Hlopik: переводы

→The friend skillfully rolled an enormous joint, and the boys took it outside, going out the same door we'd come in. Bastien and I exchanged glances, both of us barely holding back hysterical laughter. We walked into the still-dark living room and stood at the window, watching the boys outside. They left all the outdoor lights off, not wanting to attract neighborly attention. The joint made a pinpoint of orange light in the blackness as they passed it back and forth.

→They huddled around the kitchen table. Reese produced a tin of rolling papers and a plastic Baggie with enough marijuana in it to keep a family of five stoned for a week.

→"Okay. But roll it in here."

→Reese glanced around. "Outside. Otherwise they'll smell it later."

→I hadn't really seen Reese yet and was curious. I'd expected a clean-cut, dutiful altar-boy type, but he seemed perfectly average—in that sullen, T-shirt wearing sort of way. He had Dana's black hair and blue eyes, paired with some of Bill's unfortunate facial features. His friend had long hair and wore a beat-up army coat with jeans.

→Bastien shrugged by way of answer and gestured for me to follow him the rest of the way downstairs. Reese and his friend obliviously made enough noise to cover any of our movements.

→Reese. The son. The son who was supposed to be down the street at a friend's house. That was better than Dana, but still disconcerting. I shot Bastien a questioning look. What's he doing here? I mouthed.

→Bastien grinned at me. "Reese," he breathed.

→"Where should we do it?" asked the friend.

→" Fleur , I love you as much as I've ever managed to love anybody, but this whole thing is absurd. You're never going to be happy until you've fucked this guy, so just get it over with. It'll take away the whole forbidden attraction and allow both of you to get on with your lives. "

→"Yup. They'll be out 'til, like, midnight."

→"You sure they aren't coming home?" asked an anxious voice.

→He grabbed my arm, and we crept out into the hallway where we could hear more clearly.

→Bastien frowned, apparently trying to discern the words below. "Those are all male voices. Not Dana. Come on."

→"What are we going to do?" I whispered. Invisible we might be, but I still didn't want to slink through the house with others around. It would also make leaving inconspicuously a problem.

→We stood rooted in the bedroom, frozen, both of us too terrified to blink. Downstairs, the door shut and footsteps could be clearly heard on the hardwood floor. A low murmur of voices drifted up, the words inaudible.