«What is she talking about? Is she going to live here? With me?» – I frowned.
– 'But I rented your house on the condition that I would live completely alone,' I said slyly: in fact, the house was rented by Maria, and I didn't know on what terms. But I knew for a fact that my sister would never let me live in the same house with a man!
– Yes, I know, but I hope you'll get into my position» Mary said in an apologetic tone. – Oh, come in, please!
I walked into the house and took off my sneakers. My morning was ruined.
We walked into the living room.
– Where have you been? – The girl asked me.
– Running around» I answered briefly and sat down on the wide brown couch.
– Really? You're not sweating at all.
«It's Harry's sister. Just as tedious as he is!» – I thought grudgingly.
– It's just that I'm a professional runner» I lied, and only now did I realise the horror of my situation: she's going to live here? No, that's impossible! How would I hide my strange habits from her? What would she say about a fridge full of blood?
– Marsha, I want to apologise…» she began, sitting down next to me.
– Misha » I reminded her again in a grim tone, feeling annoyed that Mary hadn't remembered my name.
– Yes, I'm sorry, Misha. Are you thinking about what I'm doing here right now? I just don't have anywhere else to go. I have nowhere else to go. – Bitterness showed on her face.
– What happened to you? – I asked politely: I didn't really care, and the last thing I wanted to hear about was her problems.
The girl moved closer to me and sighed heavily.
– The thing is… I'm supposed to be in Scotland right now, but it's boring as hell… Well, I didn't really come because I had this crazy idea to go back to Oxford, to have some fun. The thing is…» She hesitated. – Anyway, I got mixed up with some bad company there, almost became a drug addict… No, don't think! I don't do drugs and I never have. I smoke weed sometimes, but it's not harmful.
I listened to her and marvelled at my fatal failure: how did I end up in Oxford? To live next to a girl who smokes pot! It was the worst thing ever!
– Also, I borrowed a lot of money there. I can't pay it back, so it's quite possible that there will be mafia people here…» Suddenly Mary stopped talking and laughed out loud.
«'Oh, she's a psychopath! That's terrible, what bad luck!» – went through my head.
– Come on, don't worry about it! I was joking! – she said through her laughter. – You should have seen your face!
I had a terrible antipathy for that girl.
– Misha, I was joking! – Finally, the girl calmed down and looked at me seriously, but with a smile. – Don't frown, it was a joke!
– And about the pot? – I clarified.
– Yes. And about the mafia guys, too. Actually, I was just offered a job here at the orphanage, so I came here.
– I'm speechless! – I said unhappily. – I'm sorry, but I don't think we can live in the same house together. It's not really convenient!
– Why not convenient? I'm a girl, you're a girl, we'll be friends! We'll talk, we'll watch films and shows. Run in the morning!
«Running together. That would be great» I thought, remembering the two girlfriends in the park. The thought made me feel good about this strange person.
– 'I'll take the second bedroom and I won't bother you at all,' said Mary.
«Well, I don't think so!» – I grinned to myself.
Even living in Warsaw, with my family, I was always uncomfortable because I could hear everything going on for dozens of metres around me. And to live with her and hear everything she would do? No. I can't!
– Mary, let me get you a flat somewhere, okay? I think that would be better» I said, trying to avoid her intrusive company.
– But you don't know me at all! I'm not as daft as I look. Well, about the joke, I agree it was stupid. But please, just give me one chance to prove that I'm not what you think I am. Please! – She begged me, folding her arms in a pleading tone.
I looked at her: short hair dyed nuclear black, a silver flower-shaped piercing in her nose, but rather nice, discreet make-up, a pretty face, kind eyes. And her clothes were decent: a long yellow woollen jumper and tight black jeans, with soft house slippers on her feet.
«What if Mary has to hide her self too? What if she's just a victim of circumstance and I'm so adamant about getting rid of her? Could she really be something else entirely? After all, Cedric gave me a chance, and my parents gave me a chance to be myself. Cedric gave me amazing advice that set me on the right path. Maybe I should give her a chance too!» – I thought.
– Also, I'm a very good cook and I can clean the house» Mary added. – And about the piercing, I've been thinking about getting it off for a long time, so I'm going to get it off today. New life, new habits.
– Like running in the morning? – I asked with a smile.
– Yes, that would be great!
I smiled even wider: Mary's smile was so sincere that I felt ashamed of my words and thoughts that denigrated her.
And then I realised that Mary was almost my age: she was seventeen! She could have been the friend I dreamed of! But she was human, and Mary said…
'Wait a minute, Misha, just because you're going to socialise with her doesn't mean it's dangerous,' I thought, reassuring myself. – And about the fridge… I'll think of something. But it'll be fun for the two of us!»
– All right, Mary. Stay! – I said cheerfully.
She shrieked with joy and hugged me.
– Thank you! Thank you! Oh, you're so cold! Are you cold? Let me make you some hot tea. – She rushed into the kitchen.
– No, that's okay! You'd better tell me where I can make a college uniform! – I hurriedly shouted to her.
– Of course I'll tell you! Our neighbour runs a sewing shop. Are you going to Oxford? – Mary came out of the kitchen and brought me a mug of steaming hot tea.
I took it confusedly.
– I shouldn't have, thank you» I mumbled, not sure what I was going to do with it. Certainly not to drink tea! I hadn't drunk or eaten anything human since I'd had ice cream in Karlovy Vary. I hated human food that day.
– Can we go there right now? – I asked, trying to avoid the damn tea.
– Now? But you just got here.
– I'm not tired at all. Shall we?
– All right, but change your clothes: it's quite cold outside.
– I'll be right back!
Putting the mug on the table, I ran to my bedroom and quickly changed into jeans and a warm tunic to look like people at this time. I grabbed my wallet and put it in my favourite black shoulder purse and walked out into the hallway.
– Wow, you look so pretty! – I heard Mary's voice behind me.
I felt embarrassed: my looks didn't impress me.
– Thank you, you too» I answered her.
– Guys must be chasing you around! – Mary giggled, fiddling with her boots.
«Maybe I should go with boots too? I don't think I know how people dress in autumn at all!» – I thought, but still, I put on my sneakers and put on my tunic and my blue jacket.
– You're wrong. And let's not talk about that, shall we? – I asked, embarrassed by Mary's words.
– Tell me, did Harry ever flirt with you? – It was as if she hadn't heard me.
It's a good thing I'm not blushing, or I'd be as red as a cancer.
– No, he didn't. I asked you to! – I said reproachfully. – I don't like these conversations!
– But why? I just…» She cut herself off, glancing at me.
We left the house in silence. I closed the door.
– Wow, the first time! It took me twenty minutes to open it today» she exclaimed. – You've got talent!
– You just have to push on the lock, that's all. Well, take me to your seamstress» I said, already cooled by my irritation.
Mary laughed merrily and, taking me by the arm (which I hadn't expected), led me into the workshop.
– Where did you come from? – Mary asked.
– Warsaw. That's the capital of Poland. Maybe you've been there? – I answered.
– So you're Polish? Yeah, you have a weird accent. No, to be honest, I haven't been off the island at all, and I don't want to. I just want to live in Oxford, work, go out, have fun, you know, live.
She tripped, but I was just in time to stop her from falling.
– Wow, thank you… You're skinny but strong! – Mary said with surprise. – But let's go out into the sun: you're as cold as a dead man.
«Why does she keep emphasising that?» – I thought irritably.
We stepped out into the middle of the road, and we were enveloped by the still diffuse rays of the morning sun. It felt really nice, and I squeezed my eyes shut. I loved the sun.
How abruptly my life had changed! Just yesterday I was going to live alone and not socialise with people. Harry didn't count – it was just an experiment. Now I was walking hand in hand with this strange, laughing girl, almost a punk, who I would be sharing my house with. If my parents or any of my parents found out about this, I'd be killed!
– Harry told me you were studying in Scotland» I said, determined to find out more about Mary.
– Harry doesn't know I'm here. Yes, I went to school there, and then I wanted to go to college, but I didn't get an interview, and do you know why? I forgot to take off my nose piercing, and it's such a strict college! They have such terrible rules! – Mary even shook her head.
– Then why did you want to go there? You're so free-spirited» I said, not wanting to offend her with the word «free-spirited».
– It's not me, it's Harry, he's been so insistent on reeducating me. He thinks I'm a tomguy. But I'm not.
I didn't say anything because I was thinking what Harry was thinking.
– Do you have any brothers or sisters? – Mary asked.
At that moment, two cyclists rode past us shouting, «Hello girls!»
I frowned and Mary shouted after them: «Hi!»
– Yes: I have two older brothers and two older sisters. One is married and lives in the Czech Republic, and the other, Maria, rented your house three years ago. Do you remember her? – I asked.
– No, I wasn't in England then : I was at school in Edinburgh» she answered, covering her eyes from the sun with her palm. – Well, here we are!
We stopped in front of a small window displaying female and male mannequins in Oxford University uniforms. I was immediately filled with excitement and joy: what a pleasure it would be to wear this beautiful strict uniform!
We entered. The bell on the door rang.
– By the way, Aunt Mel is considered the best seamstress in Oxford. Do you know how many people dress at her place? – Mary said to me. – Hey, Aunt Mel, I've brought you a customer!
– I'm coming, I'm coming! – Out of a side door came a full elderly woman with completely grey hair. – Mary, my girl, are you back?
– Yes, Aunt Mel! I'm going to work in Reverend Charles' office! – Mary hugged the seamstress.
– «Office»? What a word you've chosen! By the way, the orphanage is a holy place! – Aunt Mel said with a laugh.
– Oh, you're at it again! – Mary laughed. – How you like to teach me!
– Don't you laugh: I've been in this world sixty-five years, and I know more than you! – grumbled the seamstress.
«She's sixty-five? And she looks so awful? Thank God I'll never be that ugly!» – I thought as I looked round at Aunt Mel, who looked sad, and marvelled at the contrast between her and my beautiful young parents.
How amazing: people take this ugly old age for granted, and we take for granted our eternal youth and beauty. How different creatures we are!
– What's your name, my girl? – the seamstress turned to me.
– Marsha, and she's Polish» Mary said before I could even open my mouth.
– Not Marsha, but Mischa» I corrected her calmly.
– Yes, I'm sorry, it's just that the names are very similar» Mary apologised, then turned to the seamstress. – She needs a uniform for Oxford.
– Oxford? What a clever girl you are, Misha!» Auntie Mel complimented me. I smiled falsely. – Then let's go to the fitting room. Take off your jacket and jumper and we'll take your measurements.
I followed her into the fitting room, took off my jacket and tunic and stayed in my bra and jeans.
– Polish girls are as beautiful as ours» said the seamstress. – It's very interesting: you are so tall and yet so thin. Not a model, by any chance?
– No, I just don't have an appetite» I told her.
– Do you keep your figure? – Mary asked when she came in. – You're so thin! Well, I'll make you fattened up! I wonder how you got breasts when you're so thin.
– Mary, don't talk rubbish! – Aunt Mel told her off. – Look, you might offend her. Misha, don't pay any attention to her because you have a marvellous figure.
– It's not offensive at all» I smiled, having long ago thought of an excuse for my thinness. – It's just that I'm allergic to almost everything, so I don't eat much.
– You poor thing. What are you allowed to eat? – asked the seamstress, measuring my waist.
– Well, not much: tomatoes… Cucumbers… Sometimes apples, – I thought up, confused, as I had never thought that someone would ask about it.
– To live on tomatoes and apples alone… It would kill me! – Mary exclaimed. – And I was surprised to find our fridge empty!
– I'm used to it» I replied modestly.
Aunt Mel finished her work.
– That's it. I'll have the mould made by Friday. How many copies?
– Two… Or three. Yes, three, and three more robes» I said, putting on my tunic and jacket.
– I'll make them all in different styles. What kind of material?
– The usual stuff, like everyone else's. I'd be most grateful» I smiled.
We said goodbye to Aunt Mel and went home. On the way Mary suggested we go to the supermarket and buy some groceries, and I was a bit scared, because I'd never been to a supermarket before – I just didn't need to go there, so I politely declined.
– Then , let's go to the park and go rollerblading» Mary suggested, grabbing my arm again.
– I'm afraid I don't know how to skate» I said honestly.
– I'll teach you. It's not very hard; you just have to keep your balance. By the way, about the bike: you can use it whenever you want, but I'll still walk to work.
– Good, I'll know. Where do you work? – I asked.
– At a shelter for homeless children» she said. – Of course, the pay won't be much, but that doesn't matter: I've always felt sorry for those poor, unwanted kids, because… If it weren't for the Smiths, I'd be one of them. – Mary smiled sadly.
– Why do you say that? – I wondered, but I knew what she meant.
From the first time I'd met Mary, when she'd nearly slammed the door in my face, I'd never seen her as having anything in common with Harry, they were completely different, but I hadn't thought about the fact that she might not be his own sister.
– They adopted me when I was two, from this very orphanage. Of course, they hide it from me and treat me like family, and I've never felt any difference in the way they treat me and Harry. They love us equally. I know the Smiths are not my birth parents, but it makes no difference to me: they took me in, brought me up, raised me, and never made any distinction between me and their own son.
– How did you know? – I asked quietly, penetrated by her words and sadness.
It all seemed like some Hollywood film to me, but Mary, the living, real Mary, was walking with me and holding my hand. I felt sorry for this girl, and after her words about the sincere parental love and care of the Smiths, I felt great respect for them, because not every family would agree to take someone else's child into their home and devote their lives to it.
«They are wonderful people! Mary got into a very good family. But it's so terrible: her birth parents abandoned her, abandoned her… How inhuman and low it is! How lucky I am to be born into my family! How much my family loves me!» – involuntarily ran through my mind.
– I was a troubled teenager, and when I was fifteen I was especially so: rude, rude, smoked, skipped school, got that stupid piercing because I thought it was cool. Once, when no one was home, I went through my mum's papers: she hides them from me on purpose, but one day I peeked where she hid them, and when everyone was gone, I took them out. And then I found out that I wasn't their real daughter, and they weren't my real parents, and that Harry wasn't my brother… You know, I didn't feel anything: no bitterness, no disappointment. It was just an emptiness. I couldn't get used to this new truth, and then I felt so sorry for my fate! But I put the documents back and didn't say anything to my parents. I remember locking myself in the loo and crying all day. And as I sat there, I realised that I couldn't and shouldn't resent the Smiths. I thought how lucky I was that they adopted me! What right had I to be angry with them? – Mary squeezed my hand hard, apparently agitated by her own story. – Since then , I've been eternally grateful to them, and I've never stopped loving them. On the contrary. For their sake I stopped truancy, smoking, rudeness, in general, I became a good girl and got in school quite a good certificate. By the way, I didn't go to college on purpose. I purposely didn't take off my earring from my nose to get rejected. I just didn't want them to pay that much money for me. I did it on purpose to be able to work.
A strong sympathy for this girl with such a difficult fate but a noble soul appeared in my soul.
– That's why I asked for a place in this orphanage… Don't think I'm telling you all this to make you feel sorry for me! I won't bore you for long, and as soon as I get my salary, I'll move into a flat.
– Oh, Mary! You can live as long as you like! – I said hurriedly, not wanting such a noble girl to be so inconvenienced. Now I wished with all my soul that she would live with me. – You don't bother me at all!
– Really? – Mary asked with hope in her voice. – You see, I really don't have any money.
– Of course, you said it yourself: we'll have fun living together! – I smiled. – I'm so glad you're here.
– It's so kind of you! Thank you, Marsha. We're going to be good friends! – She hugged me tightly.
I felt awkward, but I hugged her back, trying not to squeeze her too tightly. It was a new, strange feeling: I was hugging a person. Was this the right thing to do? Why am I doing this? I'm not supposed to be friends with people, and she said let's be friends!
What would my family say if they found out? And Mariszka? They'll just take me home!
«But they don't have to know. I think one human friend won't hurt me. Especially since she's a nice, kind girl, and maybe living with her will help me fit in more quickly with the human world, life and surroundings. Mary will help me become a human being in the eyes of society. And, yes, it will be fun» I decided firmly.
«Will you show me around the orphanage?» – I wanted to ask, but then I changed my mind: I didn't want to see homeless children.
– Just please don't call me Marsha» I asked instead. – My name is Misha. Misha.
– I'm sorry, did I call you Marsha again? – Mary wrinkled her nose. – I promise, that was the last time.
I smiled.
– Misha, you're so nice! – Mary said softly, looking into my eyes. – I didn't even expect you, so beautiful, to be so kind too!
«Is she talking about me? I'm the good one? That's funny. If only she knew that instead of cucumbers and tomatoes, I feed on human blood… Oh, and I'm supposed to get it today! I have to run home right away!» – I thought fondly.
– But you don't know me at all! – I was surprised.
– Yes, we met only today, but I feel that you are nice. Believe me, I'm a good judge of character» Mary replied in a serious tone.
«Oh, Mary, how wrong you are this time!» – I thought, but I did not object to her persuasion.
– I am to have a parcel sent to me today, so I think I must go home at once» I said hastily.
– Then let's go! Let's quicken our step!
We walked briskly up Cowley Road, reached the turn into our alley, and suddenly Mary stopped.
– You know what? You go home and I'll go to the orphanage and talk to Reverend Charles. I need to find out when I can go to work» she said. – And don't worry about groceries, I'll stop at the supermarket on the way back. So what can I get you?
I thought about it: I didn't need human food, but I needed something to eat in Mary's eyes.
– I don't want to bother you with my problems. I'll buy it myself» I said, to discourage her from monitoring my diet.
The fact that Mary would make me have to mess around with human food I didn't need irritated me a little, but I was willing to put up with the inconvenience.
«What good timing she's leaving: she doesn't need to see my 'humanitarian aid!» – I thought with relief.
– 'Well, suit yourself, if anything, the supermarket is on the other side – you certainly won't miss it. Well, I'm off! I'll meet you at home! – Mary started to leave.
– I'll move my stuff out of your room! – I shouted after her.
– Your clothes are cool! – she shouted back at me.
That phrase made me frown: was she going through my stuff in her bedroom wardrobe? That's rather unpleasant…
I headed home.
By midday Cowley Road had become a torrent of everyday energy, with shop windows, pubs and cafes on both sides of the street, and I was fascinated by this new information landscape.
I liked Oxford from the first sight: such a cosy, warmly atmospheric town, and with insanely beautiful Gothic architecture coming from all sides. It was so numerous and varied that it would take at least three months of daily contemplation to see all its richness.
The sun was high in the sky, and the asphalt glistened dully under its probably warm rays: the people around me were dressed almost as warmly as I was, so I had not failed in my appearance.
And how many young faces there were around! Girls, guys, probably also students, walking on the pavement, sitting in cafes, chatting, cyclists passing by… And they were all looking at me. I could feel their eyes on me. And it was all the fault of my vampire beauty: I was tall, thin (not skinny, as Mary said), I had beautiful pale clear skin, beautiful nails, long, wavy golden hair that went down below my waist, big grey-blue eyes…
When I lived at home, I never thought about being very beautiful in human society. I had never appreciated my looks, and now this general admiration for them made me want to go home as soon as possible so that people would stop staring at me. It was an insanely burdensome feeling.
«How do my sisters stand it? It's so disgusting to cause everyone's attention!» – I thought grudgingly, lowered my gaze to the road, quickened my step, and tried to suppress the thought that I had become a show dog of an expensive breed.
«Who is that girl? I haven't seen her here before» I suddenly heard as I passed two young men. – «Probably a student. I wonder where she lives?» – replied another voice. – «I'm more interested in how she got here. Hardly with her brain» replied the first one to him.
Hearing this assumption, offensive to me and my intellect, I was greatly offended by these people.
«Wow, they think that if I'm pretty, then I'm not smart enough to get into Oxford on my own? Do all the people round here think the same?» – I thought with despair.
My beautiful mood was crushed: I walked towards home and thought only of bad things. My resentment would not go away: I was resentful of the many long hours I had spent studying at home. And self-education? I had worked so hard at it, sitting at my laptop all day long!
«People are horrible, stupid and narrow-minded! If it were up to me, I'd kill people like those guys in the first place! – I thought. – I'll have to ask Mary about what's going on with these people! Why the hell do they think I'm a stupid person?»
And then I realised why I hadn't noticed the attention before-Mary was occupying my thoughts, distracting me, and when she left, my mind turned to the world around me.
«My vampire hearing is the real enemy! Well, why am I hearing everything that's going on around me? It's just unbearable!» – I frowned.
Finally, I started to walk towards the house and my attention was caught by a man in a strange uniform knocking on the door of my house.
«It must be the postman! There's my parcel!» – I guessed and, quickening my step, I approached the postman.
– Good afternoon. Are you here to see me? – I asked him politely.
– I suppose I am. Are you Miss Misha Mroczek? – he asked with a smile.
– Absolutely, that's right. Do you need any supporting documents? – I walked up the stairs and opened the door.
– I would have given you the parcel anyway, but rules are rules» the man said, smiling good-naturedly.
– Then you'll have to wait until I find your passport.
I went into the house without inviting the postman in and found the passport. The postman looked at the document, made sure I wasn't deceiving him, gave me the passport and went down to his van to get the parcel.
When he walked into the hallway with a large box in his hands, I couldn't hold back a smile: how funny! A man helping me with the delivery of the blood of his own kin!
– Where should I put it? – He asked, with a flushed face: the box must have been very heavy.
– You can put it right here» I replied, pitying him.
– It's very heavy… I'm not sure that a girl so frail could lift it and carry it to another place. – He wouldn't let go of the box.
– Put it here, I don't live alone» I said insistently, so that the gallant man wouldn't stand like that.
The postman put the box on the floor with a clatter, gave me the papers to sign, wished me a pleasant day and left. I closed the door behind him, waited for his car to drive away from my house, and only then opened the box. In the box was a rectangular steel container with an interactive panel, and next to it was a note from my mum with the code to the lock. I entered the numbers and opened the lid: inside the container, in a thick mass of crushed ice, lay my «humanitarian aid» in the form of two-litre tomato juice packets. I counted them: eight bags in all, so I had sixteen litres of blood for the near future. Closing the lid, I carried the container into the kitchen, placed the 'juice' packets in the fridge and set the fridge temperature to four degrees centigrade.
«What about Mary? What if she decides to try this 'juice'? What should I tell her? What a dilemma! We have to think of something before she comes back!» – I thought.
After all, it's so natural: Mary might see packets of fat-cheeked red tomatoes with the Polish inscription «Sok pomidorowy» on them, decide to try it, open one of the packets, pour the juice into a glass, and instead of juice it will pour out…
What can I think of?
I tapped my fingernails on the fridge, thinking of something plausible: I couldn't let Mary see that blood and find out I was drinking it. In the end, after much deliberation, I decided that I would just ask her nicely not to open my «juice» packets-she was a decent girl and wouldn't poke her nose where it didn't belong.
While Mary was away, I decided to move my clothes from her wardrobe to my room, but it didn't take me long, so I had to sit by the window for about an hour, waiting for my neighbour to arrive and listening to what was going on around me: all the English conversations gave me a pleasant feeling of something new and unusual.
At last I saw Mary walking hurriedly towards our house, and I sighed with relief: it is very boring to wait for someone.
The door opened, there was a commotion in the hallway, and then Mary came into the living room with a large bag in her hands.
– I'm home! I went to the supermarket to ask if you'd been in, but they said you hadn't» she said, setting the bags on the floor. – I bought everything!
– Oh, I think I really forgot to go in there! – I pretended to be embarrassed, but I was immensely surprised by Mary's enthusiasm: she had bought the groceries herself! How embarrassing! I had absolutely no intention of buying anything!
– That's what I thought, so I bought it all myself. Don't worry, you too: tomatoes, cucumbers and apples, only you have to give me the money for that.
– Thank you for your concern, Mary! – I exclaimed, but in my heart I sighed unhappily.
I took a hundred pounds sterling out of my purse and put it on the table.
– I won't have change» Mary said, surprised.
– Change? – I asked.
– Well, yes, it's a lot more than you owe me.
– How much do I owe you?
She smiled.
– Nine pounds! – Mary laughed merrily. – I'd forgotten that you came from Poland! Is everything so expensive there?
– Yes, very expensive» I said, though I had no idea if it was true.
I had never bought groceries and didn't even know how much they cost. And I had never had much to do with paper money; I just transferred money to bank accounts.
– I'll give it to you when you change it. – Mary grabbed the bags and headed for the kitchen.
I followed her.
– What's that empty box in the hallway? – She asked, taking the groceries out of the bag and putting them on the table.
– I was just going to tell you about it: my parents sent me a parcel with a very important medicine» I said, helping her take out the groceries.
– Medicine? – Mary froze for a second with a baguette in her hands. – Are you sick?
– Yeah, I told you I'm allergic to almost everything. So I take a special medicine, and it's really nasty.
– I feel sorry for you. They used to give me castor oil when I was a kid, and it was disgusting!
I went to the fridge and opened the door.
– You see, these packets contain my medicine» I explained to Mary.
– Why do they look like tomato juice cartons? – she wondered.
She walked over to the fridge and picked up one of the packets.
«What a sight! Mary is twirling that packet in her hands and has no idea that it contains human blood and that her neighbour is a vampire!» – I giggled.
– I asked for it to be sent to me like that. It's simple psychology: I drink the medicine from this packet and I don't get so disgusted» I lied in a serious tone.
– Really? I didn't know you could do that. – Mary put the bag in the fridge and went back to the groceries from the shop.
– Yeah, I've been tested since I was six» I sighed.
– It's really sad when you can't have a festive treat at Christmas» she said thoughtfully. – It must be frustrating to watch everyone eating the goodies when you can't touch them yourself» she said thoughtfully.
– I was offended at first, but you get used to it» I lied desperately. – Mary, can I ask you something?
– Sure, what? – She looked at me.
– Don't open those packages even out of curiosity. Never» I said with a smile.
Mary's face stretched: of course I had asked her so 'politely'!
– Okay, whatever you say» Mary said, and shrugged her shoulders.
– Please don't take offence, I'm just very sensitive about these things» I hastened to justify myself.
– Me? Offended? Not at all! – she snorted. – I have my little quirks, too. For instance, I only wash my hair with one shampoo, and when I don't have it, I don't wash my hair at all until I buy it.
– Oh, wow! Oh, my God! – I exclaimed, politely marvelling at her «obsession».
– Yes, or another thing: sometimes I have insomnia, and I get scared to be alone in the room, and then I wake someone up. So be prepared for that.
– Oh, you're welcome: I often have insomnia too» – I was happy to hear her say that.
We began to put the food away, but I felt awkward the whole time. But Mary didn't take offence; she began to tell me about the tricks she'd done at school.
– Now let's cook something! – Mary opened the tap, washed her hands and took a piece of meat out of the fridge.
When I imagined the smells in the house, I hurried away, citing an urgent trip to the shop to get notebooks and pens for my studies. I grabbed my purse, quickly put on my sneakers and jacket, and stormed out of the house without even asking Mary where I could find the shop. But I found it quickly: there was a big bookshop in our street. I took some notebooks, two notebooks, eight pens of different colours to write the titles of topics and sections, some simple pencils, a ruler, a sharpener, an eraser, and took all this to the checkout. The cashier was a nice young man who smiled at me.
I put the items on the register and asked him to give me a bag.
– You must have just got in? Oxford? – The cashier suddenly asked, glancing at what I had brought.
– Yes» I answered briefly, not looking at him: I didn't want to talk to him.
– Which college? – He asked again.
– St John's» I answered reluctantly, glancing at him, but not really understanding why he was asking me that.
– I study there, too. Second year. It's a great college! – he said, putting my things in a bag and smiling at me.
– That's great. – I opened my wallet. – How much do I owe you?
– Twelve pounds» the guy replied.
I handed him the ill-fated hundred quid that Mary hadn't accepted. The guy counted out the change and gave it to me with the bag.
– You know what…» He hesitated. – If there's anything you need or don't understand, you can ask me: new student always have a hard time – I've been there myself.
– Thanks, I'll know. – I took the bags and quickly left the shop to avoid further pointless conversation with the brash salesman.
At that moment, I was reminded of how people around me react to my appearance. Looks, for crying out loud! It's like I'm a pretty wrapper! A beautiful doll with a void instead of a brain! I was even willing to put up with the horrible smells of Mary's food, just so I wouldn't have to face the attention of the people around me.
I got home, took off my sneakers and jacket, put the bag of stationery on the bed in my room, and went into the kitchen to ask Mary the question that had been bugging me.
– Mary, do you think I'm stupid? – I asked, as soon as I entered the kitchen.
– Wow, what a question! No, I don't think you're stupid. On the contrary, I think you're a very clever girl to have got into Oxford» Mary said, and ran the back of her hand over her face, leaving marks of anguish on it.
– Then why does everyone else think otherwise? – I asked resentfully.
– Who does?
– It's just that I heard two blokes talking today, and they thought I didn't get into Oxford because I'm smart.
– Don't listen to any idiots. How many idiots are there in the world? – Mary opened the lid of the pan and looked at the meat. – I'll tell you a big but banal secret: there are many losers in our town who couldn't get into any college, especially Oxford, so they get angry and take out their offence on everyone around them, especially on beautiful girls, because they are the easiest to offend.
– So it's all about my looks? – I was upset at the thought.
– Exactly: you are very beautiful and you make a stunning impression on people… Oh, I think the meat is burning! – Mary began to turn the meat over to the other side. – Even Harry said you're insanely beautiful, and he's very objective about women's beauty… He said if you weren't so thin, he'd fall in love with you.
– Don't mention it» I asked, feeling awkward and inexplicably ashamed: I was embarrassed to hear what Mary's brother thought of me. I didn't even feel bad that Harry had said that about me, and called me skinny.
– Just ignore it. People will soon get used to you and stop admiring you, and when you start studying, your fellow students will realise that you're also very smart» Mary advised me.
– I don't think I'm smart» I said. – I think they're all geniuses compared to me. You don't know how much I hate it when everyone stares at me like a mannequin in a shop window! I'm just an ordinary person!
– Be patient! – Mary threw it back at me.
– I was just flirted with by a guy from the bookshop» I grinned, remembering that.
– A guy? Tall? Blond? – Mary asked. Her eyes lit up.
– Yeah, I think so. Why, do you know him? – I wondered.
– How could I not? It's Andrew: I dated him this summer.
– And he was flirting with me! – I cringed. – God, that's disgusting! Ew!
– Don't be like that: he's a really nice guy. – Mary opened the tap and started washing her hands. – He and I parted very well, as friends. We just realised we weren't right for each other.
– Still, I feel really bad about it» I frowned.
– But Andrew doesn't know we're friends, and when he finds out, he'll be embarrassed, and he'll apologise for a long time, you'll see. The meat's ready! I'll set the table. Will you keep me company?
– Okay, I'll just change and come back» I answered and went to my room.
As I sat on the bed, I thought about how busy my second day had been. It was my second day living away from home and my vampire environment. My second day in the human world.
I changed into an old pair of jeans and a T-shirt and went back to the kitchen.
– I made you a salad: it's just tomatoes and cucumbers» Mary said, sitting down at the table.
I looked at the table by the window, where there were plates, forks, a large teapot, two mugs… And a deep plate of salad.
– Mary, you shouldn't have! – I felt terribly uncomfortable, and then I was afraid I'd have to eat the nasty stuff.
– I don't mind! – Mary replied, cutting into pieces the roast meat on her plate.
«She's so anxious to please me! It's so touching!» – ran through my head
– Thank you for taking care of me, but I can only eat fresh vegetables» I found myself seeing that the salad had been drizzled with sunflower oil.
– What a shame! Damn, there was no hurry! – Mary said annoyed. – But I'll get some fresh…
– No, don't! I'm not hungry! – I exclaimed hastily.
She raised her eyebrows in surprise and sat back in the chair from which she had already risen.
– You're awfully strange! – said my neighbour. – But I won't insist.
– Thank you. – I sat down opposite her.
While Mary ate her lunch, I sat on a chair with my hands on the table and looked out of the window. It was an incredible sensation to sit next to someone who was eating roast meat and potatoes and drinking tea. And it's going to happen a lot.
– When do you start school? – Mary asked.
– Monday» I said. – And I'm a little nervous.
– Of course you are. Do you know anyone there?
– No, nobody at all. But that's no problem.
Mary took a sip of tea.
– It must be so exciting: new people, new acquaintances! Are you going to join any hobby groups?
– I don't know yet» I admitted. – I have to…
Suddenly there was a persistent loud knock on the door.
– Who is it? Are you expecting someone? – Mary asked me.
– I don't know anyone here but you! – I answered, surprised at the unexpected visitor, and listened: someone was shuffling from foot to foot, his heels clicking on the stairs.