tummy. Katya blossomed, became a cat, a short doll with the body of a small woman and the face of a teenage girl. She had freckles, whom she wildly embarrassed. Light pale scattering, dirty, under the eyes and on the cheeks, was constantly depressed by disagreement with the image of the ideal ideological beauty, immaculate, which, for example, was the best friend Masha Ostapenko. Here she was a model beauty, slim, elongated, talented fashionista from nature. Katya was more like a bear, shy, perky, touchy. Her lips missed kisses, her heart ached in anticipation. She fell in love instantly, flushed with passion, but remained impenetrable of intentions, afraid of being rejected. There was one precedent that struck her alive, since then she swore first to take the initiative. Katya already had sexual experience, a single, one might say random, about which she often regretted over the years.

Her long, even dark chestnut-colored hair fell on her back, quickly losing volume under a winter hat. Uneven parting in the center divided the curls, which Katya habitually tucked her ears when she was worried. This happened often, especially when she was called to the board or asked to read the task out loud. Then Kate was bending over her desk, because her vision had deteriorated lately. She did not want to wear glasses, and there was no money on the lenses. At such moments of extreme confusion, she breathed unevenly, clutching her palms between her knees. Gentle lips, polished with shiny gloss against weathering, imitating the color of the natural, deduced abstruse words, darted casually with a freckled nose. There was another problem that Katya was very embarrassed about: asthma attacks, not strong, but still, at times she was desperate. She could not fully exercise, often coughing in the cold air. The inhaler, which she always carried with her, acquired the meaning of a lifebelt for a drowning man. She was terribly afraid to forget or leave him at home, to lose on the street. Constantly looked into the bag to check if he was there.

But even these small by all standards, problems with eyesight and health could not be compared with the main Katina's misfortune: she absolutely had no money. Rather, her parents were poor and did not rush to give Kate money to buy clothes, even underwear. She constantly lacked, dreamed of escaping from parental care, start making money on her own, get married at last. She did not dream of a rich husband, she just wanted to plunge into passionate all-consuming love, for which her heart, like a flower, blossomed with each year of study in the most boring school.

She sewed a dress, a skirt, a blouse, because she dreamed of becoming a fashion designer, because the transcendental prices in the stores did not allow even to imagine such luxury. She was actively developing a prom dress.

At the prom she will come the most elegant, because she will figure out how to look. Plus make-up, she will ask a familiar girl, who is studying in makeup artist's courses, to make her the best makeup with rhinestones!

Katya didn’t like pale blue eyes, nor freckles. In the myopic pupils, she saw the ubiquitous specks - the smallest flaws, frightening imperfections.

It is a matter of his brother's brown eyes. Vitya was more like a mother. The same black thick brows, brown hair cap, brown pupils, prominent cheeks. Mom loved Vitya more than Katya. As a firstborn, as a son, I guess. Katya's parents were released from custody, devoting themselves to the first child. She often felt the indifference of her father and mother. No one was worried about an empty refrigerator, which is to say about grades in school.

Over the years, parents quarreled more and more, sometimes for weeks they did not talk to each other.Father, forced to retire, lost earnings. He began to spend most of his time watching TV. Regularly met with friends, drank, and then wandered around where it was unclear. He almost disappeared from the family. Not paying attention to the children before, now he did not notice them at all and spoke with delight only when, drunk, he showed off to his friends on the phone.

Mom worked at the plant as a watchman at the entrance. She got up early, went to bed early, on weekends she dreamed of the time when she would retire. She pulled the strap. All expenses fell on her sharp dray shoulders. The Molotov family could barely make ends meet. There was no question of any pocket money for Katy. Almost adult children were interrupted as best they could, realizing that the sooner they left for free bread, the better it would be for them.

Vitya studied as a programmer and already found some extra money in a small design office. This message was solemnly celebrated in the family with a bottle of champagne.

Everyone was happy, including Katya, who in this step of her brother felt a breath of fresh air for herself. Soon she will be able to find a job, possibly related to fashion. She will sew dresses! She will make her collection and take part in the Mill Maude festival. Her dress will appeal to Italian designers, Masha Ostapenko will run on the catwalk in the best outfit, will amaze the audience with natural beauty. In the end, Katya will be invited to Italy. She will get a chance to break free, get an order and draw sketches for a famous fashion house. She will become a famous fashion designer. But for this you need to learn a lot and work. She must learn a lot before she can move to Italy. Take at least a language. She and English aren’t as good as we would like. However, she would have learned Italian in six months! Italian is so beautiful language that she would teach him even at night, in a dream, without thinking about fashion. Just for my own sake. But Italian courses are also worth the money, mother never gives on courses. Katya has no cell phone. What to say about the courses. She walks in jeans and a sweater all year round, buys cloth to sew a skirt, puts off casual pennies to buy shoes, because you cannot sew shoes. For this you need money.

3

At about half past six, Vitya and Katya went to the cinema, where a group of young people were already waiting for them. Katya was wearing the omnipresent blue down jacket, a white knitted hat, old worn jeans and brown holey shoes. It was dry and frosty, so the latter’s unnoticed fact of Katya’s wardrobe inspired hope, at least for her, that she wouldn’t have to ride through puddles again, feeling her feet slowly getting cold and chomping under wet socks.

- Hey Ya! - Lesha's lover was delighted, shaking Vita's hand, clawing at Katya with greedy eyes, who was hiding behind her brother's back.

- Happy Birthday! - Vitya pulled a friend to put his arm around his shoulder.

“Meet Katia,” Ganichev threw out his hand in a businesslike manner, pointing to the guys. “This is Max, Andrei, Lena,” he said quickly.

Katya nodded, not immediately catching the names. She met with the greedy eyes of unfamiliar guys. Those who measured her by the eye, stopping views on her chest and bottom, did it so frankly, not hesitating to lick her lips, that she involuntarily reddened, and only the feeling of girlish dignity made her become smoother, put her right leg forward, as taught in defile courses which she recently looked at the video. Still, she was a beauty, what the world had never seen, and came to the Birthday specially to please the birthday man's look.

“And only!” She thought, raising a cheerful look at Lyosha Ganichev.

He fussed, busily distributing pre-purchased tickets.

The girl between high Max and bug-eyed Andrew looked at the top of the guys with a detached, indifferent look. She either missed, or she expected more from Ganichev. At least going to a restaurant.It was a slender brunette, thickly made up with black mascara, scarlet lipstick, eyebrows on the oval face that expressed nothing, with long even hair, blond hair, which lay in a hood in one flaxen wave, swam across a fur ruff, flying apart over the back ... Read more →