My Ice Prince
Шрифт:
– No, I'm watching a soap opera» Mary said. – It's my favourite. It's the third time I've watched it.
I wasn't surprised to see my laptop by the sink.
– I watched it a couple of years ago, too» I said, glad to be able to change the subject.
– You did? Who's your favourite character? – Mary asked, turning to me. Her eyes were shining.
– Sally» I answered, walking over to my friend.
– Sally? – She exclaimed and wrinkled her nose. – Why? She's so slippery!
– What kind of slippery? – I asked with a smile.
– Slippery: you never know what's on her mind. Why do you like her?
– She's a strong person. Sally does mean things sometimes, but she doesn't take stupid advice like Jane.
«God, what rubbish we're talking about!» – A note of amusement went through my head.
– Does she do mean things sometimes? All she knows is that she does them at every turn! And by the way, Jane is my favourite character: she's the only kind girl in the show» said Mary seriously.
– Yeah, and that's why she set Sally up on the trip to Detroit» I grinned.
– It was an accident! It wasn't her fault that Sam was head over heels in love with her!
– But that didn't give her the right to turn him against Sally.
– No matter what you say, I'm gonna stick to my point: Jane's a smart girl, and Sally's a snake!
– Okay, chill out, it's just a show» I laughed when I saw how Mary had become agitated by our pointless argument.
– Yeah… Look, if you're not too lazy, take out the rubbish» Mary asked. – You're weird… Sally… Hmm.
But I didn't say anything, took a large black bag out of the bin, closed it with special straps and carried it outside: the bin was about two dozen metres from our house. I knew how and where to put the rubbish: Mary had taught me how.
– Nice T-shirt! – said a red-haired teenager next door with freckles all over his face as I walked home. Bill, I think he's a schoolguy.
– Thanks! – I said.
– Aren't you cold? – He asked, smiling.
– I was taking out the rubbish» I said, and smiled back.
People seemed nice and funny to me now.
At home I decided to read a smart book, and I took the first volume of Chateaubriand's The Genius of Christianity out of the Smiths' personal library. I wanted to read his reflections for general development: I had never thought about God and whether I should go to church or not, but Chateaubriand in the first Chapters praised Christianity so highly that I felt interested in this religion. Catholicism reigns in Poland, and my parents often went to services at some church, but I grew up an atheist. Although, no, I had my own thoughts about the universe.
Chateaubriand soon bored me: I read a few Chapters, bookmarked it, and listened to music on my player. Sometimes I lay like that almost all day long, but now I needed to relax after this morning's disappointment and the quarrel with this Frederik. I also felt sorry for the bicycle.
Putting my hands under my head, I closed my eyes and sank into the world of my favourite indie rock. After a while, I felt something soft against me, and I opened my eyes: Mary had covered me with a blanket. I was overwhelmed by her kindness.
– Thank you» I whispered, throwing off my headphones; it felt good that Mary had taken the plaid and covered me with it so I wouldn't be cold.
– Are you going to eat? – She asked.
– No, later» I answered.
– Well, all right.
Mary left.
I raked the ends of the plaid under me so that I could curl up like a cocoon-it had been my childhood habit to lie wrapped in a blanket. I didn't feel warm, but I felt very cosy mentally lying in that soft, pleasant-smelling plaid.
Mary chatted on the phone with some guy, then turned on a sappy melodrama on my laptop.
It was the most unpleasant part of our life together: I could hear everything that went on in the house, including the sounds coming from the toilet and Mary's sniffling at night. I tried to block out these sounds, but I could not, and it made me very uncomfortable mentally. So now I was lying there and involuntarily listened to what the characters in the film were talking about: a wife left her husband and he was left on the street, without money or documents, but a kind businesswoman picked him up and gave him a job as a valet.
Suddenly someone knocked loudly on the front door.
«Let Mary open it» thought.
The knock was repeated.
I sighed unhappily: I didn't want to leave my cosy nest, but I had to go and open the door.
«Who was it that came in so late? I don't even think people visit at eight-thirty-two in the evening» I wondered, glancing at my watch.
Opening the door, I froze with surprise. No, not that: I was astonished, and terribly displeased: the man who had run me down was standing on the porch.
– You seem to have the wrong house or, no, street» I said icily, and I was about to slam the door in his face, but he held it open with his hand. – What the hell was that? – I let out a cry of indignation.
The vampire didn't remove his hand.
– You don't have to get so fired up right away» he said and grinned mockingly, as if proud of his insolence.
He was dressed like a casual dresser now. His dark hair was dishevelled, as if its owner had made a mess of it on purpose.