We sit like that, in silence, enjoying the moment. The wind gently plays with strands of her hair, and the warm glow of the streetlights casts soft reflections on her face. I feel time slowing down, allowing us to memorize every detail, every breath. I know that difficulties lie ahead, but I also know we can get through everything if we are together. Because she is my Rebel Girl, a burst of fire in the midst of gray routines, and I am her Nerd, the one who always thinks rationally. And together, we are the perfect combination.
"Why are we here?" I ask, looking around.
"Because this is where we first met," the girl in my arms replies.
"Don't start again about giving up on your desire," anxiety churns inside me. I don't want to lose Katrin. We have been through too much to just give up now. "And remember, right after yours comes mine."
Rebel Girl takes a slow breath and then looks me straight in the eyes. There is so much determination in her gaze that it takes my breath away.
"No, I'll keep my promise," she gives me her word. "Did you really like Grandpa Vi?"
"Nah, but what about him? He turned out to be a cool guy," I shrug, pretending it doesn't have much meaning, but a faint doubt still lingers inside me. "At first, I thought something bad, but then I realized I was wrong, and I liked him right away."
"What exactly did you think?"
"I thought he liked you the same way I do, or like Ivan does," I feel awkward, but I know it's better to tell the truth. I don't want any misunderstandings to remain between us, even if it means confessing my jealousy.
"What? How could you even think something like that?" her voice grows louder, and her eyes widen in indignation. "He replaced and still replaces a father for me. There has never been and never will be any chemistry between us. We're like family. Ugh! It's disgusting even to think about something like that."
Katrin waves her arms in outrage, her face twisted in disgust, as if the very thought is unbearable for her.
"Sorry, I realized my mistake in the end," I lower my gaze, feeling both guilt and relieved. I am glad everything is cleared up, but at the same time, I am ashamed of my suspicions.
"If Vi heard that, he'd knock some sense into you," the girl squints her eyes and pretends to wag her finger at me. There is a playful threat in her voice, but I know she is joking. Or almost joking.
"But you won't tell him, right, my little Rebel Girl?" I start playfully flirting with her, winking and smiling in a way that she won't be able to resist.
"I don't even know. Maybe if you convince me…" her lips stretch into a sly smile, and her eyes sparkle with excitement. She is clearly enjoying the moment, knowing she has me on the hook.
"I'm ready to convince you day and night," I lift her shirt and kiss her stomach. My lips touch her skin, and I feel the girl shiver from the tickle. Her body arches, and she laughs, trying to push me away, but I'm not about to give up so easily. Her laughter is so genuine and contagious that I can't help but smile back. In that moment, everything around us feels perfect — her laughter, her smile, her touch.
"That tickles!" my girl squeals, laughing and trying to push me away. She is so beautiful when she laughs, and I want this moment to last forever.
"What are the plans for tomorrow? Well, besides taking the car to Grandpa Vi late in the evening?" I settle next to her and wrap my arm around her shoulders. My fingers lazily play with her hair, and I feel her gradually relax.
"Sleeping in until that very evening," she replies, yawning and stretching like a kitten. Her eyes are already starting to close from exhaustion, but she is still smiling. I can see her fighting sleep, and it is both adorable and amusing.
"And the day after tomorrow? I want to know what our plans are for the remaining seven days," I continue playing with her hair. I am curious about what she has in mind, and I am already anticipating new adventures. I love when we spend time together, and I can't wait to find out what she has prepared for us. She turns to me, her eyes sparkling with excitement, and I understand that she already has a plan.
We get into the car, and I turn on some music — quiet but rhythmic, so as not to disturb the cozy atmosphere. The city lights flicker outside the window, creating the sensation that we are gliding through time and space.
"Tomorrow's definitely going to fly by because I want to get a good sleep after tonight. And then I have plans for a bar and another party. What do you think, are you for or against?" she knows I won't refuse, but she still wants to hear my words.
"How could I ever be against you? Never in my life! I'm all for it!" I exclaim, raising my hand in agreement.
"Well then, let's take a couple more laps around the city and head home, because I'm exhausted both physically and mentally."
"Fine, Katrinka," I reply with sarcasm, emphasizing every letter to make sure she feels my displeasure. My words sound sharp, and I am surprised myself by how much irritation they carry. Inside me, a mix of jealousy and resentment is raging, and I can't hold myself back. That nickname, given to her by someone else, feels like something personal, almost an intrusion into our closeness.
"Whoa, whoa! What was that just now?" she turns sharply toward me, her eyebrows shooting up and her eyes widening in surprise. She clearly doesn't expect such a reaction.
"Katrinka? Seriously? I wanted to punch that old guy for butchering your name like that," I don't like how he calls her, as if she were his property. This nickname sounds too personal, too close, and I can't accept the fact that someone else has the right to call her that.
"Oh, come on! And anyway, it wasn't him who came up with such a sweet nickname for me."
"Then who?" I ask, already feeling my jealousy starting to give way to curiosity.
"My grandma," Katrin smiles, as if reminiscing. Her face softens, and a warm nostalgia appears in her eyes. She is clearly remembering something pleasant, and it makes me calm down a little. Her grandmother was an important person to her, and I understand that this nickname is something special, not just a random label.
"Does she know Viktor?" I try to understand how those two could have even crossed paths. I am curious how her grandmother, who seems to have been a wise and strict woman, could approve of such a man.
"Yes, they have a wonderful relationship. He loves visiting her with little gifts," one can feel her pride that the two of them have found a common language.
"Does your grandma like everyone you bring around? And how could you even bring a guy like him to meet her?" I can't contain my surprise.
"He gave me a ride once, my grandma was near the house, and she asked who he was. I said he was a friend, and she asked me to introduce him to her. He told her about his life, leaving out, of course, how we actually met."
"She didn't think you two were dating?" I ask, feeling my jealousy starting to raise its head again.
"No, she said I needed a friend like him, since I didn't really have a proper father. My grandma trusts me a lot, and it's not like it's obvious that I'm in love with him or he's in love with me."
Katrin clearly values their friendship, and it makes me think. Maybe I judged him too harshly. Maybe he really is a good person, and I just didn't want to see it. I sigh, feeling my irritation gradually fade. She always knows how to calm me down, even without trying.
"Alright, I get it. Let's just go already, this day has worn me out quite a bit," I want to just drive away, leave all these conversations behind, and spend time with her without thinking about the past.