I studied at School 35, how about you?» «Me too,» Anton raised his eyebrows, looking at the girl. Quite a strange coincidence, but anything can happen in life. Surprisingly, their names were also the same. Anton and Antonina, as if there were no other names in the world. But this fact doesn’t hinder lovers from being together! They had met not so long ago in a store. It was a silly story, but apparently, fate found no better way to bring them together in such a place. He couldn’t choose which olives to buy, and the girl, passing by, simply recommended the right brand. And so they struck up a conversation and exchanged contacts. Who knows how each meeting will end, so when Anton asked her out, Tonya agreed. The man had already experienced marriage, felt the everyday life and betrayal, but Tonya hadn’t been on that side yet, not rushing anywhere in life, believing that happiness would certainly find her. And now it was their fifth date. Anton looked his age at 35, having managed to develop a small belly and baldness by this time. Thanks to his father’s genes, where men started balding at the age of thirty. A brunette with hair remaining around his head, about 180 cm tall, and as his ex-wife said: quite handsome, but that didn’t stop her from having an affair. Add to this his well-read nature, sense of humor, and good manners, and he was quite a catch.
Tonya, on the other hand, was a decade younger. A beautiful girl with thick chestnut hair to her shoulders, a slim figure, and expressive brown eyes. Her smile, as she said herself, was her calling card, and Anton noted it. She indeed could charm anyone. The man liked her naivety, but Tonya was not foolish. Her second calling card was the elegance of her speech; he drowned in her voice, dissolved in it, and wanted more. «Do you remember Rimma Petrovna?» Anton decided to delve into memories. «Yes-yes,» Tonya smiled, «she still has that wig,» she gestured with her hand over her head, and they laughed. «Anton Pavlovich?» «Chekhov?» Tonya didn’t understand. «Homyakov.» «The labor teacher,» the girl nodded. «Yes, he was with the boys.» They walked through the park, holding hands, discussing their plans for the future. Anton liked how Tonya talked about life, dreams, and goals, and her love for literature. It turned out Tonya didn’t just read; she even had her own books, which were quite good, judging by the number of people reading her on the internet. She was an amazing girl: bright, gentle, purposeful. And Anton realized: the fear of a second marriage was fading, replaced by the confidence that not all women are the same. One day, sitting at Tonya’s place, they decided to look through old photo albums. «How lovely you were,» Anton complimented. «And now?» Tonya decided to catch him in his words. «And now simply a beauty!» Tonya lowered her gaze, warmed by his flattery. She liked the man. She didn’t feel the age difference because it was cozy and homely next to Anton. There was no need to pretend to seem better, just being oneself was enough. «It can’t be!» Anton was so shocked he couldn’t believe his own eyes. Before him was his photo from the First of September, when he had moved to the 11th grade. Rather, almost the same one, taken from a different angle, but there was no doubt, in the photo he was with an unfamiliar girl. The slightly faded picture evoked memories from the distant past when he turned 17. The class teacher announced that Anton had the honor of carrying a first-grader. Of course! Among the five classes of graduates, only he was chosen: an excellent student with promise. There was also Romka Gorokhov, his eternal rival, but still, they chose him. Looking at the forgotten, the man involuntarily recalled memories. The day turned out to be good, warm. A white ironed shirt, black trousers with creases on the belt, shiny black polished shoes. Some girl was brought up to him, of course, he absolutely didn’t remember her, she was small, skinny, and a bit scared. She looked up at him, and he didn’t pay attention, looking for Zhenya Seryogin in the crowd. The classmate he had long liked, and on the First of September, he decided to take the bull by the horns. She laughed and rejected him, but it was worth a try, so he still remembers that day quite well. And now before him was a photo, where on the left shoulder sits a girl in a white blouse and the same stockings, a black skirt, patent leather shoes, and two incredibly big bows on her head. «Who is this?» Anton couldn’t take his eyes off the photo, still not understanding how he ended up here. «It’s me,» Tonya replied, not understanding what exactly surprised the man. He looked at the child’s face, then shifted his gaze to the grown woman. «And this is me,» his finger stopped on the seventeen-year-old boy, and a strange smile spread across his face. «How is that?» Tonya didn’t understand, pulling the album closer. She carefully studied the teenager, in whose features Anton was recognizable. «It can’t be!» now she exclaimed, shocked, looking at the man. «So…» «It’s fate,» he shrugged, still not believing what was happening. And it had to happen that Anton thought of that First of September as an important day in his life. And although Zhenya Seryogina had refused him, fate had to torment him for so many years, only now he understood that on that day he was carrying his future wife on his shoulder. And Tonya jingled a loud bell, spreading her voice around the area. They got married. It was a fairly simple wedding, but so happy. And as is proper, the bride cried, and the husband hugged her, feeling: here she is, the one given by fate. For the second time in his life, Anton held a bride in his arms, only with one difference: now they knew each other. Now Tonya and Anton have two boys, close in age at 14 and 13 years old. The woman remained in literature, giving readers new romantic worlds, because what happened to her, you just can’t make up.
