Mary_Poppins: переводы

→"And you must be Ever," he says, retracting his hand, the one I hadn't even noticed was extended and waiting to be shaken until he pulled it away.

→Even when he flashes me one of those languid, easy, make-your-heart-swoon kind of smiles, I'm so on edge, I can't seem to return it.

→I look at him, taking in the bright yellow aura that swirls all around him, its edges extended, beckoning, like a friendly group hug. But when I take in his deep navy blue eyes, tanned skin, blond tousled hair, and casual clothes with just the right amount of hipster chic —despite his good looks, my first reaction is to run away.

→And I narrow my gaze, wondering how he could've had enough time to intervene on Miles's complexion issues when it's the first I've yet to see of him.

→"Thanks for the reminder." Miles scowls, his finger seeking the spot on his chin —only it's no longer there. His eyes go wide, looking to each of us for confirmation that his mammoth-sized zit, the bane of this morning's existence, really is gone. And I can't help but wonder if its sudden disappearance is because of me, because of when I touched it this morning, back in the parking lot. Which would mean I really do have magical healing abilities.

→"Omigod, you are so funny!" Haven says, leaning forward and briefly touching the new guy's hand. Smiling in a way that makes it clear her new boyfriend, Josh, her self-proclaimed soul mate, has been temporarily forgotten. "Too bad you missed it, Ever, he's so hysterical Miles even forgot to obsess on his zit!"

→I lean against the edge of the table, watching as they all break into laughter at something the new guy said. And not wanting to interrupt or come off as rude, I take the seat across from Damen rather than right beside him in my usual place.

→But when I get there, it's not quite the homecoming I expected. There's a new guy sitting beside him, right in my usual place, and he's soaking up so much attention, Damen barely notices me.

→Then before I can say anything else that will not only dash his dreams but confirm the full extent of my freakdom, I sling my bag over my shoulder and run for the door, shrugging off the last of Mr. Munoz's lingering energy as I make my way toward the lunch table where Damen is waiting —eager to be with him again after three very long hours apart.

→So I motion toward the stain on his shirt when I add, "You know, her, Miss Iced Venti Chai Latte?" I nod, seeing the alarmed look on his face. "I doubt she'll be back. She doesn't really go all that often."

→And even though I know I've gone too far, even though I know I'm about to say something as far from normal as you can get, I really don't feel I have much of a choice. I cannot have my history teacher dating my aunt. I can't tolerate it. I just can't.

→He looks at me, brows merged, trying to make sense of my words.

→But then I remember how just a few months ago I had a vision of Sabine dating some cute guy in her building. And since Munoz works here, and Sabine works there, I figure there's really no threat of my two worlds colliding. But just in case I'm wrong, I still manage to say, "Um, it was a fluke."

→But knowing that the normal tiling would be to appear at least somewhat interested, I take a deep breath and smile and nod as though I'd like nothing more. And when he hands me the answer key, I just go through the motions, saying, "Oh, look at that, I got the wrong date." And, "Of course! How could I not know that? Duh! "

→Uh, not really, I think, eager to be out of there as soon as I can, and not just so I can get to the lunch table and see Damen, but in case his fantasy decides to pick up where I forced it to leave off.

→"Only two wrong. Very good!" He smiles, brushing his fingers against the stain on his shirt, wondering if he'll ever see her again. "Would you like to see the correct answers?"

→I stand there, frozen, unable to breathe, struggling to block out the thoughts in his head by focusing on the tip of his pen. Watching as he leaves a trail of tiny red dots that turn into checkmarks at numbers seventeen and twenty-five —just as I'd planned.