Red Smocks | Chapter 1: A Leap and a Goodbye

Federico rocked back and forth in his small chair. With the back of his neck resting against the top of the seat, he stared up at the flickering LED light of the classroom, which pulsed directly above him. To his left, a voice broke the silence:

“Fede, you know where the teacher went? I’m done with the writing assignment.”

He turned his head slowly toward Mateo, who was watching him with a hint of concern. Federico didn’t answer the question; instead, he offered a weary look before returning his gaze to the light.

Fidgeting with his pen, Mateo looked straight ahead. He reached out and tapped twice on the back of a hunched-over boy focused entirely on his phone.

“What do you want?”

“Where’s the teacher, Santi?” Mateo whispered, trying not to disturb his friend’s flow.

“No clue,” Santiago said, his eyes never leaving the screen.

Mateo stopped clicking his pen when he noticed his friend’s desk. He added one more question: “Where’s your folder?”

“In my bag.”

“You haven’t taken it out all day?”

“Nope.” Santiago let out a huff, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Mateo gave a brief smile. He slumped back into his chair and, fiddling with the buttons of his blue smock, joined his friends in the art of doing nothing.

The bell rang, followed immediately by the harsh scraping of tables and chairs. Santiago stood up, shoving his desk aside and stretching.

“We going?” Mateo asked.

Santiago looked at Federico. “Let’s go. Come on, Fede, up you get,” he said, tucking his phone away and heading toward the exit.

As if his body weighed twenty kilos more than it should, Federico obeyed. Mateo waited for him to stand, and they stepped out together into the silent hallways of Colegio Mitre. Santiago led the way, following the same route they took every day. They passed through an open black door that led to the back courtyard. Unlike the interior, the yard was flooded with sun, with small trees struggling in the dirt. Federico sat on a concrete ledge surrounding a patch of earth. He rested his head on his thighs and stayed quiet beside Mateo. Santiago stood before them, hands on hips, surveying the bleak, grey yard. Once again, they were the only ones who frequented the spot during break.

“Another shit Tuesday,” Federico muttered, face still pressed against his legs.

“Every day is shit to you,” Santiago countered, his back still turned.

“Hypocrite. You think the same thing.” Federico lifted his head. “It’s a disgrace that we come here just to… do shit.”

“Well, we did nothing today. Even the teacher bailed on the class,” Mateo added.

“It’s a drag. How much longer till we graduate?” Santiago asked.

“Like two years. This one and the next—seventh year,” Federico answered.

Santiago sighed. “Five years already…”

“Five years we’re never getting back,” Federico said.

“Still, two isn’t that much. If it stays this easy, it shouldn’t be much of a drama,” Mateo offered.

“Don’t forget that work comes after,” Federico protested.

“And with the degree they’re giving us, we’ll be lucky to end up as cab drivers,” Santiago added. “At least it’s not a technical school. That’d be double shifts and… miserable.”

“But it’s seven years anyway,” Federico clarified. “I mean, it’s basically the same.”

Santiago smiled at the sound of Federico’s constant complaining. He began to pluck leaves one by one from a tree standing beside him. As he worked, he stated, “I’m cutting tomorrow.”

“Why?” Mateo asked.

“I can’t take much more of this.”

“You’d just have to come back the day after. It makes no difference,” Federico intervened.

“At least I wouldn’t spend an entire day doing nothing.”

“Santi, you spend your time doing nothing at home, too.”

“Stick with us, Santi. We’ll suffer together,” Mateo said.

Santiago grabbed a small branch and snapped it. Even if he missed an entire week, Santiago figured he could catch up just by asking one of them for the homework.

The bell echoed again, a demand for order. As Santiago turned to his left to head back inside, the courtyard gate materialized in his line of sight. He stopped dead. With one foot in and one foot out, Mateo felt his wrist grabbed before he could fully enter the building. It was Santiago.

“What’s up?”

Federico tried to push past, but Santiago’s hand landed on his chest.

“Wait, wait, wait.”

“What, man?” Federico muttered.

“Let’s go,” Santiago suggested finally, a grin spreading across his face. “Over there. That fence, the gate. Let’s just leave.”

“Are you serious?” Federico asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, dude. We jump it—it’s a piece of cake—and we hang out outside for a while.”

“Why?” Mateo questioned.

“Why not? Look, you just jump”—he whistled—“and walk away.”

Cutting through the confusion, Federico tried to end the discussion. “No. Too risky.”

“Oh, come on! Years of doing nothing in here. You say it all the time but you never actually do anything. Whether we jump or stay, in the end, everything stays the same.”

“That’s exactly why it makes no sense to do it,” Federico argued.

“That’s exactly why it does make sense!” Santiago opened his arms as wide as he could. “We’re going to choke down two more years of school whether we want to or not.”

Mateo watched Federico. The latter went quiet, weighing his friend’s words. He looked back at the gate, scrutinizing that makeshift exit. He ducked his head, clicked his tongue, and looked up again.

"Fine…

…"

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