2

Pulling the back of her slip-on onto her heel, Leah awkwardly galloped on one leg to the front door and, finally taking off her shoes, impatiently ran out onto the porch. A quietly humming car was already waiting in front of the house, driven by a sleep-deprived father. He yawned sleepily and didn't even try to cover his mouth with his hand.

- Why so early? “Normal people sleep until ten in the morning,” Leah wheezed displeasedly, plopping down in the back seat. - And I’m not averse to it until noon.

“Who gets up early,” Marcus began.

“He’s annoying everyone,” Leah finished and immediately heard an approving chuckle.

In their family, only the mother was an early bird, rising, if not with the first rays of the sun, then certainly no later than seven in the morning. Of course, she tried not to make noise for the first two hours after waking up. But, starting from nine in the morning, her “turbo cleaning lady” mode turned on: the vacuum cleaner roared, the coffee grinder rattled, and this whole farce was well flavored with pop music pouring from the home theater speakers. It was certainly difficult to sleep in such conditions. Especially Leah, who leaned her head against the pillow closer to dawn - that’s why there were already chronic dark circles under her eyes.

Finding herself in a quiet and warm environment, she almost dozed off when the passenger door opened and Kayla sat in the front seat, as usual, lingering over the mess. She smelled of floral perfume, which suddenly, completely imperceptibly, filled the interior of the car with its subtle aroma, displacing the musty smell that had stood before.

-Are we late? Can we get to the center in twenty minutes? — looking at her wristwatch, she asked worriedly.

“As far as I understand Hugo, it’s about seven kilometers from our house to the center,” Marcus answered, gently pressing the gas pedal. - We'll arrive in about ten minutes.

- Great. We need to make a good impression of ourselves.

Switching to her handbag, Kayla took out a pearlescent sheen from it. And, looking in the rearview mirror, she applied it over her lipstick, thanks to which her beautifully contoured lips instantly slipped to the level of being stained with grease. And then her gaze suddenly shifted to her daughter, who did not have time to turn away in time.

- Leah, have you combed your hair at all? What's that crow's nest on your head? Come on, turn around,” she waited until her demand was fulfilled with an extremely sour face, and exploded with even greater indignation: “You went to bed with wet hair?!” How many times do I have to tell you that you can’t be so careless about your appearance! And not even because you are a girl. Everyone is always greeted first by their clothes. If you look repulsive, no one will ever be interested in your undoubtedly richest inner world. You understand me?

- Yes.

“Then what’s stopping you from devoting ten minutes to your appearance in the morning?”

- Nothing.

“Again, your monosyllabic answers,” Kayla sighed frantically and fell silent, looking at Leah in the rearview mirror. “My heart just bleeds... Such a beautiful girl with regular facial features and bright, unusual eyes...” she sighed again expressively, obviously still not wanting to come to terms with the idea that not everyone in this world wants to look attractive . - Why don’t you appreciate what you have at all? Where does this devilish skill come from in you to hide such beauty behind untidiness?

“Don’t get started, my dear,” Marcus said gently, without taking his eyes off the road.

- How can you not get excited, Mark? I buy her tons of hygienic lipsticks, and look at her lips - they’re all chewed to the bone.

“I use them,” Leah muttered tiredly, well aware that at the moment she could no longer reach her mother. Another round of hysterics arrived on the topic: “my unreasonable daughter is being prevented from turning into a Barbie doll.”

- Somehow it’s not noticeable at all. Okay, you better tell me when we finally go to the hairdresser to get our hair done? Your short bob already reaches your shoulders. And the roots have grown a lot. If you like blonde curls and a black crown, then you can leave it, but make a softer transition. It's quite popular with girls your age these days.

— I don’t know, today I want to take a walk around the city.

—Won't you go shopping with us? Do you have any money? — Without waiting for an answer, Kayla took a couple of bills out of her wallet and handed them to her daughter. — Did you take your phone with you? Keys?

“For everything, yes, thank you, Mom,” taking the unusual pieces of paper with the name of the currency of a foreign country, she turned to her father: “Dad, drop me off here, I’ll walk a little.” If anything, I remembered the way home: straight and straight again.

Marcus smoothly braked near the sidewalk, turned around and said with a warm smile:

- Be smart, be careful on the roads.

- Yes, a car is a rare beast here. During this time, two dilapidated pickup trucks drove past us. After such accurate and comprehensive information, do you still doubt my attentiveness?

- Okay, okay, see you in the evening. If you get lost, call.

Nodding, Leah got out of the car, quietly slamming the door behind her. And, having waited until her parents set off into the distance inaccessible to the eye, she breathed a sigh of relief.

They are good - but too different.

***

Walking along the cobblestone sidewalk, barely touching the metal railings covered with cracked and peeling paint with her fingers, Leah looked at the pockmarked surface of the water. The restless river stretched towards a gray-pink horizon streaked with scanty clouds: thin and translucent, like a sweet cobweb on the rim of a machine that creates cotton candy. The predawn twilight impressed her so deeply that for the first time since she learned about the upcoming move, she felt pleasant peace and gratitude towards her parents. For a brief moment, she even had the thought that such a radical change of place of residence was not such a bad idea.

From the descent from the pavement, long cozy streets with low brick houses stretched in different directions. People hurrying about their business rushed past, not noticing the beauty of the windows of private shops, decorated with overgrown shoots of ivy, tiled canopies or wooden signs. They also ignored home coffee shops, hidden behind flower beds with lush, ever-blooming shrubs. And certainly no one cared about the figured windows and small open balconies with wrought-iron fences facing the roadway, which Leah looked at with a mixture of surprise and admiration.

Retro garlands and decorative lanterns hung from tree branches near the paved two-lane road. In the evenings, the wide sidewalks were probably immersed in a warm, enveloping light emanating from these walnut-sized light bulbs and colorful shop windows inviting guests.

Due to the modest population figure, she initially had the wrong impression of the seaside town. I imagined a forgotten wilderness without a hint of civilization. But in fact, Mirox turned out to be much more interesting than any modern urban masterpiece with monotonous boxes of skyscrapers in a web of immortal asphalt and faceless sidewalks. Even the weather, which was too cool for a late summer day, was to her liking. You could feel the atmosphere of your favorite time of year - autumn.

Leah's gaze, wandering through store windows, was caught by two paintings in gilded frames, hanging surrounded by shelves of books and art supplies.

One of the works depicted a red-haired girl in a short shirt. She was sleeping and at the same time floating in the air, touching the muddy surface of the swamp water with her fingertips and feet. It was as if invisible hands were grabbing her under the lower back, and she, bending in a shape unnatural for the spine, remained frozen in time. Another work was a parody of the “Vitruvian Man”, only instead of a man, the figure of a naked woman was placed in a circle and square. Women with the face of a child and the body of an old woman.

- Like? — a pleasant girlish voice next to your ear ingratiatingly asked.

Leah shuddered and turned around sharply, meeting her gaze with cat-like squinting, brightly painted brown eyes. Any person would have been embarrassed by such close attention, which the stranger generously bestowed on her, which is why, with her tongue stiffened with excitement and slightly slurred, Leah admitted:

- More than. Especially the picture with the sleeping girl, with its... somewhat depressing atmosphere. And from a technical point of view: to paint so many small details with oil paints is impressive.

— You speak like a person who understands a little about art. Do you draw?

“Only a little bit of graphics, very far from painting, or rather, I’m not good with my hands,” she honestly admitted, fleetingly looking at her interlocutor, especially her acid-pink hair. She was always attracted to people of informal appearance and, as often coincided, non-standard views. But going up to speak to them first was an almost impossible task for her. - Are these your works?

“You can say that,” the stranger smiled mysteriously and, holding out her palm, said affably: “Yuna.”

“Lia,” having introduced herself to each other, Leah clumsily shook hands, feeling her hand being gently but firmly squeezed by strong fingers. — It’s hard to tell from the contents of the display case—is this a bookstore or an art store?

Instead of answering, Yuna looked at her unblinkingly, as if she was trying to look through her eye sockets into her skull. Due to the prolonged silence and continuous staring games, it gradually began to seem that the topic she raised had some kind of personal, incorrect character. Under such a gaze, even an innocent question about time can seem terribly vulgar.

Finally, after long, unnerving minutes, Yuna’s thoughtful voice sounded, instantly burying the awkwardness that had blossomed between them:

— I would call this place a paradise for “not like everyone else.” But few of those “not like everyone else” would actually want to go to heaven (in the original sense of the word).

— Quite an abstract definition, but I think I like it.

“Come on, I’ll buy you some coffee,” a satisfied smile stretched across her plump lips, and she moved towards the door of the shop.

Seeing her in full growth, in a floor-length black ascetic dress with long sleeves, Leah frowned, trying to understand why the clothes looked painfully familiar. As if she often noticed it on someone, but this someone was always absolutely not interesting to her.

Huge bookshelves stretched over two floors. They were separated by a platform supported by metal supports, fenced with railings that barely reached the waist. It ran along the entire wall and ended with stairs located on both sides of the entrance. In the center on the ground floor there were square sliding tables surrounded by soft-looking chairs and a high bar counter, behind which Yuna was busy preparing coffee.

“It’s a pretty cozy place,” Leah said, looking around. — I would stay to live here.

The muted yellowish light emanating from numerous pendant lamps and floor lamps near the benches facing the shelves, both on the first and second floors, created a special atmosphere in the store.

“As you can see, this is primarily a bookstore, but with a small cafe and a limited assortment of art supplies,” Yuna shook her head towards the corner with a glass display case and a free-standing double-door cabinet. — There is the bare minimum: some paints, pencils, crayons and brushes. The paper, by the way, sucks, but I will soon take up this business as soon as profit allows.