FLOWER

CHAPTER 3.3

 I considered old tracksuits with a wide, washed sweatshirt to be decent clothing. Comfort above all. So I watch my sister's actions with wide open eyes. Isn't he cheating on me sometimes? I scratch my head thoughtfully. Where are we really going?

Literally, Nasturcjas clothes cover every flat surface in her room. And she looks at all this with a grimace of disgust, tapping her foot. Finally, she pulls out a brand new navy blue set of leggings and a top from the depths of her suitcases. The latter covers a bit more than the average bra. But all I need is her smile and the candles in her eyes when she looks in the mirror. Then she braids two thin braids on one side and finally connects them with the rest of the hair into a ponytail. The hairstyle is pampered by letting out a few strands of hair near the face. Stupid me, I consider this the end of my sister's preparations. But I'm wrong. She takes her handy cosmetic bag and spreads herself out in front of the bathroom mirror. Every movement of her hand is worthy of the precision of the greatest painters. Unfortunately, like every outstanding creator, he knows when to finish his work. Yes, my sister doesn't have this skill yet. And this work was suitable for a party in a very, very dark club. Preferably with a power outage, as a safeguard.

Nasturcja asks, glancing at me fleetingly.

- Are you going to change?

- I'm ready now. - One eyebrow touches her hairline.

- It's not funny, don't even joke about it. - She looks at himself in the mirror one last time. Then he turns serious, glancing at me. Finally, the inexorable truth dawns on her. - You really want to tell me that you want to show up like this with me in a new place! With new perspectives! - I'm starting to worry about your sanity, sister. Did you see this town when we came here?

- You're not going to work out at the gym, are you! - She says, lowering her voice to a whisper as she walks towards me. The corners of her mouth are raised unevenly to form a smile, her eyebrows form one thin line with her eyes.

- What do you think people are doing there? - I ask, and her pupils narrow even more. I admonish myself in spirit. She didn't kill me before then she won't do it now either.

- Seriously, after that mess in the garden. I can't lift a finger. We go hunting, or maybe look at tasty morsels. This place has to make a living from something.

-I'll be your background.

- I won't show up with you as long as you continue to pretend to be a vagabond. - She adds in a pleading tone with hands folded in prayer. - Change at least one thing.

I can be persuaded to wear a fitted black T-shirt. My sister finally notices me glancing at her every now and then.

- Okay, come on. I'm prepared.

- If your goal was to age twenty years, you succeeded. - With each of my words, the corners of her mouth turn up and eventually set her eyes on fire.

- I want to look a little more mature. - He replies in a nightingale voice.

- Makeup will work too well.

- Let's go. - She orders and I have to follow her.

Mom meets us in the corridor. He blinks a few times to make sure it's not a hallucination. He takes a breath and begins in a tone that acknowledges no objection.

- Nasturtium, I know I may not be familiar with today's fashion, but you look terrible. You have to wash it off your face.

Mum tenses all her muscles, pointing with her whole hand to her sister's bathroom. She already knows it too well, she won't go there on her own.

- Daddy! - Two insults are too many for one day.

- Yes, little flower. - A voice comes from the living room.

With a trembling lip and a glassy look, she moves towards the savior, and we follow her. Yeah lying in an armchair, unaware of anything, he follows the footballers on the TV. You're about to find yourself in an unenviable situation. He'll have to appease two women at once. About two different views on a given situation. And one is already in front of him and asks in a sweet voice.

- How do I look? - father has not yet noticed that the words are to him. - Daddy, what do I look like? - Finally he glances. My niece is grasping at the last resort with a face like an angel's.

- Beautiful flower! - If one day he says it's ugly, I'll write it down in my calendar.

- Can I really go out like that?

- Yes.

Dad glances at Nasturcja again and finally meets Mum's stern gaze. He turns uncertainly towards the TV. There is always hope after all, maybe she won't tell him anything. Smiling, sister flies out of the living room on invisible wings.

- Bożedar! Why did you let her? She looks like a witch. - It's time to go. I leave the room silently.

- Dearest, that's why. It will discourage all bachelors. Even the outfit can't make up for it.

He needs to try harder. Mom won't forgive him that easily. I quickly rush to the bike.