tenebra: переводы

→A few students groan, but I perk up. Even though I don’t look forward to school, I like my classes. Someday, I’m going to be a doctor or a research scientist. I’ll find the cure for cancer or something. I’ll give back to this world the things I’ve taken.

→“Oh.” I stare at the package.

→“I was afraid it would upset you too much to have her old things. But you’re an adult now. If you want to see them, they’re yours.”

→I frown. “You’ve kept this for six years?”

→“It’s from your mother. She gave it to me before . . .” Her voice trails off, and then she clears her throat. “She wanted me to give it to you.”

→When I see the handwriting on the top, my mouth goes dry.

→The shuffling returns. My grandmother’s face is hidden by a big box wrapped in plain brown paper. Her wrinkled, veiny hands grip it tightly.

→“This isn’t from me,” she says, placing it on the counter.

→My mouth goes dry. “I thought we agreed no gifts,” I say. I refuse to take anything but the gas money I so desperately need.

→She shuffles away from me down the hall, her slippers swishing on the hardwood. I watch her until the bright pink disappears.

→I turn away and go to the kitchen, flinging open a few cupboards. Dinner. It will occupy my hands and my mind. I survey the options for a long moment, my arms crossed. I’m not in the mood to cook anything elaborate. I only want to get the meal over with, smile in a convincing way, and retreat to my room to wait out the hours until dusk. I grab beans, corn, some dry noodles, and stewed tomatoes. I’ll throw it all together with a little bit of frozen vegetables and call it soup. Gram loves soup.

→I end up sprawled out, facedown, my backpack thrown forward. I pick up my head. Everyone is staring. Physically, though, I’m okay.

→I realize belatedly what tripped me: a foot in my path. Someone did it on purpose.

→I clench my hands, desperate to hold it together. “How long are you going to do this?”

→She tilts her head to the side and the light streaming in from their window catches the tears shimmering in her eyes. “Until I get my brother back.”

→She spins around and walks away. I want to scream at her that I want him back as much as she does, that I never wanted to kill him and she doesn’t have to keep doing this to me, but I swallow the words.

→One by one, the crowd disperses. I turn back to my locker, slam it shut, and stalk off in the opposite direction.

→I swam all night, but my stomach still churns as I walk into the doors at school, zipping up my fleece jacket as though somehow it will protect me from what’s to come. Getting through today will be a gauntlet.

→I wonder for the thousandth time if he could have loved me in that same fierce way I loved him. “Good night, Steven.”

→My voice trails off, and I drop my arm back to my side. “The guy who bought your car lives in town, you know. I see him sometimes. He’s, like, fifty. I bet he has no idea how hard you worked to restore it. Stinks that you can’t be the one to enjoy it.”