left school. Inna walked beside me, lost in thought. I waited for her to speak. She wasn’t in a hurry.

“You know, Inna, I’m on a real streak in Counter-Strike. Twenty-seven wins in a row. I really want to make it to fifty. Think I can?” I said.

Starting a conversation was always hard. When I was nervous, I often fell back on lines like that, and after a while we’d settle back into each other’s company and be able to talk about anything.

The rumors had been going around for ages: together at school, together after class, together on our walks. And the more confidently our classmates called us a couple, the harder it became just to start talking.

Inna didn’t answer. She turned away from our usual route, and I followed. We used to part at my bus stop. More and more often now, I walked her all the way home, then walked back to mine. It took longer, but the bus money stayed in my pocket.

“Well, I know you’re not that interested. I just wanted to show off a little…” I said, wondering if she found me boring and hunting for another subject. “Look at all that smoke over there!” I pointed.

Thick, dark smoke was rising above the roofs. Nothing like smoke from a stove. Old wooden houses caught fire in our town from time to time, and I assumed another one was burning somewhere over there. Inna looked that way, then back at me, and stopped.

“Andrey, tell me honestly. Do you like me?” This was a serious question.

It felt like a slap. I caught my breath, my heart beat faster, and I grew flustered and red. The answer had always been yes. But Inna wasn’t supposed to be the one asking.

“Yes. A lot!” I said timidly, waiting for her reaction.

She lowered her head. I waited. A few seconds later, she looked into my eyes again.

“I like you too!” she said, and everything inside me seemed to tangle up.

I was happy, then immediately frightened. I probably had to do something now. Kiss her? What if that wasn’t what she wanted? Nothing like this had ever happened to me. I didn’t have an answer ready.

“I’ve wanted to… you know… tell you for ages, only somehow…” I stammered, unable to say anything coherent.

I tried to explain that I’d wanted to tell her for a long time but had been afraid of ruining our friendship. While I searched for the words, Inna stepped closer and kissed me. Now I had something else to worry about: what if she immediately realized I didn’t know how? The kiss was brief and awkward. But I remembered it better than anything we’d talked about before it.

When we drew apart, Inna hugged me tight. One of the studious girls from our class walked past, saw us, and smiled. Then she caught our eyes, faced forward, stared at the sidewalk, and hurried on. Inna laughed.

“Now the rumors have an eyewitness!” she said, loosening her arms a little.

Inna was smiling. I’d already found something new to worry about.

“Inna, I don’t know how to kiss. But I’ll learn!” I promised, for some reason, as if that were what she’d been waiting to hear.

“Only if you practice on me! And tomorrow’s Sunday…” she added. All my doubts and fears vanished.

I knew I’d chosen the right girl, and I held her close. I felt her against me, breathed in her scent, felt her hands on me. It was so good I never wanted to let go.

“Now the rumors really won’t leave us alone!” Inna said, spotting our math teacher.

The teacher walked past and smiled at us. I let Inna go, but for some reason I wasn’t embarrassed anymore. I looked into her eyes again and leaned closer. This time we leaned in almost at the same moment.

“Getting better. But we’ll keep practicing!” she said with mock seriousness, and we set off for home.

As we walked, her fingers brushed mine. I took her hand. Now we were walking like a real couple, and I kept wanting to look at her.

“The way you talk about kissing… have you kissed anyone before?” I asked out of curiosity, not realizing the question might hurt.

“Yes!” she said. I felt a little wounded. I pictured her kissing someone else, and for a moment it made me feel sick.

Inna noticed my expression. Her smile broadened until she couldn’t help giggling.

“You, a couple of minutes ago! Nobody else! I’ve just seen how people do it in movies!” she said brightly, looking at me.

My spirits lifted. I felt a rush of energy and put it into a kiss. This time it was a grown-up kiss. Carried away, I even put my hands on her lower back and pulled her toward me. Inna was a little surprised, but she didn’t resist.

“Now that was serious!” she said, sounding a little astonished.

I was happy I’d managed it. Nothing ahead seemed impossible now. I had everything I loved, and I didn’t want anything to change.

We walked and told each other stories as usual, talking about this and that. Only now it was different. Every so often, one of us would try to steal even a moment for a hug and a kiss. I thought that if life had a save function, so you could go back and start again when things went wrong, this was the moment I’d save. For probably the first time, I wasn’t thinking about Counter-Strike after school.

When we turned onto Inna’s street, we noticed the smoke again. I bounded up to her and kissed her, but she grew serious, trying to make out where it was coming from. I saw the strange look on her face and turned the same way.

“It’s still smoking. Though I think they’ve put it out. It’s not as black as it was,” I said. She didn’t answer.

Inna stood like that for a few seconds longer, then suddenly ran, almost straight into the path of a passing car.

“Wait! Where are you going?” I shouted. Then I realized the smoke was coming from right where her house stood.

The street divided the neighborhood in two: apartment blocks on one side, single-family homes on the other. Around the first intersections stood some very old wooden cottages, then the sturdier timber houses built in the seventies. Inna lived in one of those. The newer brick houses began farther on.

The smoke was rising from roughly that spot. I still hoped I was wrong, but Inna knew her street better than I did. I didn’t catch up with her until she reached the charred fence. It was her house that had burned.

“Move along, kids. Nothing to see here!” a firefighter said.

He blocked our way. Inna didn’t answer. She just stared at what was left of the house. Her parents had been home today: her mother with Alina, her father off work for the weekend. I remembered almost at the same time she did.

“She lives here. Lived here, I mean. Or whatever you’re supposed to say…” I explained.

The firefighter went over to another man, who said something into his radio.

“Yes, that’s her. Their older girl…” came a voice from around the corner.

It was a neighbor. She was walking with a police officer and pointing at Inna.

“Are you Inna?” the officer asked sternly, a notebook in his hand.

She said nothing.

“Yes, that’s her,” I answered for my girlfriend, looking at the officer.

“Then you’ll have to come with us!” he told Inna. When she didn’t react, he grabbed her roughly by the arm and led her toward the car.

“Hey! What are you doing?” I protested, shoving him.

“And who the hell are you?” He turned toward me, irritation on his face.

“I’m her friend!” I said firmly, stepping beside her.

The officer came right up to me, seized me by the throat, and pinned me against the fence. I tried to breathe and couldn’t.

“You can go… Yeah, you heard me. One more word and I’ll slip some weed in your pocket and arrest you with these same witnesses watching. Understand?” His voice was low, almost calm.

When my vision began to darken, he let go and dragged Inna toward the car. I sank to my knees, gasping. My legs wouldn’t hold me. Inna looked back for a moment, but I couldn’t tell whether she saw me. The door slammed shut. A woman I didn’t know got into the car with her.

I wanted to call Dad and had already taken out my phone when I saw people carrying black bags toward a vehicle. One stopped to adjust his load, and a small white hand with a smear of soot appeared through the unzipped edge. Alina. I didn’t know for certain, but in that moment I was sure. The phone slipped from my fingers. I doubled over and vomited. When I could finally lift my head, the neighbor was standing beside me.

“Are you feeling sick?” she asked, bending down to look at me.

I glanced around and got to my feet, putting the phone in my pocket.

“I’m okay. Do you know where they took Inna?” I asked, pointing to where the police car had been a moment earlier.

“Where do you think? The children’s home! Her parents are over there… Well, you understand. Then child welfare will take over, all that sort of thing. You know…”

Strangely enough, I did. I nodded goodbye and went home, trying not to look at anything else happening around me.

Red Tape

After the weekend, I barely heard a word in class. All I could think about was Inna. I’d found the address of a children’s home online. Whether it was the right one, I’d have to find out when I got there. After school, I went. About an hour later, I reached a tall iron fence. Behind it were gazebos, sandboxes, and children playing tag. It looked like an ordinary kindergarten. Across the street stood an apartment building with broken windows. I didn’t know why nobody had replaced them, but the sight made me feel even worse.

After watching the children, I walked around the perimeter several times. I couldn’t see Inna, so I decided to go in and ask directly.

“Hello. Inna Smirnova was brought here recently, wasn’t she? Could I see her?” I asked a woman sitting near the entrance, her head propped on one hand as she read a newspaper.

She raised tired eyes to me. Apparently I’d interrupted the most interesting part.

“Hello. Yes. And who are you to her?” After a moment, she lowered her head and lazily looked me up and down.

“I’m her… friend. We go to school together!” The question threw me, even though I’d already heard it twice.

For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to say boyfriend. Friend sounded more familiar. Safer.

“A friend, then. I see!” she drawled, looking me over again. After a pause, she went on in an almost accusing tone. “Friends aren’t allowed to visit. Relatives only!”