Natasha, the pet
“To get back to youth, we just have to repeat our follies”
- The Portrait of Dorian Gray.
The backyard of the Camila Dunas State Institute was a real nook for the discredited. In small groups, students from all of Madureira’s high school classes would gather liters of camouflaged vodka in coffee bottles and small pots brought under the cap.
My friend and I always sat behind a large bush, so our scented smoke would not catch the inspectors’ attention.
Not that it would make much difference.
“Did you hear about the Museum of Tomorrow’s tour on Thursday?” Claudio asked as he lit his cigarette. He held the smoke a little in his mouth and smiled, even without showing his teeth, with those beautiful green eyes.
- I have detention on Thursday ... - Before the brunette could answer me, we were surprised by a giant body with long spider legs. Its weight fell all over the boy who held her precisely. Of course, it was like holding a feather.
- What are my favorite losers doing here alone? - Despite the friendly smile, there was more poison in her voice than in a colony of black widows. Natasha was Claudio’s pet of the week. She was a year older than us, almost graduating, but my friend’s charm, unshaven beard, and brown curls covered by that wide cap made her euphoric.
Worst of all, she wasn’t even pretty. She looked like six feet and was almost his height, not to mention that with the fifty pounds she weighed, it was hard to understand how they went to bed without breaking her in a half. But despite the blond strands mistreated by millions of pharmacy straightenings and stark makeup at nine o’clock in the morning, Natasha was one of those girls who cut her uniform to show off a beautiful cleavage at her breasts and her entire smooth belly was exposed under a tight knot that twisted the fabric all over the shirt.
That was enough to win a week with Claudio. He was handsome, and despite the rebellious stance of one who cares about nothing, his sloppy appearance has in recent years become a gimmick. The bad boys were on the rise even in the carioca heat.
I swallowed a little deeper than I should and the smoke burned as it reached my throat, which caused an immediate cough. The blonde let out a mocking laugh, finally turning her precious attention to the ridiculous scene of me fanning the air and seeking oxygen.
“You don’t have to pretend to be someone you aren’t, Lu-ne-ta!”
I choked on hearing my name being said so deliberately. Despite being used to mockery since the world is world and school, hell, I couldn’t hide my hatred, springing up in my dark skin like little red stars.
Claudio opened his mouth to intervene, but I was faster.
- Thanks for the advice, Natasha! It makes perfect sense that it comes from someone who hasn’t taken on her own natural curls since she was ten years old and misses the first hour of the morning by millennially covering the pimple holes in her face with RubyRose. - Huffing, I jerked up, knocking away the dust of my jeans. That stupidest thing was tearing at the knees that were now full of sticky grass. - And just for the record ... It’s Luna!
With the toe of my third-hand sneakers, I crumpled the remaining stub and left those two at the mercy of their own unhealthy pleasures. Even the lab class looked attractive now.