My Ice Prince

«But she's right: how do I know he's a rascal? Maybe he didn't do anything wrong at all. Yes, he hit me, but even then you have to be objective: it was my fault for the accident – I didn't want to ride on the bike path myself. And when he came over today, I yelled at him and started blaming him. Why? Why? Because I found out he was the vampire I was forbidden to even talk to? – I wondered. – How weird and stupid was that? And he had a right to think I was hysterical, like Cedric had been… No, I shouldn't make excuses for him: he'd read my letter! He opened the envelope with my name written in black and white and read it. He didn't dare do that! It's not his personal item, it's mine!»

– You're only mad at him because the psychologically heavy word «ban» was said about him. Very silly, in my opinion» Mary said confidently.

I immediately wanted to tell her that he had read my letter and had no right to do so, but I gave up the idea: Mary had, with a few sentences, reduced my anger at Frederik.

«Okay. I really don't know anything about him, and I have no reason to think he's a scoundrel, much less to hate him. When he does something mean to me, then I'll hate him. I'll have the right» I decided. – Right now, it was pointless and ridiculous to hate him just because I'd been told to. Mary was right: the word «forbidden» always becomes a psychological factor in unconscious dislike. And he's right, as is Cedric: I'm acting like a child, and I thought I'd outgrown that role. I must have been flattering myself, intoxicated by the mere step of getting into Oxford… And in fact, my reasoning and actions remained childish and naive!»

These thoughts suffocated me, and I again acted like a child and did what I had long dreamed of doing: I locked myself in the bathroom and cried there until Mary asked me to come in.

When morning came, I looked outside and saw my bent blue bicycle.

«Riding to college on that handicapped thing? No! I'd rather walk!» – I thought grudgingly.

I washed my face, did my morning jog, took a quick shower, dried my hair, put on my uniform, put my hair in a high ponytail, grabbed my bag, put on my shoes, and quietly left the house so as not to wake up my roommate: she slept late again after watching movies all night and didn't get to bed until three in the morning.

Walking down to my bike, I stopped. I was sad: the bike was disgusting and sad, and the back wheel was bent so badly that I wondered how I had made it home yesterday. I thought about buying a new bike, but it was very early, the stores weren't open yet, and I didn't know any of the places that sold bikes. I even got angry at myself for my thoughtlessness, because I could have easily fixed the blue invalid, and I should have done it yesterday or at night, instead of sitting in my room and crying! But there was nothing to do, it was a long walk, so with a sigh I got on my bicycle and rode to the college. I was terribly ashamed to ride my bike, but I comforted myself with the thought that after the lectures I would give it to the repair shop. When I got to the college, I leaned the bike against the fence, put a lock on it (though hardly anyone would be tempted by it in its condition), and went to meet Ellie.

She was already waiting for me.

– You're here already? I'm sorry I'm late: I'm having trouble with my bike» I apologized as I approached her.

Ellie was a very pretty girl: long, thick, dark hair, high forehead, beautiful gray eyes, she was very friendly, and it was nice to be in her company.

We entered the college, gave our coats to the checkroom, put on our robes and caps, and went to find the right classrooms.

– Did you sign up for any classes? – Ellie asked me.

– No. Do I have to? – I was surprised.

– No one's forcing anyone» she smiled. – It's just that there are a lot of clubs at college, and a lot of sports teams and sections for different sports. What are you into, for example?

I wondered: can playing snowballs be considered a sport?

– I like a lot of things, but now I can't choose something specific, – I honestly admitted. – I can, though: I like to play badminton.

– You see, you can sign up there. And you don't have to choose one thing – you can be in twenty clubs at the same time. I signed up for theater, music, church singing, reading, and more. I'll have to look at the schedules for all of them» Ellie told me.

– Music class? Do you play an instrument? – I asked.

– Yes, the saxophone.

– Wow, that's great. I don't know how to play anything… But my brother always says I'm a master of playing on nerves.

«Everyone here is incredibly talented! And I can't even play anything! Nerves don't count!» – I thought with a

– Well, I'll think about it at my leisure, and I'll definitely sign up for a club» I promised Ellie.

We parted and went to our classrooms.

When I walked in, I felt awkward as many students immediately turned their heads toward me. The attention made me nervous and I sat almost in the front row.

It was the first lecture of my life, and I was excited and happy at the same time: I was sitting in an Oxford auditorium! There were a hundred people around me, though, and it was disconcerting: I knew very little about people and college classes, having only seen them in movies and TV shows.

I could feel someone's eyes on me the whole time, but I didn't try to find out who it was: I thought that if I fidgeted, I would look frivolous and stupid. I was already very awkward: at recess, many guys would not take their eyes off me and ask me how I was doing. At those moments, I wished I was invisible.

As the classes came to an end, I was so mentally exhausted that I wanted to get away from the college as soon as possible. I took off my robe and cap, put on my coat, and walked briskly towards my bike.

– Sweet blondie, wait a minute! – I suddenly heard behind my back.

I turned around and saw that a guy was coming toward me. I was confused, but I thought that maybe he wanted to ask me about my schedule or to give me something, otherwise he wouldn't be late.

I immediately realized that I was dealing with a Playboy: expensive, carefully selected ironed suit, expensive, leather, rubbed to a shine shoes, expensive black coat. All of this was accompanied by an obnoxious, sugary-sweet smile and gel-smooth hair.

– Hi. – He held out his hand to me.

– Hi. – I wanted to shake his hand, but he intercepted my palm and brought it to his lips. I pulled it away.

– I'm sorry, I couldn't resist: you're so damn beautiful» the Playboy said with a flattering smile as he looked me over.

I felt like he was just groping me with that stare-it was unpleasant and damnably insolent, and I wanted to leave.

– What did you want? – I asked him directly.

– To know your name, beautiful. You ran off so fast and didn't even leave your precious slipper.

«Oh, that's it… He's trying to hit on me» I thought tiredly.

It was fu

– It would be weird if I walked around in the same shoe. And anyway, my shoes are very expensive, more expensive than yours, so I don't throw them around» I told him wryly. – Stupid idea, don't even try!

Bypassing the Playboy, I continued on my way to my bike, but I heard the guy mutter to himself under his nose: «We'll see about that, sweetheart»

The nasty conversation with this Playboy, who probably thought he was a god, made me feel as disgusted as if a bucket of mud had been poured on me.

I walked out to the alley where I had left my bike and suddenly saw last night's guest, Frederik Haraldson, fiddling with my bike.

«What does he want?» – I thought grudgingly, quickening my step.