I carefully unwrap the burger and lift it from the paper.
"How am I supposed to eat all this?"
"Don't try that with me, Princess. I know how much you can pack away."
"I was hungover," I offer in defense.
I bite into the burger, and its flavors swarm my mouth. My eyes unfocus and I sit back a little bit, chewing it slowly before I swallow.
"She's having a burgergasm," Jason snickers.
I elbow him and then attack the burger, stopping only to eat French fries two and three at a time, and sip the milkshake. It seems strange to me to eat ice cream with dinner, but it somehow enhances the flavors.
By the time I finish, the fries are only half-eaten and I am absolutely stuffed. Jason has finished one giant double burger and is halfway through another. Akele and Aheahe piled their trays with so much food, it would take half an hour to list it all.
I clean my fingers with a napkin. Jason plucks a fry from my tray and pokes it toward my mouth. I eye him angrily and nip it out of his fingers with my teeth.
We spend the rest of the meal feeding each other French fries. This seems to greatly amuse his friends, even as he scowls at them for their smiles and quiet laughs.
I like this.
I finally reject a French fry, pushing his hand away to lean on his shoulder. I want a nap now.
When we return to the car, I lean on him and close my eyes. After a meal like that in the afternoon, a few hours of sleep would be like bliss, especially if I can stay with him.
I open my eyes and discover we are not back at the house, but at a grocery store. I pull my hood up and stick on my sunglasses and stay close to Jason as we take a cart and push it to the snack aisle, and begin filling it with all sorts of sodas and bags of snack foods, then take a trip up the dairy aisle.
Jason refuses to let me carry a single bag, but he cannot stop me busying myself with putting the food away as the three boys carry it back into the house. I open all the cupboards and put like with like as best I can.
He leads me to the living room after the last bag is carried in.
"We had a real debate over this," Jason says. "Whether to show them to you in original order, or chronological order."
"Original is best," Aheahe says.
"It's not the director's intent," Akele says.
Jason gives them the eye. "We can't spoil the OT for her. Come on. We're watching them in original order."
"Watching what?"
The doorbell rings, and I sit up nervously. When Akele opens it, three more football players are waiting outside. I recognize them even without their uniforms. I glance at Jason nervously.
"They're not going to tell anyone you're here."
By the time all the guests have arrived, the couches are full and there are people sitting on the floor. I look from person to person, fidgeting. Several girls have joined us as well, along with the football players.
Dee is one of the last to show up. She sits at foot of the couch on the floor.
Now I understand all the snack food. Akele and Aheahe distribute it, passing around huge bowls filled with fried potato chips, pretzels, corn chips, twisted orange… things, and bowls of dip, both warm and cold.
Jason plucks one of the puffy orange snacks out of the bowl and offers it to me.
"What is it?"
"Eat it."
I eye him warily, open my mouth, and take it from his hand with my teeth.
It tastes… cheesy.
"It's called a cheese curl, Princess. Welcome to America."
The giant brothers pull down the blinds, darkening the room. Then they turn on their Blu-ray player.
The trumpet fanfare blasts through the living room so loud, I jump in my seat and let out a little squeak.
Text blasts across the screen.
STAR WARS, it reads.
I crane forward to read the crawling words. Jason rests his hand on my back and says nothing. A spaceship appears on the screen, and I jump back from the noise. My mouth falls open a little and I lean back against him, watching, rapt.
When I whisper questions to Jason, he softly says, "Just watch," and sticks another cheese curl in my mouth. I pluck chips from the bowl in front of me and offer them to him in return, amused when nips at my fingers.
I've never watched anything like this. I feel carried away. Only Jason is holding me down, with his arm resting lazily around my waist. My head pillows naturally against his shoulder, and I pull my legs up and curl up on the couch.
The brothers turn on the lights when the first movie ends, and the guests mill around. I speak to a few of them, reserved at first.
They think I would be a good fit for the cheerleading squad, which seems like a peculiar thing to say. I remember seeing the cheerleaders at the games before. Those outfits would look silly on me.
Jason asks if I can skip joining but get one of the uniforms, and I glare at him but suppress a smile.
The second movie starts, and again I almost fall into a trance. Jason seems amused when I instinctively hide my eyes from some of the imagery on screen.
"We're going to have to stop with Return of the Jedi," he sighs. "If we watch all the way through, we'll be up until the wee hours of the morning."
By the time we watch the third film, I'm yawning and my head is resting on his lap. He leans back in the seat, slunk down on the couch, and idly strokes my hair with his hand. I hope he does not turn it orange.
Eventually he goes from stroking my head to resting over my hip, protectively touching my stomach. I shift closer to him, almost lying on top of him, and eat chips.
I sit up toward the end of the final film, staring, engrossed in the drama of Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader.
When it's over, Jason puts his arm around me.
"What did you think?"
"That was amazing," I gasp. "There is more?"
"Yeah, there's more," he says, a little warily. "We better get you home. It's after one o'clock."
"Yes," I agree sadly. "We should go."
As the others drift away, Jason takes my hand, and we walk together through the dark, passing under streetlamps. It feels like walking into another world. When we near my house, we must part ways. I stop on the corner and rise on my tiptoes to kiss him.
He waits, leaning against the lamp, until I climb the fence. I wave to him one last time, crouched on the porch roof, before I swing my legs back through the bedroom window and slip inside.
The paper crown has somehow remained on my head all this time. I carefully remove it and give it a place of honor atop my dresser, and smile at it like a fool for half a minute.
I roll into bed, still smiling, and manage to fall asleep without reminding myself that tomorrow is Wednesday and the week will be halfway over.
Almost.
Chapter Twelve
I dread going to Grandolf's morning class. I am exhausted even when I wake up and skip my morning run to instead drag myself to class half-dressed, still wearing pajama bottoms.
Her course is the worst, because Jason is there and I can't speak to him, not in public. I am still nervous that he brought his team and their friends in on the secret. More than a dozen people now know what is happening between us. More people to let it slip to the wrong person.
Again, I sit far away from the front. Jason sits in his usual seat, far back, and doesn't look at me. He sends a text instead.
Jason: You ok?
Anastasia: I am well.
Jason: Leave if you need to I'll catch you up on the notes.
Anastasia: She is not making me run away.
Jason: As you command, Princess.
Grandolf sends out the TAs again. This time my assignment has received an actual A. I was very careful with the grammar and spelling, and triple-checked everything. I stare at the paper in shock, turning it over to make sure there is no trick, verifying that I wasn't handed someone else's.
The professor hardly spares me a look, no more than she would any other stu
dent. Or so I think. The closer I look, the more I catch her glancing from the corner of her eye, glancing at me first when she turns the page of her lecture notes, glaring at me for a moment when she turns around.
I try to convince myself it's in my imagination, but that simply can't be true. I feel a sense of menace from her, like I'm sitting above a predator's cage, watching a panther pace back and forth, eyes always on me, hungry to know what I taste like.
Today I pay extra careful attention, typing notes so comprehensive they border on unnecessary. I catch myself typing "um" because she says it. I will not let her beat me, I swear. My average in the course is a B- again, and if I work hard on the final exam, I can still pull an A.
Besides, I have Jason to help me. I glance back at him a few times. Slouched in his seat, he looks as though he would rather be anywhere else.
When class finally ends, I fight the urge to go to him, as usual. When I walk by, it pains me not to look at him so much that I finally spare him a glance. He smirks when he sees me looking, and I will myself not to blush, and hurry on out to the hallway and away from the lecture hall.
My day goes as normal, and I grow anxious thinking what surprise Jason will spring on me tonight. When I climb down from my room and clamber over the fence, he is waiting by the corner. I sprint over to him and tuck up beside him.
"Grandolf failed me on my last set of review questions," he says with a deep, sad sigh.
I stop in my tracks. "What does that mean? Will it hurt your scholarship?"
He sighs again. "It could. I'm doing better on the math, but midterms are coming up and I'm not sure."
"We can take time to study."
He gives me a sad look. "Next week, huh? Let's have fun. Listen, I think we should ditch class on Friday."
My heart skips at the thought of willfully missing one of my classes. Jason sees the look on my face and laughs.
"Don't go so pale. There's something I'd like to show you and it closes for the year on Friday. We'll borrow the brothers' car and go for a nice road trip, huh? Sneak out of here in the morning."
I bite my lip and huff. "I do not know how I would get past my guards."
"Tell 'em you're sick." He shrugs. "You need to stay in your room. Then sneak out. Come on. You agreed to one week. What does it matter if you get caught at the end of it?"
"I would be sent home. I don't want to go home."
Jason puts his arm around me. "I can't believe they'd really do that to you. What if you told them you wanted to stay together with me? It's 2016, Ana. People don't arrange marriages anymore, no matter who they are."
"They do if they are royalty," I sigh. "Please, can we not speak of this? I don't want to think of how this must end. What are we going to do today?"
"I didn't have anything in mind. We can get the car if you want, go for a ride."
"You drive?"
"Yeah, I just can't afford my own car."
I nod. "We'll drive on Friday. Tonight let's walk. Perhaps we can find a restaurant."
After we are away from town, Jason has an idea.
"You know what quintessential part of the American experience you're missing? Chinese food."
I look at him and blink a few times. "What?"
"Come on."
He takes my hand, and we quicken our pace. When we reach the Great Wall Chinese Buffet, he leads me inside and buys our way in. Jason loads up my plate with a dozen foods I can't pronounce, and we take a table in the corner. I don't dare lower my hood. I am facing away from the door, though, so I feel comfortable taking off my sunglasses.
"Dig in," he says.
I hold up the peculiar sticks they gave me and look at Jason. He smiles and takes them from me, demonstrating how to use them. It still takes me five minutes to eat an actual bite of food. I'm so hungry, I grab the finger foods first, the spring rolls and won tons. It's all hot and greasy and feels a little heavy, but good.
Like everything about this country, it's a little overwhelming.
"Do you miss home?" he asks.
I want to say no, but instead I say, "I do miss my country. It is where I grew up. It is a part of who I am."
"Tell me about it."
I shrug. "The beaches are all pebbles. There is no sunbathing. Most of the island is all rocky coast, so sheer that few people can climb it. There is one safe harbor where the ships come and go, but the rest of the coastline is impassible."
"That sounds like a geography textbook, Princess. What's it like? I want to feel it."
I chew a slice of chicken thoughtfully.
"It is beautiful. It seems dreary until you come to know it. Half the days of the year it threatens rain, and the other half it does rain. The storms can be terrible, hail and lightning that splits the sky like the anger of God. The seas around the island rage and thunder, but it is glorious. When the storms come into the east side of the island, the waves slam into the rocks and cliffs and great pieces shear off."
He looks rapt. "Go on."
"The water bites holes in the cliffs. In some places the caves reach all the way through to the interior. The streams flow down into the sea through them. They all originate from the mountain slope, and when it rains, they become floods. The castle has such a stream that flows straight through it, through cisterns in the walls to keep flowing down to the valley below.
"When the sun does shine, it is incredibly beautiful. The whole island is dark green grass from one end to the other, except for forests on the slopes of the mountain that my ancestors kept as a hunting reserve."
"I'd like to see all this someday," he says.
"Jason, you—"
"I know I can't," he says bitterly. "I know, I know, I'm not good enough for you, really. This can only be a fling."
"I did not mean it that way. You know that. You are good enough. More than good enough."
"Am I?"
I bite my lip, trying to find the words to soothe him, but all I can say is
"Jason. I've been royalty all my life, but only you make me feel like a princess."
He looks genuinely shocked. "Do you mean that?"
"Yes." I nod. "If things were different, if they were…."
"You're right." He takes my hands. "We shouldn't do this. Do you like your food?"
"Yes, but there is too much. I cannot eat all this."
He nods. "Yeah, me either. They feed you in these places, no denying it."
As we leave, Jason takes my hand. We start back toward town, and I slow my steps, extending the walk. He has practice in the morning; he will need his sleep.
"I do not want to go back," I sigh.
"Home?"
"To the house. To the old ways. I want it to be like this now."
His grip tightens on my hand.
"You have to decide what you're going to do."
"It would be easier if we could just be ourselves. If I could just be me and you, you. If we could go where we want, do what we want. I no longer wish to hide. I would like to walk down the main street with you."
"Let's do it. Throw back your hood and let's just walk and let everybody see us."
I stop in my tracks. "You jest."
"I don't. What are they going to do?"
"I told you, I will be sent home by morning. They'll take you away. I already wonder if I should even be here. I can't keep you."
His expression is blank. "You wonder if you should be here?"
"Nothing I've done with you is a mistake. I regret none of it, except that I cannot keep you. Do you not see?"
"Who says you can't keep me?"
I cry out in frustration. "You refuse to listen!"
"Yeah, I refuse to listen to nonsense. Run away with me."
"I cannot do that."
"Yes, you can. We'll just run. Disappear. Nobody will look for me, it'll be you that's the problem. Get a haircut and dye your hair. I'd hate to see it, but I'd hate to lose you."
"I want to," I whimper. "I wanted to as soon as you said it, but I can't.
Don't make me think about it ending."
I throw myself at him, and he wraps his arms around me. We stand for a while before we begin to move.
"I'm going to make Friday really special, I promise."
"I believe you."
"Come on, let's get you back to your castle."
Resigned, I walk with him, hand in hand.
"Tomorrow we'll just hang out at the house. I'll tell the boys to get lost for a while, give us our space. We can study or watch TV or just sit together. Whatever you want, Ana."
"Thank you," I sigh.
We kiss deeply before I return to the house. Once I'm back in my bedroom, I close the window and sulk, sitting cross-legged on my bed, eating a fortune cookie.
I flop back and stare at the ceiling. It offers me no answers.
One floats into my mind.
I could abdicate.
I chew my lip, and send a video-call request to Konstantin. It's midafternoon back home, so I may not reach him at all. I wait for a minute and nearly give up before he answers.
"Sister!" he says, beaming into the camera. "What troubles you at this late hour?"
I sigh. "Konstantin, how would you like to be king?"
He starts laughing. "No thank you. I've seen enough of what Mother goes through to want to chafe my ass on a throne. I have important philandering to attend to."
Huffing, I scowl at him. "I'm serious. I just had a thought…."
The blood drains from his face. "Don't you dare."
"I could."
"You can't."
"I should."
"You mustn't."
I smirk. "Why, afraid you'll come down with a case of responsibility?"
He snorts. "No. If you abdicate the throne, then I'll have to abdicate the throne, and poor Illiana will have to abdicate the throne, and it'll just be anarchy. We can't have anarchy, sister. Sorry, you were born into the top spot. I'm just the spare, and I like it that way."
I fold my arms over my chest and give him a sharp look.
"You look so queenly. The subjects will just love you."
BENCHED Page 37