Fall in love in a weekwe get by

– Really? Should the radiance of Mr. Applestone's irresistible charm have hidden this unromantic little book from you? Maybe he was also trying to pity you?

“Of course,” I walked to my desk and quickly looked through my mail. Nothing urgent. “Professor Norwood is such a beast that he will certainly find something to complain about, and without checking the reference book, the unfortunate young man will immediately become doubly unhappy.” But he has some of the best results on the course, not like some Obli.

– Did he say so? – Norwood’s eyebrow rose.

– Not literally, but close. For some reason he decided that I should feel sorry for him. After he almost hit both of us with sharp glass!

“Probably because his verses and fiery glances were supposed to melt your already not too icy heart.” But you and Mr. Applestone, of course, know better. Goodbye, Miss Blair. Be careful with portals. No Scottish moors will cancel tomorrow's working day.

“Anomalies are just anomalies because they don’t repeat themselves twice,” I answered frivolously. – See you tomorrow, professor.

***

"My home is my castle". Only when I found myself in Charlotte’s almost native living room did I give vent to my emotions.

– answer, unfinished Barbie, were you flirting with this… this trembling male doe? Also, probably, in front of the professor?! ? Now I have to sort it out!

– It’s hard to call this flirting. He showed signs of attention. Charlotte accepted them, nothing more.

“I accepted it favorably,” I clarified. – And now one thinks that he can afford too much, and the second…

I couldn’t even imagine what the second one was thinking. But hardly flattering for Charlotte. And I only have four days left to correct the impression, to somehow interest him, to make him fall in love… and to fall in love myself, but this may be easier than I was afraid. All the more offensive.

“Sending you into the swamp turned out to be a good idea,” the ghost said thoughtfully. “But it won’t work a second time.” There is another opportunity, but it is not me who should give it to you.

“You should think of sending me to the North Pole,” I snapped. – With one blanket for two. Four days. And he was running around this damn swamp for herbs. What's the point?!

“You turned out to be not such a burdensome company for him as expected.” He turned out to be more humane to you than usual. There is a point. But the North Pole… No, too many magical costs.

God, she also took it seriously! Never joke with ghosts.

“It was a joke,” I explained, just in case. Otherwise, if she digs up magical reserves somewhere, she will be done. And Norwood and I will have to act out a scene from a romantic comedy: “two Indians under one blanket did not freeze.” – What other possibility were you talking about?

– Sabella Norwood's birthday. Day after tomorrow. It is quite possible that you will be there. But not with my help.

September ninth. Ostrich leather gloves noted by Norwood in the ad. God, Sabella…what a terrible birthday she's in for. She knows everything…

– She knows. I think that if she celebrates, she won’t even have to impose herself, she herself won’t miss the opportunity to let us talk outside of the academy. But is she really interested in the holidays now?

– Precisely to give you an opportunity. Of course she will celebrate. And he will call you.

But it will be the day after tomorrow. And there will be two days left. Just two.

Melancholy and hopelessness – that’s what I felt now. And no amount of tricks and assurances from Charlotte could interrupt this.

– Everything is not as bad as you think. “Don’t despair,” she said finally and disappeared.

Otherworldly comforter! "Don't despair"! It's easy for her to talk. It seems that during these three days, Charlotte’s ghost managed to forget what it was like to be alive and experience emotions. And I didn’t want to become the same at all! Dead and soulless. They also say that ghosts are a cast of the soul. Or am I confusing something? I have never been interested in otherworldly mysticism.

To somehow distract myself, I decided to spend the evening in front of the TV. At least I’ll look at the magical new world this way.

She sat down in front of the screen and commanded:

– Turn on. Show me Sydney. Otherwise, it seems like I won’t really get there anymore.

“Inexpensive last-minute trips, order a guide, rooms in the best hotels…” the announcer tried to suggest, and I barked:

– No. Can you show a banal panorama of the city or not?! Without advertising!