We spent what felt like an eternity winding through the resort grounds, constantly taking wrong turns, which drove my father absolutely mad. Just like in the old days, he started muttering curses under his breath whenever the car ended up in yet another dead end. Then, with an exaggerated huff, he would slam the gear shift into reverse, trying to navigate us back to the main road.
'The layout here is a disaster. They could've at least put up some signs,' he grumbled louder this time as he turned to check the rear view. 'Oh, for—damn it!'
He hit the brakes hard, jolting me forward in my seat. If not for my seatbelt, I would've definitely smacked my forehead against the dashboard. A bruise right before graduation—how delightful.
A car horn blared behind us. Annoyed, I twisted around, fully prepared to glare at the cause of all this trouble—only to lock eyes with a painfully familiar gaze.
My stomach dropped.
Stan didn't waste any time—he was already standing right by my father's car. I hurriedly glanced around, checking to see if there were any witnesses who might find it odd that the driver of a luxury sedan had, in the blink of an eye, somehow moved from behind the wheel to our car. Satisfied that we were alone, I shot him a look he very much deserved.
Stan, however, merely stretched his lips into a soft smile—an unspoken apology for his little mishap. Then he gestured for me to roll down the window.
Fine. If he wanted to hear a few choice words, I was more than happy to oblige.
'Have all the Smirnovs lost their minds lately?' I snapped, making my irritation clear. 'Someone could've seen you.'
Stan rested his hands on the door and leaned in, bringing our faces dangerously close.
'Violetta uses telekinesis on people all the time,' he said, his breath warm against my skin. 'I don't recall you ever scolding her for it.'
'Viola is a lost cause,' I retorted.
Stan smirked. 'Lucky for you she took a different car and didn't hear that.'
'Oh, and what would she do? Open a door for me with telekinesis? Because heaven forbid she use her actual hands like a normal person?'
His smile faded. He studied me with a furrowed brow, as if he couldn't believe what he'd just heard.
'You've changed.'
I opened my mouth, ready to remind him of the wall I had built between us ever since Kaandor first showed me what it truly meant to be a she-wolf.
But Kostya had run out of patience.
'Alright, lovebirds, you've got a whole week to chat,' my father cut in.
I cringed.
He noticed and rolled his eyes, as if he had to endure scenes like this ten times a day. The reality, though, was that Stan and I had barely spoken since the open day at school.
What was the point in pretending to be friends when my heart had always wanted more?
Once, I had already been burned. Sure, that love had been little more than an illusion, forced upon me by someone else's will, but the betrayal had stung all the same.
I knew Stan wasn't looking for anything serious—he never had been, not with me, not with anyone. So why torment myself by playing at friendship when deep down, I would always long for something more?
I didn't want to rob myself of the chance to meet someone else—to truly fall in love with a person who was actually capable of returning it.
And if my mind and heart remained locked in orbit around Stan, like the moon around the earth, my chances of that ever happening would soon shrink to nothing.
I couldn't let that happen.
I mustn't love him, no matter how much I wanted to.
With him, I could be my true self—no masks, no pretending. I didn't have to hide Kaandor.
My father liked Stan, and for some reason beyond my understanding, Kostya had trusted him from day one, as if he had figured everything out before I had.
But we couldn't be together.
At least not now, not while we were still so young, with our whole lives ahead of us.
In Stan's case, perhaps even an eternity.
'Stan, have you figured out how to get to that bloody main building yet?'
'Yeah, of course. I've already been home twice to grab my things,' he sighed, running a hand through his overgrown fringe to push it back from his face. 'Diana still can't decide which dress to wear to the dance. Looks like she's bringing them all. Just follow me.'
Before leaving, he suddenly reached out and flicked my nose.
I could swear I had never wanted to rip his head off more than in that moment.
'See? I still remember how to walk like a normal person,' he said with a wink, before strolling leisurely back to his car.
I glared after him, already picturing the satisfying moment when I'd give him a good smack upside the head at the hotel—or maybe even bite his head off entirely.
'That can be arranged,' a growl echoed in my mind.
'Kaandor, no!' I blurted out instinctively.
The spirit only laughed.
He was clearly in a good mood, thoroughly enjoying himself. The real issue was that I could never tell whether his threats were genuine or if he was just messing with me until it was too late.
Not the time for jokes, you idiot.
As if I wasn't already worried that my emotions might get the best of him and lead to the complete destruction of the spa complex.
I watched Stan carefully, making sure he wouldn't pull any more tricks.
Once he was in his car, he started off slowly, manoeuvring carefully around my father's vehicle.
As soon as the road cleared, Dad wasted no time in following him, keeping enough distance to avoid losing sight of him.
After a few more minutes of winding along the resort's maze-like roads—where I hadn't spotted a single soul—we finally caught sight of the building we were looking for.
I recognised it immediately—not from any signage, but from the crowd gathered beneath the entrance canopy.
A mix of students stood there, some with suitcases, others with duffel bags, clustered together with their parents.
As we pulled closer, I realised there were too many people.
And worse—some of the faces were unfamiliar.
That struck me as odd.
'I thought the resort hadn't officially opened yet? Wasn't our class supposed to be the first to stay here?'
'The headmaster never could keep his mouth shut when it came to showing off,' Dad muttered, eyeing the crowd with evident displeasure. 'Maria mentioned after the parents' meeting that a volleyball team from Novosibirsk and a martial arts club are also having their training camps here at the same time as you lot.'
After what had happened in autumn, Mum had decided to stay in Kserton with us.
At first, she stayed with a friend—someone whose name she never mentioned, no matter how subtly I tried to ask.
But by the second month, Kostya had started offering more and more often for her to move in with us.
There was a spare room in the flat, though at the time it was mostly used for Dad's hobbies—fishing gear, football memorabilia, that kind of thing.
Mum refused for a long while, preferring instead to show up at our door in the mornings, ringing the bell as if it were completely normal to wake everyone up and then waltz into the kitchen to make breakfast.
One morning, she made the mistake of showing up after Kostya had finished a night shift.
He was in no mood for games.
Without a word, he shoved a set of keys into her hand, muttering that she could come and go whenever she pleased—but only if she let him have his rare moments of sleep in peace.
I remained the only person in the family who could cook something decent, but Maria didn't give up trying, and over time, she even managed to make a fluffy omelet and pancakes for breakfast. It was clear she was trying to do something, since she couldn't save me from my father's fate, but none of us could oppose destiny or change the decisions that had already been made. All we could do was play the family game, hoping that the mistakes of the past would leave the future in peace.
"And how is this related to the director's bragging?"
"Very simple: the volleyball coach is her husband, and her son is in the martial arts club. You should understand that Tanya almost got expelled from school in her final year because of her mischief. She wouldn't have been needed at any other school after that, let alone university! Her father did everything to make the director back off and let his daughter live in peace."
"Do you feel sorry for her? Do I need to remind you that Tanya spread rumors about me?"
Finding a suitable spot, my father began parking the car.
"And not a word she said was true," he muttered, focusing on the side mirror, "she's still young, foolish. Hormones are playing tricks on her."
I crossed my arms over my chest, not believing my ears. Oh, of course, let's excuse Rostova's antics. Maybe we should feel sorry for her and forget everything?
"Do you have any idea what I've had to go through because of her?"
Kostya frowned.
"But you still talk to her, don't you?"
"Yes," I hesitated for a second, not wanting to explain the thousand and one reasons why I still tolerated Rostova's presence in my life. "But it's out of necessity. It's different."
"The longer you compromise and keep doing things you don't want to do, the harder it will be to make peace with your conscience later."
Dad shifted the gear into neutral, pulled up the handbrake, turned off the engine, and unbuckled his seatbelt.
"Let's go slowly." He glanced around at the people standing under the canopy. "And why is everyone still outside?"
I didn't have an answer to Kostya's question. I got out of the car and walked under the canopy, quickly zipping up my coat to keep warm. The evening weather, for the end of June, was surprisingly cool. The sunset was tinged with red on the horizon, preparing to hand the world over to the night. The feathery clouds grew more transparent, as if a playful boy with a kite was scattering them like a flock of birds far above. The quiet, calm area away from the city tried to immediately inspire trust in the visitors, luring them with atmospheric views, but something inside me resisted being here. Over the past few months, I had become so used to expecting a catch from life that I had forgotten what it was like to just live in the moment.
Dad was walking behind me, rolling a suitcase with the handle extended all the way out. Kostya was almost catching up, scanning the area, as though looking for someone. Suddenly, his surprised gaze stopped to my left, and I quickly turned around: Stas was approaching, holding at least ten garment bags over his arm. Well, Diana really went all out!
"Don't say anything," Stas warned before we could shake off the shock and find the right words.
"Oh my God, how much does she need?" I couldn't help it, and Smirnov glanced cautiously toward the entrance. He could've at least hidden it all in the suitcase. "Everyone will see, and they'll probably be gossiping about it all evening."
"Is it really so hard, if I ask you to keep quiet, to leave your comments to yourself?" He squinted, still searching for someone among the others waiting, and leaned toward me, speaking more quietly. "If something can cheer up my sister, I don't care what she asks for: even if she wants me to climb Mount Everest and grow a ton of green apples there. I'll do it for her. And I don't care how it looks to anyone else."
"An apple tree is unlikely to survive that kind of cold," I said, smiling awkwardly, trying to turn the conversation into a joke, remembering how harsh Stas could get when it came to his family.
"Asya! Stas!" Kostya called to us, already halfway to the entrance. "Are you coming?"
Stas moved toward the others, leaving my last remark uncommented. He didn't even bother to act like carrying all of Diana's dresses was heavy, which any regular person probably couldn't manage, and still walk with such a light stride. But Stas didn't know this because he had never been human. So many strange things people don't notice when observing the Smirnov family from the outside: a vampire family, time and again, easily disrupted the normal order of things just by their presence in reality. As the saying goes: if you want to hide something, leave it in plain sight. Perhaps I was being too harsh on the guys, noticing every imperfection in their story, but people really didn't pick up on the oddities breaking through the fabric of existence. They jumped out at me as a challenge, because now I felt a responsibility to preserve the shared secret: if the world found out about vampires, werewolves and witches would be in danger, and therefore — my entire family. I couldn't let that happen.