It has been a week since my conversation with Eric, who could now be dubbed as a near saintly teetotaler. The guy was doing his utmost not to let me down. He constantly called, telling me about what was happening in his sister’s life outside the university walls. Now she suddenly felt unwell, now she behaved like a total bitch (‘what’s new and unusual about that?’ I would think then), now she burst into tears for no reason. And she also had a new admirer… Nothing strange about that either, there was always a bunch of admirers circling around Sabrina.
“And she’s not sleeping well,” Eric would say.
“And she doesn’t handle stress well?”
“No.”
“Well, that’s not good. Then there’s nothing interesting.”
I stepped out of the shower, nibbled on burnt toast and coffee, quickly got dressed: black jeans, a white sleeveless t-shirt with “The Wretched” printed on it (which was an accurate description for my current state of mind), and a thick, black hoodie. In short, an outfit befitting the gloomy weather, and my mood. Once
again, my attention was drawn to the cat, which had noticeably grown in size recently.
“We seriously need to think about your diet,” I grumbled and stroked the cat’s head, rewarded with a loud purr.
“Lately, all you do is eat. And in excessive amounts, just like me. And we need to try to eliminate toothpaste from your diet,” not waiting for any objections, I left the house.
Parking the car near the administration building, I focused on what I was going to do to annoy Betty once again. A plethora of questions interrupted my thinking though. My mind switched back to Sabrina. How do I talk to her? Lately, her behavior has been confusing. Not strange, but just confusing. Not that we had stopped “feuding” but now everything was somehow different.
I couldn’t resist a smug smirk. There was the answer to the agonizing question of how to annoy Betty again. Entering the hall, I slammed the door mightily, causing the windows to rattle. A blonde head emerged from behind the administrator’s desk immediately. There was so much anger in her gray eyes that if it could take physical form, she would have pinned me down and lynched me there and then.
“Oops, sorry Betty. Didn’t mean to scare you. We need to put a ‘Don’t Slam’
sign on the door ,” I barely suppressed a laugh.
“It’s already there, you idiot!” the girl squealed, her voice becoming even raspier with anger.
“Apologize right now! I don’t come in here insulting you!” I exclaimed, mockingly offended.
“Oh, you!”
A passing professor made the girl freeze and lower her voice to a whisper.
“I wish I could tie you to a radiator and rip out all your piercings so you’d bleed and…”
“Sorry, Bet, but your sexual fantasies don’t interest me. Now, tell me, where’s Mrs. Renton?”
There was a crash, and I felt the windows shake again, and Betty’s eyes sparkled with fury once more.
“Oh, damn, sorry Bet! I didn’t mean to!” Eric’s voice barely contained laughter.
“I hate you both!” Betty muttered angrily to herself, almost crying with rage.
“Hey! We’re still here!” Eric said, stepping away from the schedule board and parking next to me. Betty shot him a deadly look and turned away with an air of disdain, leaving him grabbing at his heart theatrically over her wrath I approvingly noted that he looked pretty good today. Clean-shaven, combed hair, although a haircut was overdue.
