Work Text:
Maca's POV
The alarm brought me back to reality after a night spent between drinks and laughter with Rizos and Yolanda. It was seven o' clock and in an hour I had to be ready to take the bus and go to university. It is my third year at the European School of Economics, one of the most famous in the city. I've always admired business and I can now admit that occupying a comfortable position in a well-known company one day would be a dream come true. I'm obsessed with managing my plans, if everything doesn't go according to the rules, I can't proceed. That's how I work; I am a perfectionist and many times I get reprimanded since it becomes quite exaggerated for those around me. I still haven't figured out whether that's a strength or weakness of mine.
I yawn, feeling my head already popping. I live in a shared house with my best friends, so I don't hesitate to look for them as soon as I transfer my weight on my weak elbows. They are both still exhausted on their beds.
"Remind me not to listen to you when you tell me you want to have "a drink""
I tell them, as I quickly pull the sheets from their bodies receiving their tired grunts.
"You're the usual pain in the ass, Maca"
Rizos, certainly the laziest of the three, is the one that always ends up convincing us to live the vida loca. She never missed a party in nearby neighborhoods or college student complexes, as she never shied away from picking up some guy to hit on her. She is a free spirit, but also the one who often gets us into trouble. Either way, it didn't hurt to listen to her instincts from time to time. Our university, and especially our faculty, is not at all easy. They assign us tasks from morning to evening, with deadlines to be respected to try not to get a stopover of points by the end of the year. And everyone knows that I hate not respecting what they assign us, so when I end up in front of the PC for too many hours I can admit that Rizos is always ready to cheer me up.
Yolanda, on the other hand, is very similar to me. In most cases we end up seeing it from the same point of view. She is a calm, relaxed girl, and she also has a hard time letting go when needed.
"What time is it?"
She asked me, as used to drinking more than once a week as I am.
"In half an hour we're out of here, raise your ass"
"But do we have two hours of marketing or those are for tomorrow?"
Continued Rizos with her head still under the pillow.
"It's today..and we also had the analysis text that I truly hope you have prepared"
I laughed, seeing her immediately lift her head from the sheet and put the first pants she met in the closet.
"Joder! Are you kidding ?!"
Yolanda and I exchanged a knowing look as I made three cups of milk and cereal in the kitchen and she turned on the TV.
After our friend burst out three more swear words cursing herself, we started laughing.
"Yea loca, it's not for today, it's for next time"
"Fuck you, Maca."
She said then looking at Yolanda, realizing that the girl holding the remote control knew better than me.
"And you too"
"You know there's no other way to get you up"
The other laughed.
In half an hour I was out of the shower, leaving the bathroom to Yola and Rizos who were already careful putting on makeup. I was eating a crecker in front of the TV when I saw her face again.
Zulema Zahir's face.
The best known businesswoman in Madrid and probably the best known in Spain. Her photos flowed across the screen announcing her arrival at our university that, apparently, she should have visited these days.
The news had reached us by email, and all our professors had loaded us with assignments to make a good impression in case the mystical creature appeared in our classroom, like a miracle. Many times I looked at her on images, articles, listened to her interviews and was amazed by what she said. The woman knew exactly how to handle what she was holding. From her look you can see exactly that confidence that every public figure should have. I wonder how much experience she had to get to be like this. Although I wish to be in her shoes someday, her gaze deeply confuses me. It gives me the idea of being so focused on what she does that she doesn't exist for any other reason. I had always been good at reading the expressions of the people I saw, but Zulema Zahir, that woman was different. Perhaps it's the effect of photos and newspapers, but she appears empty, as if beyond those eyes concentrated in the business world it was too rare to meet anything else.
And I don't want to be like that, I don't think so at all.
I try to analyze that woman on the screen again and again. Something tells me that in years she hasn't been accompanied by anyone other than her secretary. They knew her as Saray Vargas. Tall, brunette, with a rebellious attitude and always there, attentive to where the Arab stepped, despite having everything under control. If I already feel busy from head to toe, I imagine how much a business boss like her has to deal with.
She always wears elegant suits, as if she were arriving from another universe. I admit they look great. In general, a woman with a power like hers can't have any other effect, I guess. Yolanda distracted me from the screen by throwing the backpack towards me.
"Vamos, we'll be late with Palacios"
Palacios is our marketing teacher. I think he is the only teacher with compassion for us. He often leaves us those fifteen minutes of rest at the end of the lesson. These good intentions, however, frequently bring him bad consequences from our class group of assholes. Who takes the piss, who asks him for favors thinking that the man is a wild card, in short, an attitude that I hate. Fortunately, the teacher is quite sure of himself and of what he does, he knows when others take advantage of his gestures and does not allow them to continue after a certain threshold.
In an uncomfortable uniform for the university, we packed the stuff to get off and take the bus. Within minutes we got in front of the stop. We said goodbye to Joel, the driver we have known for three years and having now memorized the seats by heart, we sat down. I put the headphones on waiting for those 15 minutes of travel and winked at my classmates who were not as ready as I was for five hours of lessons.
We arrived at the university in less than we expected, so we decided to get inside early and already fill the seats in the class by repeating something about our notes.
"Yo Ferreiro, ready to lick Palacios' s ass already?"
Valbuena's voice was ready to irritate me early in the morning, but fuck if I didn't feel like it. I gave him a dirty look as I resumed my reading. Fabio followed him with the backpack on his shoulders and gave me a light smile. Although he had always been friends with that little monster, Fabio had always been very sweet towards me, maybe because he tried to get my attention or maybe because he was just like that and got negatively influenced by that asshole. Regardless of Valbuena's eyes roaming all over me, I decided to reciprocate Fabio's gesture.
"Hey Valbuena, did daddy make you a snack today?..how much cash did he put in your burger?"
Rizos' sentence made me giggle, but hoping to avoid some storm between the two I turned around asking her to stop and be quiet. I wanted a simple morning, with no fuss. The boy looked at her from head to toe as if he were ready to spit her in the face, until Fabio pulled him by the arm forcing him to sit down.
Valbuena was known to be a typical daddy's boy, and not just for the money, because I met a thousand rich people who were far too nice; With him though, it was entirely impossible. Over the years we had always wondered how someone with his brain ended up in a university like ours. In the early years it was rumored that he had been recommended. Our principal, Sandoval, is not as reliable as hoped. There had been a thousand outstanding issues to be resolved for the structure, the well-being of the students and the good organization of the university, on which he had spent not even half of his time.
"Good morning, chicos. Take a seat, please"
Palacios' voice interrupted the chatter of the others leading them to arrange themselves for their desks. He wrote the topic of the lesson on the board.
"Analysis of recorded statistics"
It refers to the last lesson we covered. A snort from Rizos made me turn around, meeting my best friends almost asleep on the desks. I almost laughed remembering Rizos last night trying to force Yolanda to get drunk like she'd never done before, in the pub near the uni.
The hours passed quickly. At the end of the lesson, before the start of break, Palacios stopped us.
"Guys..can I have your attention for a moment?"
"It's urgent"
He added, securing the attention of all of us young people. Our vice principal, Altagracia, came in, standing beside the professor and saying good morning. Was Something wrong?
"So..it seems like you got lucky"
He smiled and continued.
"I remind you that today Mrs. Zahir, head of the Zahir Company, the best known in Madrid, was expected to arrive."
We nodded as we remembered what was written in those emails.
"Well, a random extraction was made in the principal's building. It looks like you have been chosen as class of the year."
"Class for what? I don't understand"
I asked confused, probably in the name of the whole class.
"Ms. Zahir will teach you business planning and organization during your senior year at university"
The classroom filled with surprised voices, small nonsense laughter and I, I was speechless. And to think that only this morning I was looking at her on the screen wishing to be like her in the distant future, and now she will be my teacher ?!
It was already too late to realize it, because within minutes my ears were filled with screams and whistles. I shook my head to see the cause, and there she was. Entering through the door with a briefcase in one hand and the other waving in greeting. Her gaze remained serious and determined, accompanied by her head swinging in appreciation and consent. Mrs. Zahir wore wide black trousers and a long neck shirt of the same color which gave even more symmetry to her face. After Palacios and Altagracia shook their hands with the brunette's, I shifted my gaze to her grip. It was visibly rigid, tight, of those who do not doubt their actions. I hadn't even noticed that the other two adults had left the classroom to allow us a few minutes of new acquaintance with Zulema Zahir.
I still find it hard to believe.
"Well..Buenos días"
She said leaning back with a thud on the chair and settling herself comfortable. I heard her voice for the first time. I didn't know how I could expect it, but there it was, definitely suited to a body and face like hers. She brought her arms over the desk, crossing her fingers.
"As you know, I am Zulema Zahir. I have been heading the Zahir Company for nearly seven years now."
The woman got up again. I was amazed by how she had not even looked us in the eye for a moment. We will have a hell of a year, I feel it. As she wrote on the blackboard she kept talking.
"I will teach you company planning and organization during your last year of university"
The course lettering was now visible on the black background.
"You should already know that, of course, there is much more under the planning of a company, but unfortunately that is not my job."
She finished, throwing chalk on the edge of the blackboard and clapping her hands together to brush away the dust that covered them.
"Then.."
She said again, finally scanning some faces in the corners of the classroom. Mrs. Zahir had different eyes than I had described them. They were much fuller now, you can see that she is a very determined woman and ready to make us live the pains of hell.
"Can anyone tell me what is the basis for planning a company?"
With her fingers still intertwined and resting on her belly, the brunette scrutinized one pupil and then the other and then the other again, expecting a readiness that I doubt could exist in this group of ours. Perhaps those who did not answer were afraid, because believe me, this woman obviously does not joke about it. She showed indifference and arrogance even before uttering words. However I didn't want to limit myself to being yet another student afraid of the teacher, not this year. I needed my credits to get to my milestone.
In the deadly silence between those four walls, I raised my hand. In no time the brunette's gaze fell on me. I would not have expected to feel so in awe once she did, yet I was now so bare, frail, so much that words struggled to get out of my mouth. Green eyes seemed intent on reading me before letting me speak as if the woman was trying to figure out what kind of girl I was and yes, it made me uncomfortable.
"Go on"
She then said, motioning me to continue. So I did.
"T-to start a business plan you need to plan a description index and a summary that can present the planner's intentions in a few pages.."
I saw her watching me for a few more seconds.
"What's your name?"
The brunette asked me, but I was still with my head stuck between the clouds.
"Hey, blondie. Your name"
She repeated. I shook my head feeling myself drowning in embarrassment. Blondie?!
"Macarena. Macarena Ferreiro"
She got up from her chair making me let go of the sigh that seemed to be trapped in my lungs.
"Well, as your classmate Ferreiro said, the first step in planning is the Business Plan"
Her hand traced those exact words in chalk, underlining them twice on the blackboard. Meanwhile, Yolanda's hand made me turn around.
"Are you getting the nerd's job already?"
She laughed accompanied by Rizos. These bitches will never stop teasing me, but I love them. Knowing I was around them comforted me, especially now. I shook my head and giggled as I turned around and paid attention to the woman's words again.
"What I want you to do for the next lesson is a personal plan. Made by you, with a hypothetical business plan."
Mrs. Zahir began to walk through the narrow streets between the desks. She made her boots scratch on the ground, as if everyone had to be at attention during her arrival.
"It may be whatever you like, an idea you've had for some time, as long as it's accurate. I need to see those key points of a Plan."
She stopped beside my desk. When I looked up she was there, waiting for me, as if she wanted to talk to me. Needless to say, she didn't. The woman brought her eyes back to her trajectory and returned to the desk.
"Claro?"
We nodded. Everyone, of course. Nobody wanted to see how Zulema Zahir would react to a disappointment from her new students. The bell rang and most of the class left their seats in a hurry, leaving only me and my two friends who were already on their way out.
When I too decided to follow them, as I feared, the voice of the new teacher interrupted my journey.
"Ferreiro"
I turned, noticing that she was still busy putting her thousand sheets back in that briefcase.
"Hm?"
I answered curiously.
"Keep it up"
She said, nodding at me.
Something in the immediate familiarity she had taken made me smile slightly. But she didn't reciprocate. The brunette went back to filling the briefcase, so I went outside where my friends were waiting ready to make fun of me for some bullshit.