Rebuilding Sabrina, part 7

Sabrina took a few long, deep breaths, like a diver preparing for a long stay underwater. She gave me a brave smile, and closed her eyes.
“OK, now let’s go back to the New Library,” I said.
Sabrina gave the smallest of nods and was silent for a moment.
“I am in the library,” she finally said.
“Fine. I want you to describe the place in detail, as you extend your quantum powers back in time.”
I felt silly, but she nodded.
“I’m in a square room,” she said slowly, frowning, “with four reading tables. There’s thick carpeting on the floor, electric blue, and the walls are a light beige. I am revising chemistry. I have professor Donovan’s notes in front of me, and I am looking for the ReDox formulae on Tipler’s handbook. The blinds are closed, and I can’t see outside through the window.”
“Fine,” I said.
“The door opens, the blue handle turns. Mike Forlani and his friends come in.”

“Describe him.”
A brief grimace of distaste curled her lips.
“Jeans, a polo shirt. A peach-colored polo shirt. Short brown hair, and he’s wearing a big watch on his wrist.”
I checked my watch. “Go on.”
“He leans towards me. Places both his hands on the table, over my notes. He stares me in the face. I can smell his after shave.”
“What does he say?”
Her frown deepened. “He says, Hi, blondie.” Again her voice shook just like before. “His friends behind him are laughing.”
I let her go on at her pace.
“He leans on the table, bends down to stare in my face. Is it true what I heard?, he says. His mates keep snickering. What have you heard?, I ask. His eyes are in mine, he’s grinning evilly. I have heard you are a proper little slut, he says. Is it true you are willing to fuck anything that moves?, he asks.”
I placed a hand gently on her shoulder. “Now do what I say,” I said. She nodded.
“He leans close to you,” I said, “and he says I have heard you are a proper little slut. Is it true you are willing to fuck anything that moves?”
She tensed, stiffened.
“You stand, slowly.”
She was silent. I squeezed her shoulder. “Go on, do it.”
“I stand, slowly.”
“Your eyes in his you lean slowly towards him, so that your face is about two inches from his.”
I  squeezed her shoulder again.
“I stand and I lean two inches from his face, my eyes in his.”
“You say, What if I am?”
She caught her breath. “I can’t.”
“Of course you can. Say it. What if I am?”
She hesitated. Then, “What if I am, I say.”
“You blow a cloud of smoke in his face.”
“I don’t smoke.”
I squeezed. “Of course you do.”
Her lips pressed, she took a deep breath. “I say, What if I am?, and I blow a lungful of smoke in his face.”
She put her lips together and blew faintly, pretending to exhale smoke.

“Say, Would you like to join the queue?”
She hesitated for the space of a breath. “Would you like to join the queue?”
“Nastier.”
Her pale lips curled into a smirk. “Would you like to join the queue?”
“He is taken aback. This is not what he was expecting. He coughs, and takes a step back. You give him a dirty smile.”
“A dirty smile,” she said.
“You say, I doubt you could keep it up long enough, though.”
This time her smirk came quicker, more naturally. “I doubt, I say, you could keep it up long enough, though.”
“Mike blushes. His friends are laughing. One of them calls, Hell, Mike, the girl knows you!”
Sabrina chuckled.
“You say, I fucked a pair of his former girlfriends.”
There was a light blush on her paper-like cheeks. “I fucked a pair of his former girlfriends. That’s how I know.”
This was going better than expected.
“You show him your thumb, measuring it.”
Sabrina laughed. “I show him how long is his dick. Everybody laughs.”
“Mike stammers, turns. His friends are laughing. You give him another dirty look. Poor little baby, you say.”
“Poor little spoiled baby,” she grinned.
“And you walk out on them.”
“I walk out.”
“Back straight, shoulders back, hips swaying,like you own the fucking place.”
She straightened where she was sitting. "I own the fucking place."
I gently pulled away the rubber band holding her hair, and let the bleached blond curls fall around her face.
“And this is session one, over.”
She took a deep breath, and turned to me, squinting in the dusk. “This was fun,” she said with a bright smile.
I opened my cigarette box and took a cigarette out. I leaned into the flame of a candle, and brought it to life.
When I straightened back, Sabrina was staring at me, a strange expression on her face.
“Well?” she said.
“Well what?”
She sighed. She stretched a hand, took the box from my hand and pulled out a cigarette. “Once you were not so mean with your cigarettes,” she said. She picked up a candle and lit up. She took a deep drag, and closed her eyes.
This was unexpected.
She gave a brief cough, and pumped the cigarette again.
“Now we just have to see if it will work,” she said.
“Maybe it will take some time.”
She nodded, taking another drag. "Maybe we can turn the candles out," she said. Then her eyes widened. “Holy shit!” she breathed, exhaling a long plume of smoke.
She relaxed back in the couch, giggling. She ran a hand through her hair.
“Oh, shit, this feels wonderful.”
She leaned closer to me and took another toke. “It's working! I never felt better,” she said. “The affirmation worked.” She gave a half hiccup. “Shit, it worked big time!”
I checked the watch. Fifty-two minutes.
Sabrina was beaming, her eyes two deep pools of black.
The 80 milligrams of MDA I had used to spike her orange juice were kicking in, giving her a massive high. Nothing better than a little positive reinforcement for the placebo effect to really work.