MARK. Just don’t ever test me like that. You know I love you for real.
12.
MAYA. Springtime. Yana was picking her outfits with pleasure, stopped wearing pantyhose, took out her favorite light dresses. One day she went over to a new flat. She hadn’t been here before. The flat belonged to Zhora. He was Max’s older brother. A student. The only one that Ilya looked up to.
YANA. Hi there.
ZHORA. Hi. So that’s you?
MAYA. Who else would that be? He examined her head to toe. Sneered. Yana shuddered with disgust but said nothing. She was supposed to make an impression on him. Zhora was kind of skinny. It wasn’t even clear why he was so admired and respected. Must have been Ilya’s work. He would always describe their joint revelries in colors: how much they drank, who puked first, what kind of bitches there were, how much money Zhora made and what a badass IT-guy he was gonna be.
ILYA. Unlike you, fuckheads. Max, you’re lucky to have such a bro.
MAYA. Zhora looked kind of withered, like an old apple, and maybe that’s why also mean, and weak too, but no weaker than Yana. He pulled her into the closet. She was kind of protesting, for normally the lads would invite her, play out some ceremonies, or at least smile at her to show they were partners in crime. Plus, she knew them all. But this one? Zhora pressed her against the racks full of old jackets that smelled of rotten leaves and might as well have been full of parasites. He sunk his teeth into her shoulder, then her neck, arms, boobs, belly, hips. He bit her till she bled. She wasn’t screaming, but groaning…
YANA. It hurts.
MAYA. And was trying to twist out of his spider arms, but failed. He was giggling. Saying…
ZHORA. Where it hurts, there’s also pleasure.
MAYA. No one came to her rescue. Naturally, he couldn’t leave her dress alone either and tore as much of it as he could. Roughly bent her over. But she failed to remember what was happening next, so repulsive was the stench of those old jackets that she was being pushed against in spurting moves. Then they walked out together. The others were watching soccer in the living room. Ilya sharply turned his head towards them for a second and stared back at the TV screen. In that short glance Yana managed to catch a flicker of jealousy. And fury.
YANA. Oh, finally. Maybe he does need me after all?
MAYA. And Max was right there, stoned and giggling.
MAX. Yana, what’s that?
ZHORA. Period.
ILYA. Zhora, the girl’s on her period, leave her alone. Yo, where the fuck are you running, faggot! Lay off!