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«There's that flatterer again!» – I thought with a chuckle when I saw among the girls and guys the very same Playboy.

– I know this guy: he's been hitting on me since the beginning of the school year» I said quietly to my friend, and she laughed mockingly. – He's always talking such nonsense!

– I don't like him either: he's kind of slick. And his hair is awful. The guy who hit you by a car is much handsomer, and his hair is marvelous. I've never seen such great hair on a guy. And his hairstyle is cool, and that slick guy's hair looks like it's greased up» Mary said.

I'd forgotten all about Frederik Haraldson. Luckily, he was very unobtrusive.

– By the way, what's the name of the guy? – Mary asked.

– What guy?

– The one who hit you by a car. That's it! The masterpiece is over!

Mary clapped her hands, and I ran my palm through my hair and found that it was now in an oddly braided braid.

– Mary, you're a talent! – I admired you sincerely.

– And let me make you another hairstyle? Would you like to? – Mary asked, immediately grasping my hair.

I didn't want to interrupt her euphoria.

– Come on, I'm curious» I replied.

She started to unravel my braid.

– What's his name?

– Why do you want to know?

– Maybe I like him, okay?

– Is it that serious? – I played along with my friend.

– No, of course not: I've been hopelessly in love with Andrew for a long time.

– Then why did you break up?! – I asked, startled by the news.

– I was a fool, and I didn't like the fact that he was so clever, and I was just a dummy next to him» Mary said.

– But that's a good thing: he's older and wiser, he can teach you a lot, and if he dated you, he didn't care about the difference in your education. Isn't that right? – I suggested with a laugh.

– Why are you laughing? – Mary asked, laughing too.

– I just think you're terribly contradictory!

– I am not!

– I am.

– No, I'm not!

– Okay, I'll shut up! – I grinned.

She was a pleasure to fool around with: Mary was always easy to wind up. And so was I.

She sighed and began to braid a new braid for me.

– What's his name?

– Oh, God, Mary! You're doing it again, aren't you?

– Yeah, and I'm not getting off on you.

– His name is Frederik Haraldson! – I finally gave in.

– I think he has a Scandinavian surname. Don't you think? – Mary remarked.

– I don't know, I never thought about it.

– So you think I should call him?

– Why would you call Frederik? – I wondered.

– What does that Swede have to do with it? – She grumbled unhappily.

– What makes you think he's Swedish?

– I don't know but let him be Swedish. I was talking about Andrew!

– Then what's Frederik got to do with it?

– Who's Frederik?!

– You started it! – I reminded you with a laugh. – You were trying so hard to find out his name.

– To hell with him!

– Then why did you ask?

– I don't know, I was just curious. Okay, can we be serious? – Mary sounded annoyed.

– Seriously, call your Andrew.

– I mean, let's say. What am I gonna tell him?

– Ask him out. – I started thinking of all the things I'd seen in the movies.

– Out? Are you crazy? No, I'm not gonna ask him out! And I'm not calling him either» Mary said in a firm tone.

– Then why are you asking my advice if you've already made up your mind? – I laughed involuntarily.

– Because you're my friend, and I want your opinion! – Mary pulled my hair. – Stop laughing already! Do you think it's funny? It's not!

– If you have any more questions or advice about relationships, I'll warn you right away: I'm a total zero in this area! – I warned honestly.

– You'll be nineteen in a month, and you haven't dated anyone yet? – Mary exclaimed. – You're a spinster!

***

«So she is nineteen! Just as I suspected. Of course, she's still very naive and stupid!» – I was astonished. I felt ashamed that not so long ago thoughts of admiration for her had been running through my mind. What the hell! She's so stupid! A green currant! She's nineteen!

Misha called me by name for the first time, but for some reason «Frederik», with an «e», but without the previously obligatory clarification «Haraldson». And what did she say about the difference in age and intellectual level? Magical. But not so much: she was very young and untrained for life – it was obvious from her stupid behavior. Misha was deeply mistaken: an intelligent person could not long endure the stupidity of another, no matter how strong their feelings were. Unfortunately, the stupidity of one always suppresses the wisdom of the other.

Misha and Mary were talking about such nonsense as only naive young girls who know nothing about real life or the world around them talk about.

The distance between me and the two chatterboxes was too great for Misha, with her childish eyesight, to see my hiding place from where I was watching them: people's hearing and eyesight deteriorate with age, but ours, on the contrary, only become more acute, and I was still a very young vampire. I pretended to read, but I was actually listening to the conversation between the two girlfriends, and when Misha let her beautiful hair down, I slammed the book shut and admired her. Admiring her, and she was nineteen. She would be in a month. I shouldn't have thought of her at all, except as a silly girl who needed my help. Strangely, when I didn't know how old she was, I couldn't even believe she was that young. And now that I knew she wasn't even fifty… No, not even thirty, I was confused, but felt nothing but annoyance at her behavior and, inexplicably, a friendly disposition.

«She's all alone here. And how did the Mroczeks think to let her out of the house? To let her go alone, in human society, at that age! Where were they looking? Who's going to teach her about life? Where is she going with this mortal? Why wasn't it explained to her that it was forbidden to be friends with mortals? This damsel is behaving in a fundamentally wrong way!» – I thought unhappily as I watched the two girls.

Now I definitely didn't want to have any relationship with her. Consciously. So I stopped listening to the conversation of the girls and wanted to leave. But something was holding me back.

«Why is she doing all this? Living with a mortal, walking in the park, sunbathing in the sun, talking about nonsense! – I continued to ponder. – He behaves like a human being, even though Maria’s letter says in black and white: 'Don't socialize with people'! But Misha ignores all the rules, except one: «Do not communicate with Fredrik Haraldson»

I was overcome with contradictory feelings: on the one hand, I had a low opinion of Misha, but at the same time, I felt sorry for her. For some reason, I was very worried about her future: she was too human, and that quality is unnatural for a vampire and goes against all vampire laws.