BENCHED

by Abigail Graham

  "Relaxed?" I snap. "Konstantin, he wants me to date him. Be his woman. Whatever you want to call it."

  "Good! You should."

  "I can't!"

  "You must."

  I clench my fists and smack my thighs. "Konstantin, I can't. If Mother finds out…."

  "Mother won't find out."

  Exasperated, I run my fingers through my hair. I want to yank on it.

  "There are newspaper people following me around taking pictures of my butt all the time!"

  "I know. I've seen the fan pages."

  "Fan pages?"

  "Here, I'll send you a URL."

  I click on the website, and it pops up in another window. The biggest picture, filling my screen, is a zoom-lens photo of my buttocks in stretch pants, midstride. My face turns redder and redder as I scroll down.

  There is an entire website devoted to my ass.

  I move Konstantin's window to the side of the screen and buzz Dee.

  She answers in text.

  Dee: Can't video chat now, in class.

  I grit my teeth.

  Anastasia: Did you know there was a website about my ass?

  Dee: A website? Honey there's like a whole network of sites about you. Don't look at the one about your feet.

  "Konstantin, did you know there's a website about my feet?"

  He sighs. "You know, it's not like I go around actively looking at sexy pictures of my sister. For the record. Yes, I knew about it."

  "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "How exactly am I supposed to work that into a conversation, Ana? 'Wow, check out these pictures of your feet'?"

  "Why my feet?"

  "I don't know. I don't get the foot thing either."

  "How did they get so many?" I gasp, scrolling through the site. "I am never taking my shoes off again."

  "It's four in the morning," Konstantin yawns. "You know I love you, dear sister, but I have important carousing to attend to in the morning."

  I sigh and close the chat window I opened with Dee.

  My lip starts to tremble, and Konstantin's expression changes. He's one of the few people in the world who's seen me cry. I can't even cry to my own mother.

  "Ana? What's wrong?"

  I shake my head. "I can't, don't you understand? How can I fall for him if I can't keep him? Sooner or later I have to come home, and then Mother will make me marry Mortimer."

  Konstantin stiffens. "I'll challenge him to a duel."

  "Oh please."

  "I'd win."

  "No, you wouldn't. You'd fight to first blood and he'd make sure he cut your face. It's what he does. I can't bear that."

  "You can't bear marrying that walrus poker, either."

  "You don't understand."

  "I know, I know, I can sleep with anyone I want, meanwhile Mother would put you in a chastity belt if she could."

  "Don't give her any ideas."

  Konstantin laughs.

  I wave his mirth away. "He wants me to go out with him for one week."

  "An entire week?"

  "What? No, he means every night, I think. Date him. Like normal people do."

  "Do you want to?"

  "Yes," I say softly. I shift in my seat. "I told you before. I see all the other people happy with their paramours, and I just… I want that. With him. I think he may really care for me. And I want to have sex with him."

  Konstantin jams his fingers in his ears. "Gah! Spare me the details."

  I stick my tongue out at him. "Why? You never spare me yours. You never sleep with a girl without telling me her cup size and whether she likes to be on top or on bottom."

  "You're the chronicler of my deeds, fair sister. Just don't return the favor."

  "Jason has a huge cock."

  Konstantin yelps. "Enough! Please. I can't think of my sister doing that."

  I snicker, and it begins to grow into a laugh, but fades away slowly.

  "I don't know what to do, Konstantin. I want this, but I'm afraid. What if I fall for him?"

  "Then you fall for him. So what?"

  "I told you, I can't—"

  "What good is being queen if you can't do as you like? Marry some other man if Mother makes you, pop out an heir, and keep this Jason on the side."

  "Is that what you'd do?"

  He shrugs. "Maybe. Fortunately, I'm the spare, not the heir. Mother insists I stay unmarried, and tells me to pull out. Frequently."

  "Eww."

  "I know, right?" He shudders. "She went into detail on how I should handle it."

  "Oh God. Stop."

  He sighs. "I really must rest, Ana. Do what your heart desires. I have your back. Also tell this Jason if he hurts you, I'll feed his heart to an eel."

  I laugh, sadly. "Go get your sleep, brother."

  He waves and signs off.

  I rest my chin on my hand and stare at nothing, hoping for an answer. What do I do?

  Jason

  When I get back to the house, the Thunder Brothers are already there and have started on the meal they affectionately refer to as Elevenses. There's enough meat on the counter to feed ten people, and that's besides all the peanut-butter-infused oatmeal. I find their eating habits frightening and confusing.

  I stick to protein powder and milk. A lot of it. I don't think I could keep pork chops down now.

  "You're not eating, cousin," Aheahe notes.

  "No. I don't think I'll eat for a week. I just got mauled by a cougar."

  "What?" Akele says. "Dude, you're acting funny. What happened?"

  "I went to see Ana last night."

  "How did it go?"

  "I don't know yet. We find out on Saturday."

  "So what's the deal with this cougar thing?" Aheahe says. "You don't look mauled. I mean, you're not scratched up."

  Akele sighs, a deep rumble like a mountain farting. "You mean Grandolf."

  "Yeah. She shows up at the gym this morning dressed like she's on the set of Gym MILFs VI."

  "I found Gym MILFs V far superior," Aheahe interrupts.

  I glare at him. "Anyway, she shows up half-naked and follows me around the whole time. She wanted to spot me on the bench."

  "I'd like to spot her bench," Aheahe says.

  "Seriously?" Akele grunts. "That's the best you can do?"

  "Look, man, I'm hungry. Ham first, innuendo later."

  "Whatever," I shout. "She followed me into the goddamn locker room."

  "Are you serious?" Aheahe says.

  "She walks right up to me, starts feeling me up, and offers to blow me. Like right there in the locker room."

  "Shut. Up," Aheahe says.

  "I'm in total shock," Akele says with utter, serene calm. "Seriously."

  "So did she, like, hint at this?" Aheahe says. "I just want to be clear. Did she wander in there sucking on a corn dog and sticking a popsicle down her bra, or did she just, like, say it?"

  "She said it. She threw herself at me. It was pathetic."

  "Did she say anything about anal?"

  I give him a look.

  "I hate you," he says. "In a brotherly way."

  "You wouldn't be laughing if it happened to you."

  "Yes I would," Aheahe says. "Wait, no, I wouldn't be laughing. I'd be—"

  "Okay, enough," Akele says. "Can't you see this is serious? Our captain has given his heart to another. He has eyes only for her."

  "Well, I mean if they're not officially dating and Grandolf just wants, like, a one-time thing, that technically—"

  "Bro," Akele says.

  "Okay, okay, fine."

  "I need another shower," I mumble. "I feel dirty."

  "It only shows me the depth of your conviction that you resisted this siren," Akele says with a slow, sage nod. "You hold the Princess Anastasia in such high esteem in your heart that her temptress ways were not enough to sway you from your course. Be proud."

  He claps me on the shoulder.

  "So what's the deal with the princess?" Aheahe asks.

 
"I talked to her. The ball is in her court. If she comes to the game on Saturday, I have a chance."

  "So we're not doing the thing?"

  "No, we're not doing the thing."

  "I wanted to do the thing."

  "Bro," Akele says.

  "Tomorrow, Friday, Saturday. The game start at three in the afternoon. That's the moment of truth."

  "It's going to be a hard-fought contest," Akele says. "We will need all our skill and spirit."

  "If she's not there, I don't think I care anymore," I say softly.

  "You saw the two paths," Akele says.

  "What?" Aheahe says.

  "Be quiet," Akele tells him, gently. "Jason, you have received a vision."

  "Uh, yeah, I guess."

  "Your true self has spoken to you. You can't deny the truth of your soul."

  "The truth of my soul isn't going to pay my bills. I need my scholarship, my career, my…."

  The words die in my throat.

  I know what I need.

  "We have undertaken a holy quest," Aheahe says gravely.

  "Right, there you go," Akele agrees. "Nothing to do now but wait."

  "The wait is the hardest part."

  They both nod.

  "This is truth,” they both say.

  I have most of that day off. I know better than to text Anastasia again. I let her be. It's her choice, and I have to prepare myself. I've been studying her history and family, learning about her island. It took me some work, but I tracked down a few dusty books about the place in the library.

  It's there I go, hoping maybe she'll seek me out early. I take the study nook we shared with a stack of books about Jyvaslka. Weird name for a country. It's about five hundred miles off the coast of Scandinavia, a volcanic rock about the size and roughly the shape of South Jersey. The now-dormant volcano provides geothermal power to the main and only town, Vrieshal, named for the castle that dominates it, perched on the slopes of the volcano.

  Anastasia is the heir to the throne. Her mother became queen at the age of twenty-seven, when Ana's grandparents were lost at sea. Ana's great-grandpa fought in World War II.

  The island was poor until the sixties, when oil was found in its territorial waters. The family's main source of income was oil until very recently. Under her mother the island has become a technology haven and the town is turning into a city.

  The only problem is getting there. It's rocky on three sides, with a narrow strip of stony, cold beach to the west. The ocean currents are difficult, and Ana's ancestors were basically Vikings who got stuck there when they couldn't get back to the mainland by longship and had to scratch out a living on fish and sea mammals.

  They're a tough people. The Germans bombed them in World War II and threatened to invade during the Great War.

  By evening I'm lying on the couch in the study nook, falling asleep reading about a country I'll probably never see. I've worked my way backward to the Jyvaslkaic Saga, a translated poem of ponderous intensity. It's all dead kings and their exploits.

  Fish stories, I guess you could say.

  The last book is mostly pictures. It's more like a tour guide than anything.

  Ana's mom was hot when she was younger, though Ana is prettier by far. The castle looks interesting, and the interior of the island looks pastoral. Lots of greenery. Also sheep.

  I'm obsessing. I'll never set foot on this place.

  What do you think they're going to do, Jason? Make you their king?

  No, not king. I'd be prince consort. Anastasia would be queen regnant, and her kid, male or female, would come after her.

  I sit up when that hits me. That must be a hell of a thing, being told from a young age all the things you have to do when your parents die. No wonder she's so… her.

  I drag myself back to the house. I should have been studying. I have a lot coming up. Thanks to Anastasia's help, I'm ahead of the math again. The way she described the process just made it click in my head, like magic.

  The brothers are in the front room, playing some car-racing game on the TV. I watch them for a while, remembering what it was like to have a brother.

  Friday is a blur. Practice takes up most of the day. I have to drop my assignments off and spend most of the first half of the day on the field before I'm let go. I couldn't have gone to Grandolf's class anyway, not after what happened. I'm going to have to ask to switch classes, maybe see about getting a new advisor. All I really need her for now is to sign my schedules, but even that would be awkward.

  Ugh, that woman has to sign off before I can graduate. What the hell have I done to myself?

  As I walk through campus on Friday afternoon, I feel a weird kind of pride. Sleeping with her didn't even cross my mind.

  When I get back to the house, the brothers clap me on both shoulders and march me to the living room. Pizza has been ordered, Izzy and Twitch and the rest of the offensive line are on their way, and it's time to hang out before we go get on the bus tomorrow morning.

  Ours is the strangest football team ever. Akele draws the short straw and chooses the movie, and they end up watching the first of those Hobbit movies. I've already seen it. Repeatedly.

  While they share pizza, soda, and snacks, I head out to the back porch and sit there, staring up at the stars. Somewhere Anastasia looks up at the same stars.

  Actually, about three blocks away. She's not on Mars, Jason. Calm down.

  When I see her vault the fence and stride into the backyard, I think I must be dreaming. She's dressed simply, in black leggings and a long, threadbare, gray sweatshirt. It takes me a moment to realize it's mine.

  "Hi," she says.

  "Hi. Are you coming tomorrow?"

  "I haven't decided yet. I want to talk."

  "Talk, I'm listening."

  She sighs. God, she's so beautiful. In the moonlight she looks like some kind of nymph, like she walked out of her glade and I'm the first man to lay eyes on her. If I was just seeing her for the first time now, I'd fall instantly in love.

  "I don't want to hurt you. I think if we… dated, you would fall for me."

  "I've already fallen for you."

  "I mean for real. I do not know what I'm doing, Jason. I have never done this before, felt this way before. No one has ever spoken to me like you have spoken to me, touched me like you have touched me. I have been royalty all my life, but only you have ever made me feel like a princess."

  "Then come to the game tomorrow."

  "I don't know if I can. I can't keep you."

  "What does it matter who you marry? Can't you change the law? What the hell good does it do you to be a princess if you can't do what you want?"

  "I have asked myself that question all my life," she says sadly.

  She walks closer, and I know I shouldn't stand. I stay on the stoop and wait for her. She draws something out of her pocket and holds it out. A strip of cloth.

  "I made this for you. I embroidered it."

  I take it gently, my fingers brushing hers. I hold the fabric out and let it unfold, moving lightly in the breeze. Embroidered in the center is a knight in blue armor, against the yellow of the cloth itself.

  "What is this? It's very, uh, nice. You did a great job."

  "It's a favor," she says, then turns.

  She climbs up over the fence and disappears.

  "Okay," I ask no one in particular, "what the hell is a favor?"

  I walk back into the house, still holding the gift and staring at it.

  Akele looks up and sees me, then mutes the television.

  "Why don't they just throw the ring in the ocean?" Izzy says.

  "Not now," Akele booms, rising. "Do you see what he has?"

  I look at it. "What do I have? She said it was a favor."

  The others all look at me, then at Akele. He walks around the couches and stands in front of me, gazing reverently at the piece of cloth I hold spread between my hands.

  "When knights of old would enter the lists in deadly contest, they wou
ld ask their ladies for a favor to wear into battle as a token of their esteem, and for good luck. Tomorrow we ride into battle, and our captain has been granted a favor. This is an auspicious sign for our victory."

  The others continue to stare at him.

  "Dude, are you high?" Izzy asks.

  The ride is too damn long. We leave at six in the morning to arrive in time and get suited up before the game. Before I put on my pads, I tightly tie the cloth Anastasia embroidered around my arm, to make sure she can see it. I don't know if she's here or not. I didn't dare ask. I haven't even talked to Dee, who will almost certainly be with her.

  If she's here.

  I've never been so nervous in my life. After much fanfare as the Honey Badgers emerge onto their home field, my team runs out to boos and jeers. I let them bounce off my helmet like rain.

  "The hour is at hand," Akele booms behind me.

  As we run out, I sweep the bleachers with my eyes, looking hard for Anastasia. She won't be easy to spot. Most likely she'll have her hood up and sunglasses on, to hide her uniquely recognizable eyes.

  I think it'll be hard to spot her, but it isn't. One sweep of the bleachers and there she is. She's taken up a spot up near the announcer's box, and as she sees me she throws her hood back and sits up. The wind catchers her golden hair like a flag flapping in the breeze. She has it in a loose braid, and thick strands of it crowd around her face, as if her own hair can't resist the chance to touch her.

  "She's here," Akele says. He sounds hopeful.

  As I am not technically the captain, the coin toss does not fall to me. Izzy calls it, and observes the coin toss. He called it, and we have our choice. Coach already went over this, and Izzy announces we'll start by receiving the kickoff.

  I shake my shoulders under my pads. They feel heavier today, but it's a weight I bear more easily. They could be gleaming steel, enameled white. With Anastasia watching, I feel like I could move the moon. I can do anything.

  Then it starts to rain.

  Chapter Nine

  Anastasia

  I shift uncomfortably in my seat. My stomach is quivering, my nerves as tight as a violin string that's out of tune. Amid all these people, I wonder if Jason will even see me.