Welcome to Hell
The beep of the alarm sounded like a military order. Lucía opened her eyes with a furrowed brow, as if Monday had slapped her. Her hair was perfectly straightened from the night before, a routine she never skipped, even if a bomb dropped. She stretched lazily, grabbed her phone, and opened Instagram before even putting on her slippers. Notifications were her first cup of coffee in the morning.
— Marina wore the same top as me... — she muttered with disgust as she scrolled.
It didn’t take long for her to get ready. Lucía did her makeup like she was going to walk a runway, not to go study. Matte foundation, concealer, thin eyeliner, nude lips. Everything was measured.
In the living room, her mom was checking emails on her laptop while drinking decaf coffee. Her dad wasn’t there; he was probably already heading to the law firm.
— Classes start again today, right? — her mom said without looking up.
— Uh-huh — Lucía replied while spreading butter on a toast she wasn’t going to eat.
— Remember not to hang out with the weird ones, honey. This year is important. Avoid distractions. And please, maintain your reputation.
Lucía nodded with an automatic smile, one that had been programmed on her face since she was little.
The entrance to the school was a parade of fake reunions and forced smiles. Her group of friends was already there: Marina, Carla, and Claudia, her personal entourage since the first year of high school. Hugs, selfies, gossip. As always.
— Did you see the butt Javi got this summer? — Carla said, laughing.
— Ugh, insane. He’s totally a daddy now — Marina added, causing a burst of laughter.
Lucía didn’t laugh. She observed everyone like she was conducting a popularity audit. The new ones were easy to spot: shy, out of place, clumsy. One of them was carrying a rolling backpack. Lucía scrunched her nose as if she had just smelled something rotten.
When the bell rang, everyone started heading into the building. The 1st-year Social Sciences class was on the third floor. The elevator, reserved for teachers and “medical cases,” was never an option. Lucía climbed the stairs with a firm step, escorted by her friends.
As they entered the classroom, the desks were already marked with names. Lucía found hers: at the back, by the window, far from the teacher. Perfect. Marina was on her right. She smiled.
— This is going to be hell — Marina murmured while putting down her backpack.
— Don’t worry, I’m the devil — Lucía replied, taking out her Victoria’s Secret pencil case.
The History teacher, a skinny guy with a face that said “I’ve seen too many wars,” entered on time and began the introductions.
— This year, you’ll work in pairs for many projects, so start getting used to it. I want you to mix. I don’t want the same old groups.
Lucía rolled her eyes. The same old nonsense about “integration.”
And then, the door swung open suddenly.
A figure walked in as if she didn’t care at all about interrupting.
It was a tall girl with messy short hair. She wore a black hoodie with a skull on it, baggy pants, and headphones still hanging around her neck. She looked like she had come from another school. From another planet, even.
— You must be Paula, right? — asked the teacher, checking his list. — Take a seat. There’s one free at the back, next to...
Lucía didn’t even hear the end. Paula was walking towards her. Directly towards her.
— No. You’ve got to be kidding me — Lucía whispered to herself.
Paula dropped her backpack with a loud thud and sat down without saying anything. No greeting, no glance. She just took out a notebook and settled into the chair like she was at home.
Lucía slowly turned her head towards Marina with a look of contained panic. Her friend was trying to hold back laughter.
— Now that’s starting strong — Marina whispered.
Lucía didn’t respond. She just looked at Paula out of the corner of her eye. That outfit. That smell of men’s cologne. The way she sat with her legs open as if she didn’t owe anyone an explanation.
Her blood boiled. But she wasn’t sure if it was from anger, discomfort... or something else.
The History class was torture. She couldn’t concentrate. Every movement Paula made took her off focus. The way she wrote quickly without correcting. How she rested her chin in her hand. The way she chewed gum without caring what others thought.
A part of Lucía wanted to ignore her. Another part couldn’t stop watching her.
When the bell rang, Paula was the first to leave. Not even a goodbye.
— What a character... — Marina said while picking up her things. — She’s a lesbian, right?
— What do you think? — Lucía replied, forcing a grimace. — You can spot it from a mile away.
— What if she hits on you? — Claudia, who had approached, joked.
— She better not. I’d rather die than be touched by a dyke like that.
The girls laughed. But Lucía didn’t. Something inside her didn’t sound as clear as her voice.
She left the classroom with a furrowed brow. She didn’t understand how someone like Paula could exist... and even less, how she was going to endure her all year.
