How much I remember myself, I am friends with Denis, whom all friends call Melon. Mom tried several times to correct us: “Why Melon? At least Danya.” But there was the usual: “Melon”.
We live in the neighborhood, but we study in different schools and in different classes: Melon is a year older than me. We never quarrel, although parents sometimes try to impress one or the other, that we do not fit together. True, it was before. Now everyone agreed with everything.
Melon is a great friend, we have common interests, we like the same films, especially cartoons, but we are completely different. I treat girls as much as boys, and he is in love with Galka’s neighbor. I do not understand this, but I try to pretend that everything is fine. More: Melon absolutely does not like to read and generally learn. When it’s time to do homework, he can cry. For him that English, that Russian, that Ukrainian – all languages, as foreign. Actually, he’s an inquisitive guy and he listens to my retelling of books read with pleasure. Both of us are fond of different chemical experiments, most often secretly from adults. Once during this experience something exploded in the hands of Melon. He strongly burned his face, had to call an ambulance. In the hospital, they longed to ask: “How did this happen?” And my friend answered firmly: “