The Frog Prince

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The Frog Prince Page 13

by Tracy Lauren


  Madison

  We went to two motels, only to have Kethian shut them down because they lacked the amenities he deemed necessary for me to live independently. He wasn’t wrong either. I need some sort of a kitchen, even something bare bones. And proximity to a laundry mat would be ideal. But I was so eager to settle somewhere, I would have ended up in the very first place we walked into. Inwardly, I chide myself for my naïvety and vow to do better.

  That’s when Kethian notices a place with the words “extended stay” on the beat-up parking lot sign. Some petty part of me feels oddly disgruntled at the fact that it’s my alien companion who ends up finding exactly what I need. I should be the one navigating Earth like I belong here. Not Kethian.

  A bell on the door jingles when we step into the slim excuse for a lobby. It’s really just a small counter hiding a beat-up recliner and a TV on the other side. Though I’m surprised by the fact that it’s the biggest flat screen TV I’ve ever seen. Maybe this place is fancier than it looks? I remember when flat screens first came out. Mom never bought one, but Aunt Carol did—on Black Friday one year. At Christmas all the grownups talked about how pricey it was and the one here in the motel lobby is way bigger.

  An older woman, a bit heavyset, pushes herself up from the recliner when she hears us enter. “You need a room?” she asks, pausing her program. It’s not exactly a greeting.

  “Um, yes. I’m looking for one. I need something I can stay in for a few months.”

  “Price is $59 a night. Room’s got a kitchen. You’ll probably find a few pans and plates in the cupboards but you’ll need your own towels and we don’t do turn down service for long-term occupants.”

  “Is there a facility to launder her attire?” Kethian asks from under his hood.

  “Laundry mat is in the shopping center next door,” the lady says, unabashedly trying to get a peek at Kethian’s face.

  “I don’t have a credit card,” I tell her, knowing that was a deal breaker at the last place.

  “How do you plan to pay?” she asks, directing her attention to me once more, her expression suddenly stern.

  “Cash?”

  “If you pay cash within the first three days of the month I can offer the room to you for a grand. I’ve got no patience for late rent though—if you don’t have the money on day four you’re out, no matter what your sob story is.”

  “Only a thousand a month?” I ask excitedly.

  “It seems high,” Kethian whispers to me. I give him a pleading look and he reluctantly turns back to the woman. “I would like to see the room before we make an arrangement.”

  “If you’re looking for a long-term place you’re going to be hard pressed to find another. There’s one of those fancy Extended Stay Americas over by the new mall, but you need to leave a credit card number at the desk.”

  I cast my gaze to Kethian. “It’s got a kitchen and there’s a place to do my laundry right next door.”

  “Room’s got a TV and basic cable too,” the lady adds.

  I raise my brows at Kethian. Doesn’t get much better than that.

  “Fine. You have a deal,” Kethian concedes.

  “Okay, let me have you fill out some paperwork and I’ll get your key.” The woman sounds uninterested, oblivious to the meaning this place holds to me. I escaped space and made my way back to Earth all so I could end up here in her lobby. But she clearly just wants to get back to her recliner. She slides a clipboard over to me and I worry about what type of information I’ll need to provide.

  Sure enough, there are things like “cell phone number” and “last residence” on there. I scratch nervously at the paper. “Um, I don’t have a phone yet…”

  “Just fill in whatever, honey, I’m not going to read it. All I care about is the rent.”

  “Oh! Okay!” I dig in my bag and covertly count out ten hundred-dollar bills before I set them on the counter.

  “Cops aren’t going to come here looking for you, are they?”

  “What? No!” For a moment fear washes over me and I think she’s referring to the fact that I’m a missing person.

  “She is not involved in crime,” Kethian tells her. “She is simply starting her life over new.”

  The lady nods slowly, appraising us. But she seems to take the information as something plausible, because she doesn’t press for more reasons.

  “I had a boyfriend I had to get away from long time ago. Starting fresh ain’t easy. Just make sure you’re quiet after 10:00pm. Throw any parties and I’ll call the cops.”

  “You won’t need to worry about that,” I assure her.

  She passes me the key. “Room 3A.”

  Just as we’re about to back out of the tiny lobby Kethian stops in his tracks. “What is that on your shirt?” he asks the woman. My face flushes in embarrassment and I pray he isn’t rudely pointing out a barbeque sauce stain or something.

  “Oh, this?” She tugs at the shirt to show him the fading picture. A wide smile crosses her face, the first one I’ve seen since we came in. “I took my granddaughter to this concert almost ten years ago! Best damn performance I’ve ever seen, and that’s coming from a woman who saw The Animals play back in ’69! Thought it was going to be all teeny boppers, but this kid knew how to put on a show! Pyrotechnics, the whole nine yards!”

  I cringe as the faded picture takes shape. I should have noticed that side swept blond hair from a mile away, but instead it was Kethian who noticed the name in bold pink lettering. I feel myself blushing as Kethian’s god-awful smirk seems to take over the whole of his being.

  “This boy is Justin Bieber?” he asks, his gaze shooting from me to the woman, looking for confirmation.

  “Yup, Bieber back in his prime,” the woman supplies, still looking proudly down at her tee-shirt.

  “He’s no more than a child.”

  “He was probably about…15 here? My granddaughter was 13 and oh boy was she in love with him. Just about every little girl was at the time. I’m sure you remember.” She nods to me. “You look to be about the same age as my Emily.”

  I try to nod politely, but I’m so embarrassed my hands are practically shaking.

  “And where is this boy now?” Kethian asks.

  “Oh he’s still around. Not so cute anymore, mind you.”

  “What?” I gasp, unable to control my response. I should be slinking away with my tail between my legs, but instead I press closer to the counter. “What do you mean?”

  “Boy’s got worse skin than a teenager. He did get married though, so that must mean he’s doing something right.”

  “Married? To who?”

  “Some Baldwin girl. I don’t know which Baldwin she belongs to. Here, let me see…” The woman pulls a large black screen from her pocket and it takes me a moment to realize it’s a cell phone. “Let me Google… Okay, here we go. Hailey Baldwin. They’re on the TMZ all the time.”

  The woman turns her cell phone toward us and there’s a picture of my Justin. The Justin whose poster I practiced kissing on. The Justin whose CDs I listened to until they practically disintegrated. The Justin who I imagined rescuing me a thousand times from outer space. I look at the picture of his twentysomething-year-old self and…it just isn’t the same. The spark is gone. He’s lanky, for one, with sloppy facial hair and bad skin. And his normally coiffed hair is straight up gross. I look up and catch Kethian’s eyes. He’s smirking at me. I hurry to pass the phone back to the woman at the desk.

  “Can you show me another image on that device?” he asks.

  “Sure, hun, what do you need?” she says, warming up to Kethian.

  “I’d like to see a frog.”

  The lady’s eyes go to the slim bit of skin exposed near Kethian’s chin and she chuckles a little at the request. “Yeah, I can show you a frog. I’ll show you my favorite frog as a matter of fact.” She types something into the touch screen. “There you go—-Kermit the Frog.”

  Kethian looks at the image and a moment later he’s laughi
ng. I, on the other hand, just want to crawl under a rock and stay there for the next nine years.

  Chapter 27

  Kethian

  When we open the door to Madison’s new room I am utterly aghast. I hate everything about it—from the dull and faded floral painting over the bed, to the strange paper peeling off the walls. I can’t help but imagine what her father would say, seeing her in a place like this. Hell, my brothers would never let me live it down if they knew I brought the princess of Tevera to such a horrendous slum.

  The “kitchen” is nothing more than a single cupboard, a dirty stove—even tinier than the one I have aboard my ship—and something called a microwave, balancing atop a refrigeration unit that does not even come to my hip.

  There is no separation between the poor excuse for a kitchen and the even poorer excuse for a sleeping area. And the first thing I notice here is the old and worn-out bedding—too thin to resemble the blankets one might find in the castles of Tevera and Atana. They’re certainly not fit for a princess. There’s also a beaten down dresser with a television balanced atop, and a bathroom that looks as overused as the bedding. When I find a bug, dead on its back, in the shower, Madison spends ten minutes talking me down before I agree to allow her to remain in this hell hole.

  “As soon as I get a job, I’ll get a bank account. Then I’ll go over to that Extended Stay place, but this is the best I can do for now!”

  “I’m not leaving you alone here! If you think I am then you’re dead wrong, Princess—”

  “Good. Stay until I can find something nicer,” she tells me, peeking through the blinds to look at the parking lot lying just beyond her window. “I don’t exactly feel safe here anyway.”

  “This place is not safe?” I ask, joining her at the window to assess for signs of danger. Security is my strong point, guarding Madison is certainly something I can do during my time here.

  “I’m sure it’s fine,” she mutters, but offers nothing further.

  My mind is reeling even worse than it was yesterday. “I don’t get it, Madison. Why would you want to be in this awful place, with its peeling, paper walls?” I stop short from commenting on the world outside this room—which I find equally abhorrent.

  “You know exactly why I need to start here, Keth, I’m not going to explain it again. You swear like this is my dream house.”

  I grumble to myself, still eyeing the unimpressive world outside Madison’s grime-covered window. But I soften at my princess’s words and cast a glance over my shoulder to appraise her. She is hesitantly venturing to take a seat on the bed, as dubious about its cleanliness as I am.

  “My brothers call me that, you know?”

  “What?”

  “Keth.”

  “That’s funny, I thought everyone called you ‘frog boy,’” she teases playfully. It’s the first smile I’ve seen on her face since we entered this room. The sight makes all the tension ease from me.

  “Bite your tongue, Princess, I know all about frogs now. And Justin Bieber.”

  The smile drops from Madison’s face and her cheeks grow flush.

  “Would you truly prefer that boy over a man like me?”

  “Doesn’t matter who I prefer. I can’t have either,” she says glumly, focusing again on the bed. She gives a small bounce and lies back on it, frowning.

  I abandon the window and move to her side. “You can have anyone you want. You’re the crowned princess of Tevera.”

  She shifts her focus from the flat pillow she’s trying to reposition so she can look at my face. Madison suddenly looks far older than her 21 years. “Kethian, I am currently the princess of room 3A at the Hacienda Motel. Justin Bieber is a married pop star and you are a green alien that needs to go back to outer space.”

  “Run away with me,” I offer, making my smile wide and adding a hint of a playfulness to my tone—just in case she hates the idea. Then I reach for my princess, wanting to pull her into my arms and kiss her so senseless that she agrees. But she swats at me, annoyed.

  “We should go to Walmart and buy bedding,” she says resolutely, rising to make her way to the corner of the room designated as the “kitchen.” She opens the cupboard and pulls out a small pot for the stove. Lifting the lid, she quickly drops the metal kitchenware with a gasp. I leap to my feet and notice more dead bugs like the one we found in the bathroom.

  My eyes meet Madison’s. Both of us are grimacing.

  “We’re going to need new pots and pans too. And bug spray. You know what, I’m just going to get a list going,” she tells me. And I run my hands through my hair, wondering how I let this beautiful princess talk me into such a mess.

  Chapter 28

  Madison

  The necessities were easy. We grabbed stuff for the kitchen, toiletries, and a big stack of towels, all before moving on to the bedding. The quality wasn’t exactly what I’ve grown used to while living at the castle, but that seemed to matter more to Kethian than it did to me. All I care about is the fact that it’s clean. We also got a fresh shower curtain and a ton of cleaning supplies. Then, we started browsing.

  To Kethian, everything was a novelty. To me it was like…walking through a museum. There were all these things I remembered, but few I still connected with. Other than the seven boxes of cereal I shoved into my overflowing cart, of course. Beyond that, I couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow I was as much of a tourist as Kethian.

  It was in the magazine section that things really started to sink in. I grabbed at a Tiger Beat before I knew what I was thinking, only to recoil at the sight of all the kids on the cover. I quickly set that one back before Kethian could tease me over it and opted for a Cosmopolitan. Still…so many of the people inside were strangers to me.

  “Ayo, Madison!” Kethian calls from not far away.

  I shove my magazine back into its slot. “Yeah?”

  His smile is bright when I join him at the end cap. At least one of us looks happy, I think morosely.

  “I found some decoration for your new room,” he says proudly, gesturing to a rack of posters. Sure enough, he has the samples opened up to an old image of Justin Bieber.

  I deadpan. “Very funny. Come on, I’m done shopping.”

  I’m at a loss once again when the teenage cashier asks us how many bags we want at check out. “I don’t know. How many do we need?” My tone must be a little surly because Kethian steps in and takes over the transaction for me.

  “Hey, awesome face paint,” the cashier tells him. “You guys into cosplay or something?”

  Keth just nods and pays the kid. Seems like we’re both ready to leave. Once out in the parking lot, I can feel Kethian’s eyes on me.

  “Something’s bothering you,” he notices.

  I let out a sigh, not wanting to acknowledge the feeling aloud. “This is just…weirder than I thought it’d be.”

  I try to move on from that negative line of thinking, putting my focus on my purchases. And it’s not hard…already I struggle to awkwardly shift the bags in my arms. Kethian is carrying all the heavy stuff, I just have the bedding and new pillows. It doesn’t weigh much, of course, but it is ungainly.

  “Once we clean your room and get something to eat, you’ll feel better about things,” he offers, but his tone is far from convincing. After that, the walk back to the motel is fairly short, yet still, my fingers are red and numb by the time I dump my bags on the floor.

  I put the food on the “kitchen counter” and Kethian works on the bathroom, hanging up the new shower curtain. We come together again to start stripping the bed.

  “You’ve been quiet,” he points out.

  “You too.”

  He makes a small grunt, acknowledging the truth to my words. “Are you hungry?”

  I shrug, tucking the last corner of the sheet into place and moving on to the next task. Kethian plucks a pillow slip out of my hand when he sees me struggling to stuff it, so I shake out the comforter instead. Before the bed’s even done being made, I collapse
on top of it. Keth finishes with the pillows before dropping down beside me.

  “What sort of garbage food are you in the mood for tonight?”

  “Junk food,” I correct.

  “Same thing.”

  I snort at that, letting my mind travel to dinner. But I can’t seem to muster the energy to go back out into the world. “Let’s stay in for a little longer,” I say after a while. I nearly suggest ordering a pizza, but then I realize don’t know if I need to give a credit card over the phone. To be honest, I’m just not in the mood to feel inept on my own world again today. So I remain quiet and reach for Kethian’s hand instead.

  He turns toward me on the bed and his green hand plays with my human-colored one. It’s comforting after a day of feeling like everything’s somehow off and I lean in closer, trailing my fingers up his arm.

  The hoodie I made for him has been tossed aside and I find that I’m grateful for it. My distaste for the immature-looking garment has steadily been growing during our time on Earth. Instead I’m coming to realize how much I miss the sleeveless and humble guardsman uniform Kethian wore back on his ship. But for now, Kethian is shirtless and his broad chest is bared for my perusal. I realize quite suddenly that, in this moment, I’m happier than I’ve been all day—just grazing my fingers across his alien skin.

  I scoot even closer, until Kethian and I are face to face on the bed. “Madison,” he starts. “I can’t help but feel like something is wro—” But I don’t want to hear it. I can’t stand the idea of examining my emotions right now. Nor do I want to accept the fact that so far, Earth doesn’t feel right. I wanted to come back more than anything. Yet here I am…and home just doesn’t feel like home anymore. I’m not Teveran and somehow it seems I’m not even an Earthling anymore.

  So before Kethian can finish, I press my lips to his, eagerly devouring the only thing in my crazy life that feels right. I think of the way we fooled around the other night and more than anything else, I’m ready for round two. If only I could lose myself in Kethian and the way he makes me feel.

 

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