Today Will Be Different

Sweat dripped from my forehead as I pushed myself to pedal harder. My legs hurt and once again I asked myself why I always came to school by bike when the dark gray old Daisy was parked in the garage just waiting for me to ride her into the sunshine.

But no, of course Sarina absolutely had to do something for her physical fitness.

Next to me on the street, a red convertible overtook me, the driver gave me a malicious grin, stepped on the gas, and left me coughing in a cloud of dust.

Such a show-off !

I gritted my teeth and finally turned onto my street.

Sudden silence surrounded me and I could only faintly hear the distant engines of the cars on the main street.

I sighed with relief.

To my left and right were now the richer people's properties.

Well-kept front gardens teeming with finely trimmed hedges, stone statues, rose bushes and symmetrically arranged flower beds. I never really considered myself rich. Why? You only get jealous anyway and once it was discovered that I was living in a villa with my parents, the fake friend requests with suggestions to throw a party would just pile up.

And I could do without the attention.

At number 23 I slowed down a little and called out, "Day Mr. Jenks!"

Mr. Jenks was a statue.

Yes, you heard that right. When I was thirteen, I named him that name because it always reminded me of my elementary school gym teacher. The muscular build, the waves in the hair, the straight nose, the pronounced cheekbones. . .

Except he never came to class with a cloth that barely covered his abdomen.

I had to hold back a laugh at the thought.

As I drove on, grinning, I only noticed the black cat following me out of the corner of my eye.

A gentle wind blew into my face and cooled my overheated skin a little. I took my hands off the handlebars and spread my arms like wings, put my head back, closed my eyes and for a moment gave myself over to the feeling of freedom.

Still freehand, I guided my bike around the left-hand bend.

Without taking my eyes off the road, I reached back with my right hand and fumbled for my keys. With the other I held on to the handlebars again.

I fished it out of my pocket just in time to put my hand back on the handlebars and apply the brake. Otherwise I would have crashed at full speed into the wrought iron gate that marked the property's grounds.

Contrary to the whining of neighbors, our garden didn't look like it was being prepared for a jury from the gardening competition to show up at any moment to evaluate the millimeter-perfect lawn clippings and the pale pink blossoms on the apple tree.

It looked more like a mix of jungle and oasis.

From fragrant hollyhocks to plump raspberry bushes to yellow forsythia, you could actually find everything in our sanctuary.

Even the fountain that sparkled between the tall cherry trees seemed to belong here.

My mother loved gardening.

She could sit in her beds and pull weeds for hours without getting bored.

There was no place where you could say Mum had put less heart and soul into it.

I unlocked the gate and it opened with a squeak.

I groaned internally.

It really can't get any louder, can it?

I could already hear the voice of Mrs. Wagner - our neighbor - who always found fault with everything. She was the typical type of person who, as soon as it was a minute after 10 p.m. and you heard a peep, immediately called the police for disturbing the peace.

The same, of course, also applied to the afternoon rest.

I decided to tell my father that he should oil the gate again.

Exhausted, I got off the bike. I didn't notice the black cat that snaked its way through the bars of the gate.

As the large front door closed behind me, I was immediately enveloped in coolness. I leaned against her and closed my eyes.

First, showering, eating ice cream and then lying on the terrace in the sun with a book , I completed my plan for the first afternoon of the holiday. "I'm here!" I shouted, kicking my shoes off.

No Answer.

I frowned and continued into the entrance hall. There was no one here either. Normally my parents were already there at this time.

I shrugged and went into the kitchen. There I slammed my certificate on the table - all A's - and grabbed a glass of water. I drank it greedily.

Then I made my way to my room.

Upstairs I stuffed my bag into a corner and ran into the bathroom that adjoined my room. I took off my clothes and got into the shower.

I gratefully accepted the cold water.

I stood there for a few minutes, too lazy to move. When I finished showering, I ran back to my room wrapped in a towel.

I chose comfortable shorts and a tank top. Suddenly I heard a squeak from below and froze. A burglar?

Oh no, oh no, oh no.

Why does this always have to happen to me?

I put on my socks and crept towards the stairs. I have always been a master at being quiet.

I was slowly approaching the last step.

I heard a dull bang and a hiss.

A cat?

It seemed to come from the living room. I detoured to the kitchen and grabbed an iron skillet from the counter. Then I ran further into the living room.

Oh God, what am I doing here?

I feel like Rapunzel with her frying pan. All that's missing is the chameleon .

My heart was pounding as I quietly approached the living room. I peeked around the corner and almost laughed out loud, which ended in a whimper. The moment I looked around the corner, almost everything was normal. The living room looked the same as usual, except for the black cat standing in the middle of the room between the couch and the side table, and one of the windows was open.

But two seconds later the scene changed. The cat grew.

I would have had no problem caring for a huge cat, but instead of an oversized giant cat standing there, there was now a human sitting there.

A man to be precise.

A big man.

I knew I had no chance against him. I looked doubtfully at the frying pan in my hand. From the looks of the guy, the only thing that would get damaged if I attacked him with it was the pan. He was dressed in black.

Black sweater (who wears a sweater in the summer?), black pants, black shoes. I assumed that he was wearing black socks and black underpants himself. He had tanned skin and a build like a closet, plus black (surprise) hair that stuck wildly off his head.

The man got to his feet and brushed the missing dust from his pants. Then he spotted me with the pan in my hand.

He smiled and laugh lines appeared around his eyes, showing that he liked to laugh despite his bodyguard appearance. If his eyes had been black too, I wouldn't have been surprised.

But the irises were a strange blue. Not ice blue that can stare anyone into the ground and make you wish you were never born. No, his eyes radiated tremendous power and wisdom, even though I only thought he was in his early thirties.

I stumbled back a step, my eyes wide open. "Who are you?" I asked with a shaky voice.

I tried to clear my throat without making a sound, but couldn't and made the situation a bit embarrassing.

Really, embarrassing? I just saw one hell of a cute cat turn into one hell of a wannabe bodyguard! And all I can think of is that the situation is embarrassing ?

"Hello, I'm Mr. Collins, but feel free to call me Tyler." He said in a deep voice and held out his hand to me.

I just stared at him idiotically (with my mouth open, by the way) and ignored the hand.

He lowered them again and sat on our sofa. “You have a nice place here.” He said cheerfully and grinned.

I approached slowly, all too aware of the frying pan in my hand.

As if reading my mind, the Tyler closet said, "I'd rather not." and pointed his chin at the pan.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, clinging to my only object of defense. Tyler raised an eyebrow.

“Didn’t your parents tell you that?”

Stupid question. No of course not! Maybe I look like that?!

"No." I said slowly, trying to control my anger.

Suddenly I heard the door in the entrance hall being unlocked.

"Sarina?" my mother shouted.

"In the living room, Mom." I called back, not taking my eyes off Tyler, who was busy studying the fabric structure of our sofa cushion.

"Oh, all A's again, Sarina?" I heard her now in the kitchen. Apparently she had found my certificate.

"Mum, please come here immediately!" I shouted a little louder now because my patience was threatening to break.

"That's okay. What's so important?" my mother said laughing and came around the corner.

Her laughter stopped immediately when she saw Tyler (who, by the way, was running his finger across the side table and muttering something about flowers). "Hello, Celine." he said.

I turned to Mum, who looked like she had seen a ghost, and said, "I think you need to explain something to me."