- The lecture is over for today, - Nastya Kovaleva sat down at the table, smiling at the audience - have a good weekend for everyone, but do not forget about next week the test. All the best.
The audience was noisy, talking in many voices. The guys quickly stuffed things into bags and jumped out the door, throwing a casual "Bye!". The girls were chatting on mobile phones, fixing their hair, discussing boyfriends and other girls. Everyone was in high spirits - there was nothing left until the end of summer, and the youth with might and main came off for the weekend, leaving for picnics.
"Everything is in home," Anastasia Kovaleva involuntarily thought, filling the curriculum for the next week in her laptop. She has been working here for a little over a year, since the fourth-year student of the Faculty of Romano-Germanic Philology came to the United States on an exchange. She was offered a choice of several educational institutions and Nastya chose a college in South Carolina, where she taught a course in Russian language and literature. She liked everything here: a room in a local Ρampus and the ocean half an hour walk from the place of work with its beaches, surfers and nightclubs. The students also pleased her - diligent and quick-witted, they little resembled the "fat and stupid Pindos" whom the girl was afraid to meet in America. There were several sports teams in the college, the youth were enthusiastically engaged in baseball, rugby and basketball. Many girls also played sports or cheerleading, fit and pretty pretty. There were also stupid and fat people here, but there were none in her group - she got almost the most athletic class. The white-toothed strong guys, with the ingenuous admiration of the rednecks, looked at the beautiful Russian teacher, giving her ingenuous compliments. Nastya knew how to dress, not violating the rules of the college, but at the same time as seductive as possible.
And now she was wearing an elegant black suit, harmoniously combining rigor with openness. Her slender legs were shod in black leather high-heeled sandals that showed off graceful toes with nails painted in pink lacquer. Tight jeans successfully emphasized steep hips and a rounded ass, and a tight-fitting blouse revealed the exciting roundness of the magnificent breasts. In combination with long blond hair, plump lips and big blue eyes, the girl looked more like an actress or model than like a "teacher". Tonight she was going to go with colleagues to one of the nightclubs on the coast. Nastya was carried away by thoughts about the upcoming festivities, which she did not immediately notice how a shadow fell on the table.
-- Miss Kovaleff? - a rich chest voice made Nastya break away from the computer.
"Ah... yes, Melissa? Are you done yet? "
Nastya, not without difficulty, portrayed a friendly smile - Melissa Rice was not her favorite student. Anastasia did not consider herself a racist, but she really did not like blacks, especially women. Moreover, Melissa always argued with her teacher in pairs and was generally the most undisciplined student. At the same time, Nastya could not help but recognize her undoubted abilities - only, it seems, Melissa herself did not care about it. A top college tennis player and leader of the women's basketball team, she only saw herself in sports. Nastya once saw her on the basketball court when there was a match with a team from another college. Muscular slender Melissa was like a black lioness - furious and sexy. This made Nastya excited - and at the same time made her hate Melissa. Nastya found fault with her on every occasion - today she gave the black woman a low score for an ugly essay written after Dostoevsky.
Melissa looked at the leaf where the low mark flaunted, then shifted her gaze to Nastya, and she involuntarily flinched from the hidden rage in dark eyes.
- Is it because I'm black? - Melissa asked.
"Yeah, bitch, that's why!" - almost said Nastya.
-It's because you write nonsense, - Nastya said angrily, - how many times I advised you to take up the mind.
- Who needs your stupid writer, - Melissa said, - especially in America?
- You will remember him, - Nastya said sarcastically, - if I don't give you a normal mark. - Nastya watched with pleasure how Melissa's face changed. Her only chance is to get a scholarship. But if Nastya leaves her a low score, Melissa can say goodbye to her dreams.
- Come to class tomorrow, - Nastya said, - we'll think about what to do with you.
- Yes, I understand, - the black woman said through her teeth, - see you tomorrow, Miss Kovaleff.