of a girl with whom I’d been at war for as long as I can remember myself. And even if it was just for one evening, this thought somehow warmed me much more than Louisiana’s fickle September sun.
“Hey, you!” a familiar voice called from behind.” “Can I have a cigarette?”
“Eric, when will you start buying your own?” I asked, reaching into my pocket for a pack. Eric grinned widely and shrugged.
“When they get cheaper. Which means never,” he replied with a smirk and took a deep breath. “I quit!”
“Well done!” I rejoiced, patting my friend approvingly on the shoulder.
“I’m gonna go check on Betty…” Eric announced suddenly.
“Again?”
“Yeah, I want her to be happy for me too,” Eric chuckled and headed towards the university office.
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one having a good day. I smiled and headed back to the campus. I needed to draft an article for “The Guardian” and I thought I’d do that during the remaining classes.
Then I noticed Sabrina. She was telling Claire something enthusiastically, with Claire widening her eyes and gasping in surprise. They were probably discussing something extremely important and terribly girlish.
I felt my cellphone vibrating in my pocket.
“We’re waiting for you at our place. 6 PM. DON’T BE LATE!"
My mood took a deep plunge. Mom was commanding me to come for dinner…
With a heavy heart, brooding, I headed towards the parking lot. Then I stopped.
“Sabrina! What’s wrong?” Claire’s cry brought me back to reality. Hearing her familiar voice, I instinctively turned and looked in their direction. And then I saw Sabrina crouch down, clutching her stomach. Her face was unrecognizable. She shut her eyes, breathing rapidly, apparently trying to overcome a sharp pain. I was at Claire’s side in an instant. She was confused and horrified by the sudden development.
“What’s wrong with her, Jack?” Claire asked, genuinely concerned.
“I don’t know,” I mumbled.
She was absolutely fine not more than half an hour ago in our history class.
There were no signs of illness or discomfort.
“Expired yogurt,” Sabrina mumbled.
“What?” Claire and I asked simultaneously, each making our own assumptions.
“The yogurt I had for breakfast was probably expired,” Sabrina muttered, looking off into the distance.
“Maybe you should go home? Or better yet, straight to the hospital!” Claire suggested, still frightened.
“Just not the hospital! But home is fine,” Sabrina said resolutely, tucking a strand of hair away from her face.
“Jack, could you take her home? I can’t miss the next class,” Claire said, regret in her voice.
“Of course. No problem.”
There really shouldn’t be any problem. My mother is one of the few highly respected professors at the university, and I shamelessly take advantage of that sometimes.
“Don’t worry, Claire. She’ll be okay,” I reassured the girl. “Go.”
Claire got unsteadily to her feet and, after a brief pause, headed towards the campus.
Sabrina let out a loud sigh and attempted to get up herself.
“Need a lift?” I offered.
She gave me a dismissive look, struggling not to be her usual rude self again.
“I can manage on my own for now”, she replied dryly and straightened up.
“Oh, you are better now! Well, please yourself…” I was aching to leave her to it and teach her pride a good lesson.
Still, I helped her to her feet and walked her to my car. She sank heavily into the seat next to mine and rested her forehead against the cool window pane.
“And how long…”, I began asking as I inserted the key into the ignition.
“Not a word!” she hissed, and that ended the conversation.
Parking near her house in the Garden District, I finally dared to look at Sabrina.
She looked completely shattered and worn out.
“Let’s go. I’ll stay with you until Eric arrives.” She didn’t respond, but nodded wearily and got out of the car.
“I want to take a shower,” she said upon entering the house, not giving me a chance to say a word, and left me alone.
Thirty long minutes later, Sabrina emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in an old terry robe. Her wet hair was disheveled on her slender shoulders, a healthy flush had returned to her cheeks, although her movements still seemed a bit distracted. She walked into the living room, sat down in her grandfather’s favorite armchair, and looked at me intently.
“Don’t ask,” Sabrina whispered softly, as if reading my thoughts.
“I want to know what’s happening to you. And I’m sure Eric does too.”
Sabrina lowered her head for a moment, and when she looked up again, I froze in confusion. Tears glistened in her eyes. But apart from tears, there was something else, but I couldn’t quite make it out just what. Fear? Perhaps. But what was she afraid of? That was what I had to find out…
Chapter 9
Michelle De Manshand
I continued to silently observe her. As if in response to this, Sabrina wrinkled her nose, casually tossed her wet hair back, and began pacing the room. She furrowed her brows repeatedly, pondering whether she could trust me. After several minutes of continuous pacing, she stopped by the window. Another loud sigh escaped her lips, filled with so much anguish that my heart nearly stopped.
“Come on, what’s wrong? ” I asked as gently as possible.
“You won’t believe it,” the girl whispered softly, covering her face with her hands.
“Maybe just start, and we’ll take it from there? Trust me, I believe in a lot of things,” I encouraged her.
She pondered for a few seconds, then looked at me fearfully.
“And you won’t tell anyone? ”
I raised an eyebrow questioningly.
“I mean, you won’t tell anyone that I’ve lost it and won’t start teasing me about it?”
“Are you kidding? Watching you in pain doesn’t bring me any pleasure, even remotely, ” and that was the absolute truth. “And I don’t believe you survive solely on expired food, ” I muttered. To my immense relief, she smiled.
“Okay, I’ll try. ”
Sabrina settled comfortably on the couch, contemplating where to begin her story.
“It all started on January twenty-fourth. Exactly a year after my grandfather’s passing.”
“Yeah, I remember,” my voice betrayed me slightly, but Sabrina didn’t seem to notice.
“That night, I…” she suddenly fell silent and took a deep breath. “That night, I heard his voice for the first time. In my sleep.”
I furrowed my brow but didn’t say anything. Instead, I cleared my throat, indicating to Sabrina that she should continue her story.
“I didn’t think much of it then, dismissing it as just a weird dream. But soon the dream recurred, becoming clearer. And another voice joined Alex’s. A woman’s voice. Then images appeared, becoming clearer and more distinct with each new dream. They argued about something, and… sometimes Grandpa yelled at her. And then the voices disappeared,