Hello, Privet! #1: Hello/Привет

Chapter 38

ANTON

Okay, she is angry again. How can I say I want to talk to her so I want to walk with her? But she is looking at me like this, like she cannot decide if I am crazy or stupid.

I shrug. "Exercise."

She shakes her head. "What were you thinking?" Then she is surprised by the thunder. "That's a totally bad idea. It looks like rain," she says. "We have to run."

Without waiting for me, the devochka runs. As I watch her, I think about how lucky it is that she is wearing flat shoes. She is different from Anais who wants to wear heels everywhere, even if she knows her feet will hurt later, and complains when we have to run from the photographers.

I run after her.

These photographers crowd around us. They cannot get closer to us in the restaurant, but once we leave, they can do whatever they want—take photos and pester me with their stupid questions. But now that I am running, the photographers also chase me, and they have motorcycles.

I catch up to the devochka in moments, and then she says, "Why did you run after me?"

"Huh?"

"You were supposed to run in the opposite direction, not the sleazy end of the street!"

She is the one who is crazy if she thinks I will let her run alone in a sleazy street. I notice a shop. It looks like a toy store or a cupcake store, painted purple. It says in front, The Fun Factory. It is bright inside. "There." I offer my hand to her, and only hesitating for a second, she takes it.

We run inside the store, then I find it is not what I thought it was, even with the pink and white decor and the brightly colored objects sold here.

"Really Anton?" The devochka is glaring at me. "Of all the places to hide in, you choose a sex toy shop?" she asks me. She takes a glance back at the glass wall, which is framed by colorful vibrators of all types and sizes. "Now they'll think we're on a date—in a sex toy shop."

It seems to me she thinks there is nothing worse for her than to let everyone think we are on a date. I don't know why she is so worried. There is no one else here except the group of women about forty to fifty years old, maybe, and a young guy, maybe as old as the devochka, paying for something at the cashier.

A lady dressed all in black with short pink hair welcomes us to the store. "Hello, welcome to The Fun Factory!" she says brightly. "My name is Christine. How may I help you?"

The devochka and I, we only look at each other.

"Ah...um, no. We're not—" the devochka begins, glaring at me. She turns back to the woman and I can tell she is trying hard to keep a smile on her face.

"We are just looking right now, yes?" I say to the devochka.

"Well, what are you looking for?"

The devochka glares at me like maybe she wants to kill me, then turns back to the woman. "We're still trying to figure it out," she tells her.

"Would you like to avail of our Frequent Shopper Card? You'll get ten percent off on your next purchase."

"Uh, no thanks. We don't really live around here." She glances at something at the back of the store. "Maybe we'll just check out the DVD section over there," she says quickly, gesturing to the shelves.

"Well, you two better come with me," the woman says, still smiling. She could be helping us look for things in the supermarket the way she is talking to us. America is strange. We do not have this in Russia.