My Ice Prince - стр. 51

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 funny: I smiled involuntarily at his vulgar compliment, and he must have mistaken my mockery for a smile of gratitude, because he immediately brightened up.

– 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.

As I approached the vampire, I was displeased to find that he was removing the «super-secure» lock from my bike, as Mary and I had been assured by the police.

Haraldson raised a cold stare at me.

– Don't get hysterical. I just want to compensate you for yesterday's damage» he said sternly.

His words hurt me: what made him think I would scream?

– I wasn't. – The resentment was eating at me. – Let me ask you what you're doing with my bike`?

***

Misha gave me a frown.

– I bought you a new one» I answered, unlocking the bike, standing up and looking down at the girl: she was tall enough, but her top barely reached my shoulders. Misha 's left shoulder was slightly raised.

«There she goes again, combing her hair like that. Doesn't she hate walking around like this?» – I thought, glancing at her ugly hair.

– But I didn't ask you to do anything» she said absently. – And I certainly didn't ask you to take the lock off my bike. The police gave it to me because it's very secure.

– Even a first-grader could open that lock» I grinned mockingly and handed her the damn lock.