I was wandering the hallways of the university, a stack of grade books tucked under my arm, printouts for the next seminar clutched in my hands, and the lingering taste of a god-awful sandwich from the cafeteria in my mouth—a sad substitute for both breakfast and lunch. Nice to meet you—this is Yana Horobets in all her glory. I suppose this is the part where I should describe what I look like, but thanks to some serious self-image issues, I’m afraid I’d just paint the wrong picture. Just take another peek at the book cover—yep, that’s me smiling there. So, where was I? Sorry, I got sidetracked… It’s not every day you write a book about yourself. Oh, right, I remember now…
I poked my head into yet another classroom, hoping to finally track down the professor I needed. But nope… empty again. Seriously, what kind of idiot bird pecked at my brain when they were picking a class rep back in freshman year? Riding high on post-high-school enthusiasm, I—young and naive—decided to show off my leadership skills, stand out (or, let’s be real, showboat) among my classmates, and make a name for myself by snagging such a prestigious role. Ugh… things didn’t quite turn out as planned. Being class rep isn’t glamorous; it’s a total headache. You turn into the keeper of classroom keys, the professors’ personal errand-runner, and sometimes even the middleman between teachers and slackers who want to “quietly sort things out.” Worst of all, I’m stuck with this burden until I graduate—everyone else figured out pretty quick how thankless this gig is, and no amount of begging can convince anyone to take my place. Alright, I’ve vented enough. Feels kinda good to get that off my chest. Anyway, it’s not like I’ve got forever to suffer: fourth year just started, then there’s a year and a half of grad school, and I’m free from this slavery.
I spotted one of my classmates. Victoria was perched on a windowsill, staring into her phone’s front camera while applying lipstick.
“Hey!” I called out, trying to grab her attention.
She tilted her head at different angles, checking if the lipstick was even, before finally responding.
“Hey,” she sighed, fluttering her long, fluffy lashes. “What do you want, Horobets?”
“Have you seen Anton Pavlovich?”
“Who’s that supposed to be?”
I rolled my eyes. And yet, people like her expect me to negotiate decent grades for them during finals.
“Our advisor, actually.”
“Like I’m supposed to know everyone by name… You mean the tall, skinny guy? Nah, haven’t seen him.”
“Got it. Well, I won’t keep you…”
“Thanks.”
There were just a few minutes left until the next class. I could’ve checked a couple more offices, but suddenly, I froze, unable to move. You know those movie moments where everything slows down as the local heartthrob walks past the main character? Like, the world stops, sounds fade, and he’s just basking in sunlight, sliding his gaze over her as he passes by. Well, that’s pretty much what happens to me every single time. Max Bykov—my total addiction. He seemed perfect, from the tips of his hair down to the laces on his sneakers. God really went all out when He made him. Looks, build, charisma—everything tuned to shatter girls’ hearts. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, soaking in the moment and the thousand goosebumps prickling my skin. If only there were some romantic background music… Instead, all I got was Victoria’s mocking laugh.
“Pick your jaw up off the floor, Horobets!” she shouted right in my ear.
I snapped back to reality and immediately buried my nose in my notes. The crowd swallowed Max up, and the magic dissolved.
“You’re imagining things…” I mumbled. “I wasn’t looking at him.”
“Oh, come on. During my relationship with Max, I got used to fangirls like you.”
Fangirls? No way… I’m just… just a little in love. For, like, a year. Or two. And in those brief windows when Max Bykov doesn’t have a girlfriend, I get what you might call an acute flare-up of my condition.
“Why’d you two break up?” I blurted out without thinking.
Victoria’s eyes widened. She clearly wasn’t expecting that kind of boldness.
“None of your business,” she scoffed. Then, tilting her head with a hint of pity in her voice, she added, “But I’ll give you some advice, for old times’ sake.”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t waste your time. He’s way out of your league.”
Oh, of course. What else did I expect? What kind of friendship, what kind of advice.
“Not surprised.”
“I’m just keeping it real. I know him pretty well… We dated for six months. Max picks girls he can show off to his buddies. Ones who make people jealous. You? You just make people feel sorry for you.”
“That’s not true!” I lifted my chin and squared my shoulders. The grade books immediately slipped out from under my arm, and as I scrambled to catch them, I scattered my report papers all over the hallway. Yeah, not the best way to project confidence.
Victoria slowly crouched down beside me, making it clear she was doing me a favor.
“Sexiness and grace in one package,” she nodded sarcastically. “If I were you, I’d look for a match among the biology or chemistry nerds. Those geeks would lose it just from a girl talking to them. Give it a shot, Horobets. Maybe your soulmate’s waiting for you there.”
“Wow, it’s so cool to boost your self-esteem by tearing others down…” I hissed.
“Oh, you even talk like a nerd!”
Clenching my teeth in frustration, I snatched the grade books from Victoria’s hands. She’d better not count on me covering for her with the professors anymore. All her absences are going straight into the log! In pen! I stood up, adjusted my pants, and glanced at my watch.
“Sorry, but I’ve gotta cut this fascinating convo short,” I tossed at Victoria. “Got a ton on my plate.”
“What, you’re offended?” she asked, surprised.
“No, I just love hearing how much of a loser I am.”
“I didn’t say that. You’re not a loser…” Victoria paused, trying to come up with a way to smooth things over. “You’re just… niche. And Max is into mainstream beauty standards.”
“Mass market?”
“Hey, watch it with the labels!” she exclaimed, though she cracked a smile. “I’m just sharing my experience.”
And then, a brilliant idea struck my equally brilliant mind. Really, no one knows a guy better than his ex. Victoria isn’t my enemy—she’s a goldmine of information. Maybe I should tap into that resource? After all, time’s ticking. I’ve been watching Bykov for three years, too scared to make a move. And he’s already in his final year! A little longer, and our paths will split for good…
I stepped closer to Victoria and, blushing, whispered, “Are you sure you’re not interested in him anymore?”
“Not at all.”
“I’ve got a proposal…” I took a deep breath, glanced around, and finally spit it out: “Help me.”
Victoria fluttered her lashes.
“What?”
“Help me get his attention. Share some intel…”
“Why would I bother with that?”
Good question. I thought for a moment. Victoria outshone me in every way, except one… brains. It’s still a mystery how she got into the linguistics program with a vocabulary of maybe ten English words (and I’m not even sure it’s grown much in three years). If it weren’t for her paid tuition, she’d probably have been kicked out by now.
“I’ll help you with school. What subject’s giving you the most trouble?”
The beauty queen shrugged indifferently.
“I’ve managed just fine without you so far.”
“But this year, you’ve gotta write your thesis…”
“Hold up. You want Max so bad that you’re willing to write my thesis for me?”
Ugh, I should’ve hinted at a project or a presentation instead. Why did I even bring up the thesis? As if I don’t have enough on my plate already! I can barely handle my own, and now I’ll have to deal with hers too. The price is steep, but my dream is definitely worth it.
“Yeah.”
“I can’t believe this… Yana, are you nuts? You’re gonna take on that kind of hassle for… for another kind of hassle? There are tons of guys out there. Fine, I’ll introduce you to one of my friends. But why does it have to be Bykov?”
“Because no one else interests me.”
Students started filing into classrooms. Victoria and I had an important seminar coming up, and under normal circumstances, I’d be racing ahead of everyone to snag a good spot for cheating, but I had to fight the urge and wait for her answer.
“A thesis…” Victoria repeated, savoring the word. “You’ll really write it?”
“For real.”
“And prep my defense speech?”
“Of course.”
“Well, don’t let me down,” a sly smile played on her lips. “If you don’t keep your word, I’ll tell Max everything.”
“I’ll keep it, but you’ve gotta hold up your end of the deal too.”
“It’ll be tough. But honestly, it’s more interesting than writing about some analysis of English ads. Alright, I’m in.”
“Really?” I nearly jumped for joy. “When do we start?”
“First, I need to come up with a game plan,” Victoria said, checking her notes on her phone. “Hmm… Come over to my place on Saturday. I’ll text you the address later.”
“Great!”
“See you then,” Victoria patted me on the shoulder. “Gotta run now.”
“But we’ve got a seminar…” I said, confused.
“You’ve got a seminar. I’ve got a date with a basketball player,” she winked. “If anyone asks, I’m at the hospital or… Well, you know what to say. Catch ya later!”
Victoria disappeared, and I stood there for a few more minutes, unable to move—basking in my own cleverness. Aren’t I just the best?