Chapter 1
It was raining in Curitiba that day, so the bus’ windows were closed to keep the water from getting inside. Everyone was silent, the humid atmosphere filled with exhaustion from people who worked all day. There was a teenager on one of the seats by the window, fiddling with the zipper of her backpack and looking through the fogged glass to avoid looking at people. If she did, she would see the tired lines cutting their skin, the dark colors under their eyes, and realize she was a part of them as they were of her.
The girl would have to think about the fact that wrinkles and shadows born out of more hardwork than money were her future. Her family wasn’t rich and never would be — unless they won the lottery, but they had never been very lucky. Moreover, her non-Engineering interests would hardly make her a lot of money, to say the least. However, even though two purple circles already painted her face — I ought to sleep better, she thought —, the freshness of youth still spared her of the lines. She wondered how long it would take for them to show; not long, probably, considering the way tiredness made her bones ache a little already.
However, thinking about all that made her feel the sort of panic that almost made her pull the hair out of her own head, so her focus shifted back to the rain splashing against the window her head was leaning against. There were two drops running down the glass, reminding her of when she was younger and pretended that the drops were on a race. Her life used to be much less complicated when she was a child. Getting older must mean growing out of simplicity, she concluded.
Eventually, the bus slowed to a stop and some people started to climb in. The girl worried she would have to give her seat to someone else. Instantly, a judgmental voice that weirdly sounded like her mother spoke in her mind, You’re 16 years old, why are you so tired already? The teenager frowned, not knowing the answer. She didn’t know a lot of stuff, if she stopped to think about it. Finally, the line of people getting in was coming to an end. Her muscles almost relaxed with relief at the prospect of staying seated for a while longer. Then, a pregnant woman got in. The girl waited a few seconds, hoping someone else would offer their place. People were either looking intently at their phones or — maybe — sleeping. She had to bite back a sigh before standing up.
