- Katka, you ubiiiiytsa! Where is the dress, damn it ?!
- And mine? Are you not yet ... Fuck, damn it! I finally fideu ...
- Girls, girls! Well, what a vocabulary, ë-ëë!

Everything in the Oblzhansky house was not only mixed up, but also shoveled, and turned upside down: Sandra and Mariabel Oblzhansky gathered for a great event, which was anticipated for the whole month. All this time, it was savored, thought over, discussed in every way - and despite the fact that the charges still began at the last moment.

Panties, bras, tights, ribbons, tampaxes, lipstick, mascara, eye shadows, pencils, hairpins, beads, boxes, crumpled newspapers, plates, bottles, chunks of apples, sneakers, napkins, cotton and other items were scattered throughout the house, which it was impossible to identify under the layer of all the others. Mobile phones rattled everywhere - as always, at the same time and at the most inopportune moment. The disheveled Sandra and Mariabel loafed around the apartment and snapped at each other, at the mother and at Katka, the stepsister who did not travel with them, and was mobilized into the service sector for the occasion. Mom, Evdokia Terentyevna Oblzhanskaya, whom her daughters called Dusey for their eyes, tried to keep the semblance of discipline, but all her impulses were addressed to Katya personally:

- Katerina, this is, of course, uh, not your problems, and I understand that you have other, uh, priorities, but still, if I were you, I would be the most ... bluin! You, fuck, fuck a hole in there, п pepesete!

Katka, sobering, like everyone else, patted Sankina's skirt. It was a hot May, and she had to constantly wipe her shawl glasses from sweat that leaked onto the lenses.

- Sanka, Marka ... are you, gonerous, bl ... that is, you have to think with your head! When will you start painting the muzzles? In an hour, go out! Katherine, you can not quickly, right? I understand: this is not a history Olympiad, this is life, I don’t need an aykyu, there are pens, pens ... Sanka, if you hadn’t got your hands and hooks, it would have helped, and already sit, don’t rummage, it's worse will be ... Katkaaaaaa! Ohrenella vascheee? You zagrela zagladila, fucking ...

... After an hour and a half, dressed, filled with perfume, plastered with lipstick and varnish, Sanka and Marka stood in the doorway, and Dusya fussed around trying to grab four bags of essentials:

- So, cell phones took? Deziki? ... What? Mark, you decided to groan the whole ball, right? Quickly look for a dog ... what? And how do I know where! Where she threw, there and ... Nope? Well, then you stink. Sanka, give her yours, okay? Not bliine, but - clear ?! Well...

Katka stood nearby, rubbing her glasses.

- Katyunchik, wish us victory! Smack-smack!

Sanka and Marka in turn broke up with Katka. Then Dusya leaned over to her, pecked her on the forehead and said:

- Well, with God, as they say, damn ... Girls, run into the car! ... Katyusha, you just do not overdo it, okay? Do not immediately clean up, first rest, okay? All right ... what else? Oh, well ... All right, come on, bye! Girls! ... - came from the corridor.

Slammed the door.

Katka stood motionless for some time, then turned and walked into a room littered with rags and rubbish.

She sat down at the computer and turned it on without knowing why. The desktop was loaded with Jack Sparrow - but Katka went limp on the back of the chair and did not move, looking straight ahead.

Then she closed her eyes ...

***

St. Petersburg School Ball was held in the Anichkov Palace on the Fontanka. Students of grades 9-11 in St. Petersburg schools were invited to participate in it. Participation was voluntary and, of course, very, very paid.

Ball PR in the network and on TV for a month. He was presented as an unofficial, non-corrupt alternative to Miss St. Petersburg-2013: participants could not be models, could not be in any way connected with the podium, show business and other beauty industry. They were supposed to be “simple St. Petersburg schoolgirls,” without gloss, without gloss and tinsel, “pure charm of youth multiplied by the super drive of the white nights,” as Hey put it. T.Chuchmekov, general producer of the ball.

All participants of the ball were to have a parade on stage, then several waltz tours and a buffet table, where they should have shown good manners. The chosen ones were waited by the conversation with the jury members - pop star Leopardia, photo model Maria Goloplyasova, couturier Dan Besshtanny and the head of the jury, actor Dima Chlkin, according to whom Pahr is all female sex. The Queen of the Ball, the one and only, was rewarded with the Golden Crown, and various prospects opened up before her: from a career in the world of glamor to the filming of a new film with Dima.

Sanka and Marka, recognized beauties of their school, seriously counted on victory. Katka's participation was not even discussed - neither Dusey, nor the sisters, nor herself.

Katka was a crater, botanca and officially recognized frigid board. At seventeen, she dressed in a dull unisex, wore shafts, never painted, did not do anything with hair, putting them in girl's tails, and did not show her femininity at all. She was an excellent pupil, won at all competitions, loved poems, drew, was sarcastic, silently closed, communicated exclusively in the network, and in the family she was treated as shifted.

Her father died long ago. Dusya was her stepmother and terribly proud that she did not regret anything for her stepdaughter. And in fact: she identified her to an elite school, fed her with expensive cakes, bought her equipment, sports equipment and any book she asked for. Sanka and Marka personified another expendable article: they bought brunettes, model rags, stilettos shoes and cosmetics. Katka was full, seemed to have everything she needed, and Dusya believed that her maternal conscience was clear.

... Opening her eyes, Katka stared at Sparrow’s tinted physiognomy for some time, then opened Mozilla and entered one of her blogs, which led on behalf of the mysterious beauty Adele. The blog was popular, reinforced by the “self portraits” that Adel-Katka had discovered online. After reviewing the comments absently, Katka began to write the answer - but, without adding, she suddenly opened Yandex and scored a “school ball”.

For ten minutes she studied the site of the ball. Now, when no one saw her, she could afford it. Then she cleared the magazine, got up, examined the srach around her, muttered "... in the ass" and looked out the window.

For a minute or two she looked at the yellow sky, at the thick sunset shadows, at the thick air, trembling from the heat, then grabbed her favorite little book of Blok, put it in her pocket - and jumped out of the apartment.

***

When she left the subway, a thunderstorm raged. Dung broke, like an abscess, and the city covered with lead streams, beating backhand and in the neck.

The downpour was mischievous and merciless; people screamed, hid under all sheds and jumped, squished, spanked along the muddy rivers, under which Nevsky instantly disappeared.

Shocked Katka squealed and shivered with everyone. A rainstorm burned her, immediately rolling to her underpants, and she slipped under the shed; but the excitement required decisive action, and it was unbearable to stand just like that, doing nothing. Having trampled, Katka took off her sandals, left them against the wall and jumped out under the icy streams.

She didn’t have any umbrellas - and he wouldn’t be useful: water seemed to hit from everywhere - from above, below, to the right and to the left - and Katka rushed forward, eyes widening. The shock of cold water instantly overflowed into a brutal, calf delight, and she squealed and sang, having decided that the element had canceled all propriety. She shouted “Rain! The May rain filled the sky with the call of veil ... ”, shouted to someone“ I'll show you! ”And sprayed, trying to run where it was dirtier. She was all flecked to the neck, her bare feet were burning from the water, and the wet T-shirt that stuck to her body became transparent as cellophane.

Katka did not notice that they were looking at her, and rushed forward to the plump horses of Klodt, who stood out ...