Love Is Never Past Tense... by Janna Yeshanova

…”
    After a while, on the table, there appeared bottles and every possible snack. Valera, probably, decided to impress everyone with his largesse. He pulled out a thick wallet and paid for the wine, for the steak, and for a tip for the waiter. He did all of this in such a way that it seemed that he would start to pay for the table next to them. He liked to be the center of attention and did not hide it. The conversation with Janna dove into Kishinev life like a spoon into porridge. There was little to understand, and to Serge, it was uninteresting. Mila did not participate in the conversation either, and slowly sipped from her glass. She was a very timid girl.
    Her transparent eyes were gentle and tender. She could not bear direct eye contact and hastily lowered her eyelids. She tried to thank someone, when that person was only about to do a favor. It was the embodiment of femininity, charming, but still childish. She was studying at ballet school.
    Exchanging short phrases with Mila, Serge secretly snuck a look at Janna. “Why did she talk about a groom? Did she simply say these words, or was there some deeper meaning behind it? This phrase could prevent unwanted attention from Valera. But what for? Valera is with a lady. Did her words just tumble out? Then she has it on her mind. She wanted me to think about it. So, she achieved what she wanted: I am thinking about it. Although nothing similar came into my head until now. The bride, hа! What nonsense!”
    Janna and Valera debated with fervency about the behavior of a mutual friend. Janna often switched into English, which surprised and intrigued Serge. Knowledge of foreign languages by someone in the USSR was more often the exception, rather than the rule. Only lucky people were going abroad, but mostly to other socialist countries. About the capitalist countries, mere mortals did not even dream. To meet foreigners and make friends with them was not only welcomed, but was even pursued. Yet to do this was dangerous. Why would you study languages? Where is the incentive? In any case, the people who surrounded Serge, both at school and at the institute, had no desire to study English or German. French, Spanish and other languages, were considered exotic, in general. Under these circumstances, a person knowing more than one language gained esteem with anyone who came in contact with them. The image of such a person automatically rose. And, as Serge discovered, his newly-made friend was such a person: without any effort, she spit out English phrases that Serge could not understand. An inexplicable feeling of pride was forming, but it was immediately superseded by the sensation of a growing abyss between him and this woman. “Who am I for her? Her future husband? Baloney! What a milk sucker, what a greenhorn. Kisses are the only thing that she will allow you. You are simply a toy. She enjoys the opportunity to possess a lad, drowning in his sexual saliva. Maybe, she will allow herself to be close with you, for the sake of novelty sensations. But with this, her interest will end. What kind of a groom? Why did she say that?”
    In the café, the wine had gone to Valera’s head, and finding himself in the street, he became adventurous.
    “So, let’s go to a wonderful place I know. Quiet, no objections.” He ran across the street, and reigned in a taxi like a lathered horse. Valera hoisted himself in the front seat, and in the voice of a minister named the address. In the car, he sat half-turned around, and entertained the ladies with secular chatter. Mila perched like a kitty cat between Serge and Janna, laughing at the tricks of her future groom, and Serge could not understand what attracted her to this boaster.
    The taxi drove to the harbor. It is one of the architectural masterpieces of mature socialism. But it was not love of architecture that attracted the adventure seekers here. On the second floor, behind the windows covered with curtains, existed the world where