She looked at me for a moment and grabbed her side with her hands.
– Ow, Iosif Seraphimovich, it seems my liver is out of order! Can I leave early?
– Are you kidding? We have just begun. – The teacher looked at the clock. – Alright, you can learn this tarantella at home. Will you be able to do so without me?
– I'll try! – She laughed and began putting her stuff into her case.
I decided to sit in the school hallway and read the first position sheet. I didn't notice it but I began thinking out loud.
– On the first string, you have a note called C, on the third one there's also a C. This C goes to another octave, an octave is two notes, the first one and the eighth one, and because there are only seven notes, they always repeat themselves.
Suddenly I heard a bright voice.
– But of course! Everything's logical in music. That's the great harmony!
I lifted my eyes. The angel came to me.
– Hello! – She sounded like a tiny bell. – You're studying with me. What's your name?
I stopped for a while before telling her my name.
– Hi. Alexander.
– And your patronymic?
– What for?
– Well, you're older than me, – she smiled.
I moved around on the bench awkwardly and looked at her.
– Alexander Pavlovich.
– Pleased to meet you, Alexander Pavlovich! – She held out her hand, the one that was free from the case. I held out my hand, the one that wasn't holding the sheet. – My name is Sasha.
– Nice to meet you, Sasha. You and I, we're almost the same, huh? But… For how long have you been playing? – I was ready for a hit.
– About nine years.
The hit was juicy.
– I see, – I didn't show I was hurt.
– Conservatory students, go home this instant! – A voice roared next to us. – Someone's got a sore liver!
– Off we go, Iosif Seraphimovich! – Sasha chimed and grabbed her coat and boots.
I followed her example.
It's fresh outside. A bit chilly but my coat is saving me.
I heard hurrying footsteps, then a voice.
– Alexander Pavlovich! – Sasha ran to me. I almost crossed the road without her.
– What's up Sasha? – I turned around.
– Would you like something? It's on me! I know a pastry stand nearby.
I would never forgive myself.
– Of course, let's go. But aren't you sick in the stomach?
– But who told you everything in this life is fair?
I smiled in satisfaction.
We crossed a couple or roads and went to the stand. Sasha paid for two hot buns and gave me one. We began chewing; I've never eaten anythng as disgusting as this bun, but I couldn't even think about throwing it away.