Burya polov

Or, an effeminate Russian boy's story

Chapter Six: One-punch woman

Once the exam week passed, and Monday rolled around, what woke Zhenya up this time was not his alarm clock, but a phone call. He reached for his cellphone and placed it by his ear.

“Hello?”

“Have I got Evgeny Dmitrievich Zhenin?”

“That’s me… Why are you calling at five in the morning…?”

“Because I’m a school-goer just like you, silly boy.”

“Dina…?”

“No, this is Sergei. Just letting you know that, as a member of the gymnastics club, you are obliged to come to the gym after classes are over. That’s all!”

“Wait, I’m not—”

But, the caller hung up first. Zhenya slowly got up and tried to recall the moment he joined said club, but struggled. That was because he might have not. Maybe someone had signed him up instead? Why gymnastics in particular? But he did not complain, for he needed to further get in shape anyway. After getting up, he watered some of his flowers, then proceeded with the rest of his routine. On his way to the metro stop, he saw newspapers having written about the next big thing: something titled the Priyat’fest. Since he saw no signs of the daily newspaper he bought a few months ago, he went away after buying a ham sandwich.

In school, everything seemed normal. Filat was no longer yodelling in pain, for he was once again happily using his right arm.

“Here,” said Zhenya to Filat, offering him the sandwich, “though you doubted me.”

He poked Filat’s right arm.

“I already have lunch,” Filat said, still taking it, “made by Natalya, just for me.”

“Really? Lucky you!”

“You could say so, yes, for sure. Listen, I don’t wanna disrupt your beauty routine, should you have one for whatever reason, but can you tell me what happened last week? I’m havin’ a hard time remembering.”

While waiting for the History professor to arrive, Zhenya, having nodded his head, explained that Filat and he had taken a few midterm exams, how Filat had aced the Russian language assignment, and how a beast had invaded the school gym after winning a game of volleyball.

“Well, colour me surprised,” said Filat afterward. “Moscow has been cursed beyond belief…”

“Sure has been,” Zhenya agreed. “Also, someone joined the gymnastics club on my behalf.”

“Oh? I thought you already were in a club?” Filat wondered. “Like the make-up club, or the cross-dressing club, or even the dress-and-behave-like-the-opposite-sex club!”

“You just said the cross-dressing club again.”

“I did, but the latter is more on-the-nose, which is how you come off.”

“…But the latter doesn’t exist, does it?”

“Actually, it does!”

“But how? That sounds like a honeypot that punishes students who naively join the club!” Zhenya said.

“You say that like it’s bad.”

“Whatever, Filat,” Zhenya said, standing up, “I think you overstayed your welcome.”

He walked out of the classroom to wash his hands, and while returning saw the professor so he quickened his pace. Filat had taken the hint and was seated at his school bench.

Lunch time was as ordinary as it gets. Zhenya found the absence of Valeria somewhat peculiar. She often patrolled the area by the staircase, looking for an unsuspecting victim to latch onto and make him, or her, submit. He was still thinking about the gymnastics club and who could have signed him up. He encountered Dina sitting on a bench and joined her as they ate in silence—until Dina sneezed so hard that she reappeared on the staircase five metres away. She laughed it off.

“Whoa, I gained a new superpower!”

Zhenya suspected otherwise, but as he felt a sneeze coming from him and after doing it without teleporting, he suspected otherwise again.

“I promise I’m not sick or anything!” said Dina. “Okay, maybe I am, but only because the weather went from a comfortable eighteen degrees to a slightly less comfortable nine…”

What a steep change in temperature! But she had a point—it had indeed been warm the previous day. It was November, middle of autumn, so this kind of oscillation was perfectly reasonable. Hold on, now, had he forgotten that Dina had literally bended the space-time continuum by sneezing!?

When Geography class was over, so was school—for most of Zhenya’s classmates. But his day in said building was not over yet. Holding a bag packed with his standard PE uniform, he headed for the gymnasium door. The uniform was quite simple: white shirt, red shorts and white shoes. Instead of white socks, however, he accidentally packed a pair of silly ones, with white and blue stripes. He still put them on because he liked them a lot. On the field, two boys were having a conversation when Zhenya walked in.

“Ah, you must be Zhenin!” a boy with blonde hair said, shaking Zhenya’s hand violently. “Sergei, in case you were wondering. I’m the president.”

“Y-yeah,” Zhenya said, nodding, “nice to meet you too…”

“We’re just waiting for one more member, she’ll be out shortly.”

As the sole female member of the gymnastics club was setting foot in the field, Zhenya could not help but notice her features. She appeared the same height as him, with dark blue hair, in the same uniform but with a pair of black and white socks instead of just white. But that last detailed was not important. Who did also have dark blue hair? Then, it clicked.

“Valeria…?”

The girl, who was gazing upward, quickly locked her eyes on the poor boy.

“Well well, if it isn’t Zhena… You did come in the end, eh?” she said, maliciously smirking.

“I guess so… now please, explain why I’m here!”

“Oh, there’s not much to explain, BOY… I just felt your movement was graceful… I saw you at PE dodging a mean monster’s attacks, so I asked myself, ‘Why not refer him to ol’ Sergei and get him into gymnastics for real?’ So I did just that. Nothin’ more, nothin’ less.”

“Thanks,” Zhenya said with a smile that just as swiftly disappeared as it had appeared, “but how did you know I had PE that day…?”

“Secret,” she said, smirking again, “but I can only tell you that I asked around.”

She had gone to his classroom during lunch, had she not?

“Anyway, now that we’re all here,” Valeria said to Sergei, “let us warm up.”

“Good idea! Let’s do ten laps around the field!”

Ten!? Was three not enough? With no time to think, Zhenya took off along with the other three students. He was a little slower than his peers, which became evident when Valeria passed him. It became even more evident when Zhenya faceplanted at the same time Valeria passed him. He had barely got up when Sergei shouted across the gym:

“No procrastinating! Go, go, go!”

Shaking his head, Zhenya continued his jog around the field. The second time Valeria ran past him, she was holding a banana in her right hand, and nothing happened. The third time, its peel was used as an item in a kart-racing game, and Zhenya fell for the trap. He landed on his back. He spent even less time recovering then, but Sergei still shouted:

“You’re such an airhead, aren’t you, man?”

Zhenya yelled back:

“Why is she eatin—”

“Less yapping, more lapping!” he interrupted the boy’s moment of courage while running past him. “Five more laps to go, buddy!”

Buddy! How rude! Once up, he attempted to finish the jog as quickly as possible, which he did two minutes after everybody else finished their rep. Zhenya was sweating like a pig by the end of it.

“Cool!” said Sergei without addressing the elephant in the room. “Now, let’s do some exercises.”

Zhenya was not opposed to this, but disliked how close he was to Valeria, so he stepped back.

“Aww, are you scared of me or something?” she retorted after noticing him do that. “I’m not trying to hurt you, BOY…”

Yeah, right! She said that AFTER tripping him over and conveniently placing a banana peel in front of him. But naturally, nobody would be on his side if he tried to accuse her of lack of sportsmanship. So he remained obedient throughout the second half of the warm-up.

After that was over, Sergei unlocked the storage room and asked the other boy to help him carry out the vaulting table while Valeria took out the springboard and Zhenya some landing mats. Real fun was just about to start. First, Sergei demonstrated his vaulting skills. He ran towards the springboard, jumped off of it, over the vault, and onto the mat after performing a simple somersault.

It was Zhenya’s turn to try. He was caught off guard, but decided to try anyway. He had a decent head-start but noticed that Valeria was, once again, scheming something beside the springboard, thus he came to a halt.

“Do you mind?” Zhenya asked her as politely as possible.

“What? I’m just surveying your performance from up close!”

“You don’t have to do that, thanks. Plus, I don’t believe you.”

“Oh, quit being so paranoid! Look, Sergei’s face tells you to try again, and make it quick!”

Zhenya sighed and tried again. Cooler heads prevailed, after all. Just as he was about to spring onto the board, Valeria pushed it aside. Luckily for Zhenya, he stopped again just before the table so he did not embarrass himself for no reason. He looked upon the girl again:

“Has anyone ever told you how horrible you are?” Zhenya said bluntly.

“Who? Me?” Valeria said, pointing to herself, and Zhenya nodded. “You might be the first one. But why you gotta be so rude to your classmate?”

“We’re not classmates,” he replied, shaking his head, “and if you continue to sabotage me, I will simply not vault at all.”

“Gosh, you’re sooo petty! Real men make do with what they got! Don’t tell me you don’t see yourself as a real man…”

A real man! How did she know what a real man was? She was not even a man herself! How dared she! Zhenya moved the springboard back in its place and retried. Of course, he did that for naught because it was pushed aside one more time. But he did not care. He was going to make the jump anyway. He placed his hands on the seemingly quite tall table in an attempt to skip it, but he instead shortly floated above it, with his legs spread, before collapsing away from the mat and hitting the ground butt-first. He hollered in mild pain while Valeria was bursting.

“Silly BOY! You really thought you could skip the vault without the springboard! Oh, how cute!”

Without delay, Zhenya got up and shouted:

“Sergei! Over here!”

“Yo, what’s good?” he responded immediately, but without being even mildly concerned.

“Please tell this girl to stop touching the gymnastics apparatuses for the sake of short-term comedy!”

“You telltale!” Valeria objected. “You don’t have any proof of that!”

“You were the only person next to the springboard,” Zhenya explained.

“I was nowhere near as close as you claim!”

“Now, you two, save the chatter for later,” said Sergei, “and let me show you, Zhenin, how it’s done…”

While Sergei went away to get a head-start, Zhenya felt inclined to put the springboard back. But, as Sergei was nearing it, he jumped over—not onto—the springboard and landed perfectly on the mat. Valeria clapped hard and praised him endlessly like he were Zeus himself.

“I… I can’t do that!” Zhenya complained.

“Then I’m afraid you can’t consider yourself a proper gymnast,” said Sergei. “You may stay if you’d like to keep trying, or… the door is wide open if that’s not the case.”

What kind of choice was that—between humiliation and disgrace!? He sighed again and resigned to attempting to get at least one vault right before the extracurricular class was over. In fact, Zhenya was the only one even trying. The unknown boy got bored of waiting for his turn and went home, Valeria was still by the springboard, constantly playing with the gadgets, and Sergei was sipping from a tomato juice carton while sitting on the ground, far away from the scene.

After Valeria got bored of waiting for something humorous to happen, she fell asleep, which allowed Zhenya to finally vault across the table and land on the mat with the help of the springboard. He felt so good about it that he tried again, and managed. On his third attempt, he heard a faint sound of the school bell. Of course, classes were long over—this time it signalled the end of extracurricular activities.

“Alright, pack it up, people!” Sergei shouted, waking up Valeria in the process. “Make sure to come next Monday for more gymnastics!”

Before getting dressed up, Zhenya took it upon himself to carry the vaulting table back into the storage, even though it was unnecessarily heavy, while Valeria handled the two mats and Sergei the springboard. Still, Zhenya went into the changing room first. He removed his gym uniform and was about to finish putting his shirt on when he noticed a piece of paper underneath an out-of-order shower cabin. It looked like a form of sorts. With nobody around, Zhenya simply took it, folded it in eight and slipped it inside his pocket. He had a feeling it would come in handy.
Sergei walked inside to also change and called out to Zhenya:

“I think you left something in the storage room, brother.”

Zhenya was no boy of little shortcomings. He was suicidally obedient, even an airhead like Sergei said. But he was certainly not forgetful. What could he have possibly forgotten? Then it hit him—his phone was missing from his pockets. Wait, he had not carried it with him out of the changing room, much less into the storage room! He sensed a trap waiting for him to fall into. Yet he still left the changing room and, sure enough, saw a phone deep inside said storage room. Was it his or not, he was unsure, but the case on it looked familiar. He went for it anyway after looking around him to see if anyone was scheming and realising the coast seemed clear. As soon as he picked up the phone and turned around, however, the door was shut, and behind them—who else but Valeria.

“Aha! You’re embarrassingly easy to trick!” Valeria said, waving at him.

“Woo-hoo, you got me,” said Zhenya, “but how exactly do you benefit from this?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” she replied, pulling a phone from her pocket. “You can just call that dyna-bitch to come save your useless bum from this prison! Isn’t that right!? Ri—”

“But my phone is password-protected.”

“So? Just type the pass—”

“I meant to say, this phone isn’t.”

He showed her the phone, which he unlocked with a single press of a button. This prompted Valeria to open up the phone she was holding and she found herself unable to unlock it without typing a password.

“Fuck! Wrong phone!”

“Can’t say I blame you,” Zhenya said, “since our phone cases are quite similar. Still, though, I realised how you benefit from having my phone now. You can—”

“I have no use for this phone! If I could unlock it, sure, but my phone is way more important, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t dig through it for any embarrassing pictures of me, because you won’t find them…”

What a change in tone, Zhenya noted.

“Unlike you, I actually respect your privacy, and I’ll prove it by leaving your phone here…”

“Don’t just set it aside! I want it now!” Valeria shouted.

“Okay, but you have to let me go first.”

“But how will that teach you a lesson!?”

“What lesson? To not be so naive? Because if so, I learned my lesson. Right? Now can you…”

Oh, what was he saying? She was obviously going to keep him jailed for as long as her little heart desired. No use in asking her the second time. But just then, he got an idea.

“I get it now,” Zhenya said calmly, “you want a fairer trade. Then how about this… Ahem… You give me freedom, and I’ll give you your phone back. Then you give mine back, and in return…”

He hesitated with a short sigh.

“I’ll give you… a reason… to punch me.”

“A reason to… what? What are you yapping about?” Valeria asked, admittedly quite confused.

“I’ll tell you something that’ll make your blood boil,” he replied, “something that’ll cause you to strike me with your fist, you know?”

Valeria looked down, still processing Zhenya’s words, until finally saying:

“You have an odd way of thinking, Zhena. It’s a deal.”

Zhenya nodded back, albeit just as taken by surprise as her that his way of thinking had worked. First, Valeria was told to unlock the storage room. Once Zhenya was out, he offered her the phone, which she snatched from his hands. After that, Valeria returned Zhenya his phone which he put in his pocket. Now, it was up to Zhenya to fulfil his end of the trade the second time. A reason for Valeria to send him directly to the afterlife. Or something close to it.

“So? You gonna spill the beans already? I don’t have all day,” said Valeria, tapping the ground with her left foot.

“Alright, just tell me,” Zhenya asked, “is nobody else here but us?”

“I hope not, it’d be a shame if I had to make a trip to the principal’s because of your useless ass.”

“True…”

After this, he stopped stalling for time and got to brass tacks with his ruffian acquaintance:

“I was there when you broke up with your boyfriend last year.”

“So what? Wasn’t half the school there, too?”

“That is true. But did you know he commissioned a remote-controlled pigeon to be built by a farmer living in… Beloomut, was it…? And which dropped a note to you while you were getting ready to leave the building.”

“Oh yeah? …Wait a second. Wait wait wait wait… how the hell do you know who built it!?”

He did not. That was a lie, or was supposed to be, at least.

“A-anyway,” he continued, “he invited you to the roof of the school’s gymnasium. Yes, the same one we’re inside of. You must’ve found that weird, right? Luckily, the way you got up there was with a solar elevator that was set up outside…”

“No… you’re lying!” Valeria shouted. “There was no such thing as a breakup on the gym’s rooftop tied to my name! No way! And the elevator!? Get real!”

They looked in each other’s eyes before Zhenya asked:

“I’m not really lying, am I?”

“No…” said Valeria in near defeat.

Zhenya wondered how such a setup was even possible. Most importantly, he wondered if he should make his lies less convincing.

“O-okay… then… uh… after you arrived, the ex ordered us to make way for you since you would be in the spotlight. Just then, he told—”

“No, he did not!”

“—the school band next to him—”

“No, no, NO!”

“—to start playing—”

“Just shut up already!!”

“—a heavy metal song that you really like.”

“I sai—wait, it is true that I have a favourite song. But can you even wager a guess…?”

“I can try… It might be called…”

Oh, brother. This was going to be a mouthful. That was bad enough, but he was also about to cuss! Zhenya swallowed his pride and calmly named this make-believe song:

“Hey, Motherfucker, Bring Me Cranberry Juice.”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

Valeria covered her ears while her yelling echoed throughout the gymnasium. There was no way such a song existed! He had to give it a listen once he got home. Of course, if he would make it home in the first place—things were slipping out of his control, fast.

“B-but that’s not even the best part,” Zhenya continued his attempt to make up this story, “because he didn’t sing that song at all! Rather, he wrote his own lyrics for it! I remember them, too. One of them goes: Hey, crazy gurl, remember the time ya sprayed me with pink paint ‘cuz you thought I was a fa… fa… fa…”

Oh, dear! Zhenya began feeling very dizzy. His pureness could not at all utter such a repulsive word. But this one was an actual falsehood, right? No way did this somehow real song have these exact, totally fake lyrics for the sole purpose of offending Valeria before her boyfriend broke off with her, right? Surely, Valeria would soon start picking up on the fact that Zhenya had not actually been present during that moment, right? But no—it all very much was real. He knew that because Valeria was already rolling up the sleeves of her deep purple shirt.

“Stop! No more! Those were HORRIBLE times for poor old me!”

“But wait, there’s more!” Zhenya said seemingly with confidence, but was in reality fearing for his life. Besides, what kind of cruel joke did her ex-boyfriend try to crack with this song and dance? Was he heartless? A vampire? A sucker for clout? All three? Anyway, he still kept going, “I can never forget his final words to you. He did not actually mean to offend you! I know that, because he… he said, ‘Just kidding, I think you’re one fine girl! But the truth is, I found a finer girl not too long ago. So I’m not interested in you any more. So goodbye,’ he said, dropping the mic to the ground, ‘and good rid—’”

Zhenya was not able to finish any of his thoughts any more, much less this sentence, because the last things he saw before succumbing to his dizziness were a fist headed for his face (a mean one at that) and blood coming out of his nose once he was on the ground. He heard Valeria muttering something about gossip, how only women should be allowed to gossip, not men, no matter how girly they were. He found himself disliking his kind after discovering what a nutjob her former boyfriend was. He would never wish such a horrible breakup upon anyone, not even his worst enemy. Not like he had any, unless Valeria counted.
Afterwards, Zhenya stopped thinking altogether for a little while.

---

CLANG! A sound of metal falling to the ground brought Zhenya out of unconsciousness. His body was hoisted up and he heard a still faint sound calling to him:

“Zhenya! Zhenya!! Are you okay!?”

He opened his left eye first, but he saw nothing because of his overly long bangs, so he very slowly opened the other. Orange hair. Looked a little like an explosion. Red eyes. Looked like they were ready to shed some tears.

“Di… Dina…?”

“Zhenya! You’re awake! What are you doing here of all places!?”

“Huh? Where could that be…”

Around him, he saw all kinds of gym apparatuses, some of which were used during gymnastics class. No doubt about it: he was back inside the storage room. And the metal that fell to the ground was what kept the door locked. Had Dina broken inside to save him?

“Ahaha…” he forced a laugh. “Jeez, I’m sooo naive… I fell for the same trap twice on the same day…”

“Did you say trap!?” Dina asked, putting her hands on his shoulders. “Who did this to you, krasivy malchik!? Tell me who, and I’ll make them forget the entire multiplication table!”

“I… I’m not sure if I should spill the beans, because she might come after me if I—”

“Well, to hell with her! Who is that bi… wait a second… her? Don’t tell me… is it…”

“…Yes,” Zhenya replied simply.

Dina made a pause in her speech before asking:

“Did she… also… y’know… uh-uh”—she said while gently jabbing Zhenya’s stomach.

“…She did,” he replied again, and added, “And she also… um…”

“She what!? It gets even worse!?”

“She… she uh…”

After hesitating a little, Zhenya told Dina about his involvement in a suspiciously run gymnastics club, before giving her the slip he picked up not too long ago, and explained how Valeria had somehow signed him up for it so she could humiliate him during vaulting exercises, and if that was not enough, had tricked him into locking himself up in the storage room. He did not mention that he had somehow perfectly described Valeria’s breakup with her boyfriend the previous year, which gave her a more or less valid reason to serve him a knuckle sandwich due to reawakened trauma. Was it insincere of him? Slightly. But it was sincere enough for Dina, who clenched her teeth and her right fist.

“Tch! So that’s how it is! Well, sit tight, krasivy malchik! I’ll see what this gymnastics club is really about…”

And so she did—the Monday which followed. For this to work, Zhenya had to make another sacrifice that day by revisiting the gymnasium after class. He prepared his uniform as always, not forgetting a pair of simply white socks alongside it. There was no sight of Dina anywhere in the gymnasium. He had to hope she hid somewhere that was not even a bit suspicious, but when the building is concerned, there was hardly a good spot to hide. Oh well, he thought. He would just follow his heart.

For that day’s gymnastics class, the balance beam, a long apparatus indeed, had been taken out of the storage room. Normally, only women competed in this artistic gymnastics event, but since this was not a competition, it was a more than ideal opportunity for Sergei to show off some more. He mounted the beam, followed by a leap from one side to the other with his legs in a 180-degree split, an entire turn on his right foot, a somersault and another leap backward, before he dismounted. The only skill Zhenya considered himself capable of was keeping his balance on said beam, but he was still encouraged to give it a try. Zhenya was hoping Sergei would guide him, but the boy instead bolted across the gymnasium for a much needed strawberry juice break. So, it was just Zhenya and Valeria by the beam. Not a very safe environment, all things considered.

Zhenya carefully mounted the beam, making sure he did so fully before he stood up. The beam was barely as wide as his gym shoes, which caused him to wobble just a tiny bit. What now? Should he try making his way to the end of the beam? That was what he did, additionally motivated by his vaulting the other Monday, thus forgetting a certain nuisance standing next to him.

“Wait a moment,” Valeria whispered to herself, “this beam ain’t at an angle adjacent to the football field… Better fix that.”

She did so by sporadically kicking it with her foot. This, naturally, caused turbulence and Zhenya almost lost his balance, but he managed to stay on the beam, which surprised him positively. Still, he should hurry to the edge before things could get any…

“Actually… I’d prefer if half the beam’s legs were outside the court.”

Valeria entered the court and pushed the beam outward, and this time Zhenya was not so lucky—he fell on his butt just like last time. Getting up and seeing that Valeria stopped pushing the beam, he did the honours on her behalf.

“There, happy now?” he asked her half in jest, half in irritation. “Couldn’t you have waited until—”

“Oi, Zhenin! No slacking off!” shouted Sergei who appeared out of thin air.

“What are you, the sea?” Zhenya asked the boy. “And how many waves do you have?[1]”

Sergei stared at Zhenya like he just heard a joke about two old ladies sitting in the dark, when the third one entered the room and switched the lights on. Sure, that kind of joke was peak comedy to some people. But Sergei was obviously not “some people”.

“Right,” Sergei answered, “try maintaining your balance on your hands next! Then we’ll talk.”

But again, instead of helping him prepare, Sergei hopped into the boys’ locker room for a carton of eggplant juice. To Zhenya’s surprise, Valeria assisted him in getting back on the beam. She even offered to hold him while he was getting used to the handstand. It was nice of her, sure, but he suspected she had an ulterior motive with this assistance. And just as that thought ran through his head, just as Valeria let go of him and he was back to maintaining the balance all on his own, more or less successfully, Valeria rubbed the tip of her chin and said:

“Actually, maybe it’s better if the beam remains within the court… else it looks like it’s dangling…”

One ever so slight push was all that was needed. Zhenya immediately, rather abruptly, or even violently, ended his handstand and crashed onto the floor, letting out a piercing moan from his mouth. He did not stick the landing at all.

“Oops, forgot you were on the beam, my bad!” Valeria said, completely aware of the situation she just created.

Zhenya did not get up this time. The pain was coming from his left ankle. He twisted it, again! At least monsters had no awareness of human pain, so he could not stay mad at them for too long. But Valeria clearly knew what she did, and still opted to make a horrible joke at his expense. Why had he even bothered coming to the gymnasium after class? Was he a masochist? Now, was he not too young to be thinking about sadism and masochism?

“Oh, come on, you pussy,” Valeria said, nudging him with her right foot, “it’s not THAT ba—”

Her sentence was cut short by a sound of falling canvas. It used to hang on the ceiling, against a wall, and the message on it said, “Vote For President Vladimir Perkovsky! Make Your Vote Count In a Sea of Those That Don’t!” alongside a portrait of said student. Behind the canvas, a familiar orange-haired figure. Dina! She had made it! She leapt from the wall to the ground, startling Valeria in the process.

“Not you again!” she shouted.

“You took the words right outta my mouth,” Dina replied, “which I meant to use against you, you filthy scoundrel!”

“Whoa, whoa, cool it off with the profanity! There are children in this school!”

“Oh, like the kid you just pushed from this gymnastics apparatus?”

“Him? No way, he totally lost balance all on his own! Look, he’s having a hearty laugh about it, too!”

“Hearty…? Laugh…? This boy isn’t rolling on the floor laughing,” Dina shouted as she inched closer to Valeria, “he’s rolling on the floor screaming his fucking head off! Oh,” she said, stepping away, “and you think I’m making shit up? That I’m a liar with no prospects in life? Then explain this…”

Out of her pocket, Dina took out a silver camera and played a few clips of Valeria abusing the living daylights out of the balance beam (and in turn, Zhenya, who had been on it). Valeria tried to snatch the camera away from her, with emphasis on the word “tried”.

“Fuck you! You aren’t allowed to record me without my permission!” Valeria yelled. “I’m protected under Russia’s copyright law! All rights reserved!”

“You’re not a literary work, you’re a human being. Although frankly, you’re not much of a human, given how you treat others…”

“Oi, what’s with the ruckus again?” Sergei finally gave in and approached Dina and Valeria.

“Hi there,” Dina greeted him, “I was looking for you too. But we’ll talk later. For now, just watch…”

Dina then left the camera in Zhenya’s hands which clasped it firmly, while she shoved Valeria onto the grid wall of the storage room.

“Hey, woman,” Valeria said, struggling against her, “we shouldn’t resort to violence so quickly…”

“You’re the one to talk. Parry this!”

She hesitated no further. She let Valeria go after setting her in front of the storage room entrance and lunged a straight punch to her face, which sent her flying into the storage room, knocking over the vaulting table, which knocked over the many landing mats, which knocked over a stadiometer, which knocked over a hand dynamometer, which knocked over a few dumbbells, some of which rolled over towards the rolling cart, which released most of the balls outside, some of which knocked over some cones, a clear bin containing defunct gym equipment and another containing copious amounts of resistance bands, all this while a gym ball bounced around, which knocked over a few hangers, some with jumping ropes around them. Topping things off, a random weight plate of one kilogramme comfortably landed on Valeria’s right upper thigh from above the lowered ceiling. An incredibly brief moment of silence was broken off with Valeria bursting into tears. She did cry, and she cried like a child whose candy was not only stolen, but also crushed into bits right in front of it. But there were no tears.

Sergei gasped just as loudly after seeing the aftermath of Dina’s lethal fist strike.

“Nooooooooo!!! I spent six hours and forty-six minutes organising that room!! Yes, I counted.”

“Cool, next time you’ll have no problem tidying it up in less, right?” Dina said. “Anyway, I’m here for another reason. Tell me, this isn’t really the gymnastics club, is it?”

“Huh? What do you take me for? Are you doubting my gymnastics prowess?” Sergei asked, flexing his muscles.

“Nah, I’m rather impressed by what you’re capable of. If only you could have taught krasivy malchik some of your tricks. But no, you don’t really care, it seems. And Valeria… well, she ‘supervised’ him better than you did, and that says a lot. This club is a total farce, a crude mockery even, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you forged the… what’s it called…”

“…School club creation form,” stammered Zhenya while still on the ground.

“Yeah! The school club creation form! You forged it so you could purposefully put an innocent student in danger!”

“Wha—how can you both be so sure about that…?” Sergei said calmly while unable to hide the sweat coming out of his face. “For such an outrageous claim, you need—”

“Proof?” Dina interrupted him while flashing a piece of paper in front of him. “Yeah, you didn’t do a good job with the correction fluid. Even a child using its toes would’ve made no errors!”

After folding it and placing it inside her pocket, Dina picked Zhenya up, with one arm supporting his back, and the other under his legs. Zhenya put his arms around Dina so that the carry was easier for the already quite strong girl.

“I shall report your fraudulent activity to the principal immediately,” Dina said walking away, “and I hope she punishes you to the maximum extent permitted by law. Although personally, I think a ban from the upcoming gymnastics competition would suffice…”

“No, please, anything but that! It’s been a dream of mine to take part in this prestigious competition!”

“Hm, you might get lucky however, as she might only slap your wrist instead… because who gives a fuck about consequences, right!? Oh, and one more thing… tell him, krasivy malchik.”

Despite being slightly caught off guard, having paid attention to Sergei’s reaction to this reveal, Zhenya was thinking what Dina was as well.

“I’m not coming back next Monday. Farewell, Sergei.”

Zhenya let go with one arm just so he could cutely wave at the boy.

“You heard the boy! Let’s get outta here and leave ‘em be.”

Together, they made a break for it, albeit not as quickly as the phrase suggested. The last thing Zhenya in particular saw before hitting the door was Sergei pulling out his phone. Who knew what he was going to use it for…

END OF CHAPTER

Footnotes:

[1] In Russia, the Statues game has the person at the end of a field chant, «Море волнуется — раз!» (literally “The sea has waves—one!”) The number increases any time the “curator” turns around.