Escort For The Witch - стр. 7
Jack looked at his mother again with reproach and once again struggled to suppress a smile. The woman clearly didn’t expect such a retort from her son and froze, her mouth slightly open in confusion. “And don’t blame Eric. He’s depressed… he’s going through a lot."
“Plantings, you say, he’ll ruin? Mess up everything around?” Jack, I’m not arguing, Eric’s a good guy, but this… what’s her name…” Mrs. Renton paused, trying to recall.
“Sarah.”
“Yes, Sarah. He’s become irresponsible! We can’t rely on him anymore,” Mrs.
Renton exclaimed with concern and unmistakable worry in her voice.
Jack swallowed loudly, looking away from the floor where he was now inspecting a curious dark spot, and met his mother’s gaze, as green as his own.
“And what do you want me to do about it? Should I personally check all his scribbles before sending them to you? Make corrections?”
Mrs. Renton turned to the teacher’s desk and casually remarked, “Now you’ll keep an eye on Sabrina.”
“How do you imagine that ?” Jack growled, slamming his hand on the table, where he still sat, despite his mother’s accusatory and meaningful glances. “Have you lost your mind or what?”
“Starting today,” Mrs. Renton said calmly, ignoring her son’s wave of anger.
“No way! That girl has been aching to tear my throat out! Since childhood!”
“So there’s a reason for that. Since childhood till now,” Mrs. Renton retorted, rising on her tiptoes to water the flowers spaced unevenly on the windowsill and hanging shelves.
Jack nervously ran his hand through his hair, took a deep breath, and put on his most pleading expression.
“Mom…”
“Jack.”
“She hates me!”
“So, make her change her mind about you.”
“Mom…”
“Not up for discussion. And get Eric out of his binge, or he’ll mess things up again and won’t even remember. Report back in a week.”
“About Eric?” Jack asked, resigned.
“About both!” Mrs. Renton replied dismissively, and gracefully spun around on her heels to prepare reagents and concentrates for the upcoming lesson.
There was a timid knock on the door, making Jack jump off the table and briskly walk out of the classroom, slamming the door right in a bewildered student’s face.
Outside, after a few deep breaths, he reached into his jacket pocket for a pack of cigarettes and lit up. All around him, the students were scampering like rats, trying to dodge the falling raindrops. A moment later, he tossed the untouched cigarette away and trudged towards building ‘B’ .
“Well, what mess have you gotten yourself into now, buddy? I guess I should thank my grandpa for adopting a one-year-old son of one of the guardians of the
‘Guardian’ Order, who had died tragically on a mission twenty-three years ago, and then adopting a newborn girl and naming her Sabrina and giving her his own surname – Venters. Oh, I forgot to mention that this girl, by an accidental turn of events, turned out to be a descendant of one of the oldest French families, whose women have been known for centuries as witches and some of whom have been living in New York since the nineteenth century. Apart from their good looks, these generational witches are known to be endowed with peculiar and inexplicable talents, inexplicable in the eyes of an ordinary person, that is.