My Ice Prince

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 stu

– 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 ski

– 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 ma

– Be patient! – Mary threw it back at me.

– I was just flirted with by a guy from the bookshop» I gri

– 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?