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“princess”…

Sabrina got into Claire’s car and they drove off, but not before Claire had blown her horn excitedly to say she found my new ride extremely cool. We drove to the university in silence; the mood had been expertly spoiled by a certain someone we all knew.

So, let’s sum it all up. At the age of twenty-four, I live in a quirky greenhouse house, own a splendid car, and a slightly crazy but brave cat… The cat! I nearly forgot to mention that I am an official and proud owner of a cat named Gigantor, whom I had found and rescued from a sewer on Toulouse Street. He had been rather bad and almost ready to depart this world, but still managed to pull through.

His eyes are like spinning saucers and his color a strange brownish-black; he is unapologetically obese for his breed, and has a disturbing habit of eating toothpaste.

The first time I had caught him in the act I got so scared and I rushed him to the nearest vet clinic. It’s not every day that you see your cat drop dead on the floor, literally foaming at the mouth. I was ready to swear on the Bible that my cat was

having an epileptic seizure until I smelled the sharp scent of mint. Every month now, consistently, I find a partially bitten, sometimes heavily chewed, tube of toothpaste. And Gigantor writhes in “terrifying agony of paste-plexis seizures.”

Having observed him for many years, I can confidently say that he gets a certain thrill from it. Occasionally, he has bouts of inexplicable heroism, and secretly watching how passionately and courageously my cat attacks the sprinklers installed in the greenhouse, I can assert with all responsibility that in his past life, Gigantor was none other than a brave and valiant warrior fiercely attacking a mortal enemy…

So, that’s how we live, me and my apathetic, toothpaste-eating cat warrior, alone in a greenhouse, surrounded by bushes. What else? Oh yes, the number of piercings in my ears has reached three. I got new tattoos. Also in stock: a best friend who’s a drunkard, his sister who’s a witch, but showing no hint of any gift whatsoever, an ancient Order, and…

The door to the lecture hall creaked softly and pulled me out of my self-analysis that would have made both Schopenhauer and Nietzsche feel jealous and lacking.

I raised my head, trying to make out the person who had so boldly interrupted my philosophical reflections. It was she, and she was late. Naturally. Lately, that’s all she’s been doing, being late. My curiosity satisfied, I leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes.

“Sorry for being late,” Sabrina said in a quiet, low voice; it trembled, betraying a slight nervousness. “Well, well,” I thought, “someone is worried about missing out on learning” So, she does have a sense of duty after all, just probably buried so deep inside her that she herself doesn’t even know it exists.

“No worries, Miss Venters, please come in,” Mrs. Preston replied.

Satisfied again that nothing major was happening, I closed my eyes and tried to go back to my self-reflection mode when I felt a slight movement next to me.

“Hey, I’m actually sleeping here,” I grumbled.

“Oh, please, never mind me, as always” Sabrina replied.

I gave her a fleeting glance. Yes, beautiful as always. But something was amiss.

Where had all her animosity gone? Not even trying to kick me, as usual?

“I can’t believe my eyes. You actually sat down next to me. Is this a new form of self-flagellation?” I asked sarcastically.

Sabrina didn’t respond but kept staring at the lecturer, pretending I didn’t exist. I looked at her pale face. It seemed like she had shrunk even more, dark circles under her eyes, her hands slightly trembling. Something was up with Sabrina. The only question was how to get her to respond to this “What?”

“Sabrina,” I called quietly.

No reaction.

“Sabrina,” silence.

Oh, how annoying she can sometimes be – by simply ignoring me! Suppressing the burning desire to strangle her, I took her hand. It was cold and it was shaking.

Slowly, she turned to me.

“I thought you were sleeping,” she whispered coldly.

“It's hard to sleep when you're around, dear,” I purred in response. “But…What's wrong? You look troubled.”

“Nothing. Just tired. Lots of work, and then there's Eric…”

Sabrina frowned and freed her hand.

“I have no choice but to… Jack, please talk to him! Please! He’s wrecking the house! Maybe I’m exaggerating, but… Anyway… I can’t handle him alone,” she blurted out in one breath, biting her lip, staring at me expectantly for a reaction.

For a fraction of a second, it seemed to me that I saw a wild spark in her eyes.

She was indeed trembling slightly, sweat appearing on her forehead. Noticing me scrutinizing her, Sabrina casually ran her hand through her hair and glanced at Mrs.

Preston. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t about Eric going wild.

“How are you feeling, Sabi?” I whispered.

“Probably caught a cold, the weather isn’t great, and I was out on the street all day yesterday,” she replied.

“Caught a cold?” I muttered suspiciously.

“Yeah, Jack, and I decided not to miss the opportunity to sit next to you and infect you to hell, ” she hissed angrily.

She’s snapping back. So, everything isn’t as bad as it had seemed. We spent the rest of the class in silence, occasionally glancing at each other, not exchanging another word. After an endlessly long hour, the long-awaited bell rang, signaling the end of my mental torment. I stood up, stretched, yawned, and… Sabrina was looking at me as if she wanted to ask something.

“What?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“Nothing,” she hesitantly made her way to the exit. Rather hesitantly. What a day it’s been, huh? A real mess. I watched her miniature figure recede, trying to understand what was happening to her. Everything was different today. Sabrina was different. She was wearing baggy black sweatpants and a khaki hoodie. Old, worn-out sneakers adorned her feet. What’s wrong with her? She pulled the hood over her head, put on a leather jacket, and walked unsteadily down the corridor.

Unable to think of anything smarter to do, I followed her. Then Claire dashed past me like a little tornado. Oh, this omnipresent Claire!

“Hey, Jack!” she squealed and rushed on.

I put on my coat, wrapped the scarf around my neck, and headed towards the exit, stopping by the girls and, pretending to be searching my pockets for a lighter.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Sabrina staring at me. After a moment’s thought, I concluded that if she wanted to talk to me, she’d find a way to swallow her pride and descend to the level of mere mortals. And until then, there was no need to worry. As I stepped outside, I overheard her telling Claire that she would be going home alone by tram today. “Since when does Sabrina take the tram home?” I wondered, heading towards my car. Well, it’s time to visit an old friend before he forgets my name altogether.