The Scent of the Monster _ Aita's Children

Chapter XIV _ Burnt-out Youth

On September 1st, school resumed in Udine, as in every city in Italy; but the air of summer adventure still lingered. A group of schoolgirls, who overused perms and stirrup jeans, were sharing their latest emotional woes outside the gates.

"Oh my god, Robbie Williams leaving Take That in July?!"

"No way, I cried all summer."

"Lucky you, crying over singers. My mom made me cry over summer homework..."

"Did you see the video for their last song?" the first girl tried again, "'Never Forget'? I swear, I was in tears."

"Where did you see it?"

"On MTV Europe, obviously..."

"Oh, listen to this: Paola has rich people TV."

"Yeah, but that song is so boring. 'Back for Good' was way better."

"Hey, what about Alice here, with her shrunken shirt?"

"Yeah, Ali, your belly is showing."

"You guys are so dumb: this is the new fashion."

"Yeah right, the truth is you did your laundry by yourself."

"And what's that?" another pointed at her belly button, "isn't that a..."

"A piercing," Alice answered proudly, "my boyfriend did it for me. Cool, right?"

"Does it hurt?"

"Sometimes, when it bleeds, but I swear girls: by next year, everyone will have one. And there's this new awesome band."

"A new boy band?!"

"Better: it's a girl band. They're called the Spike Girls, they're gonna be huge, I'm telling you."

"Spaic gorlz? What does that mean?"

"Why are you asking her? She had a failing grade in English."

But the conversation was interrupted by a figure: "Hey, what's that girl staring at?"

"Leave her alone, can't you see her nose? She's one of those who gets beaten by her dad. Let's move away."

Indeed, Selene had been staring at them with blatant intrusion the whole time. Hearing that kind of talk made her ears bleed, and she wondered how it was possible that she and those girls belonged to the same species. The group of students had to walk around her like scared ducklings to get through the school gates.

Selene followed them with her eyes, lifting them to Malignani Institute, full of bewilderment.

This couldn't be the right place, there had to be a mistake.

She looked down again at the note Amedeo had left her. "Viale Leonardo Da Vinci, 10, Udine." No mistake; the meeting was at 8:15 in the morning. Selene had arrived a few minutes early as usual; but she hadn't expected to find the way blocked by a herd of teenagers returning to school.

She felt like a wolf in the middle of a flock of sheep, and a deep part of her seemed to urge her to bite someone. She listened to their conversations, ranging from the latest episodes of Dragon Ball Z with the epic battle against androids C-17 and C-18, to the upcoming eagerly awaited Oasis album due out in a month, and finally the Milan victory in the Serie A championship. Selene couldn't believe the amount of nonsense they were talking about. It was as if talking more fried their brains. After all, they called it the "burnt-out youth."

Selene decided to "close" her ears and, with assertive steps, followed the stream of students into the large courtyard of the technical institute. She cautiously circled the square, then tried to climb the stairs. She looked around for the librarian's scruffy wig but couldn't see him anywhere. Instead, everywhere she turned, Selene saw Invicta backpacks competing with Eastpacks, Nike and Kappa shoes on the boys' feet, and high-platform Buffalo sneakers for the girls. And then the smells overwhelmed her to the point of dizziness: it was a cacophony she wasn't used to. The hair smelled of wet-look Gomina gel, and Pantene mousse to puff up curls. The stench of sweat, Big Babol, cigarettes, Tic Tac, and lip balm.