Waking Rory

by Elizabeth Jeannel

“You’re leaving me here alone?”

  “I’ll be back as quick as I can, Even.” He sighed, reaching out to me. “It’ll be just like all the other trips.”

  I jerked away. “The other trips you weren’t leaving me in another country.”

  “I’m sorry. But you can’t just quit the internship, and I can’t ignore these issues, either. Autumn will still be here. So will Henry. You’ll be fine.”

  I swallowed hard. “Yeah, fine.”

  I left while he was asking what I’d needed to tell him, ignoring the question completely. If he thought I was going to open up to him while he was abandoning me on the other side of the world, he was so wrong. And so was Autumn because I was sure she’d known he was leaving before our little heart-to-heart, too.

  I wiped my cheek as quickly as I could when Rory walked in the kitchen. That was the last thing I needed her to see. I didn’t want to explain it, either.

  “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” I grinned, trying to amuse myself.

  “Why do you keep calling me that?” she huffed, crossing her arms. Someone wasn’t a morning person.

  “It’s a movie about… well… you.”

  “Like on the TV?”

  “Yeah, it’s a cartoon—um, like a drawing, but it moves,” I sputtered. How were you supposed to explain cartoons to someone who barely knew what a TV was?

  “About me?” she asked.

  “Yeah, sort of.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  I let out a laugh. “We can watch it later if you want. We gotta get going though, or we are going to be late.”

  We stepped off the elevator and onto the third floor, and I felt like the looks I was getting were different somehow. Yesterday, I was shredding papers. Today, I was assisting with the planning of the gala? It was huge, but no one seemed jealous, which meant either they thought I deserved it (unlikely), or they didn’t want to do it, and that was scary.

  I let out a breath and headed over to the woman who’d talked to me the week before, when Madam Caron had insisted I wouldn’t be of any help. I wondered if Nash had tried to get her to have me help then.

  I was nervous. Nash had warned me about doing this, but that didn’t mean I was really ready to jump into something like this. The gala was huge for McCoy Enterprises.

  “My uncle told me you’d asked me to help?” I choked out as she looked up.

  “Oh, merci,” she called over the rather thick binder she was looking through. “I thought maybe you could look over what I have here and tell me what you think?”

  “What I think? I’m just an intern. Don’t—don’t you have it mostly planned already?”

  She nodded. “Yes, but… it has to be right. This is my first year here.”

  Of course, it was. “I’ll give it a look.”

  She handed me a rather long slip of paper, handwritten in French. I was glad I had Rory. Looking back and forth between my book was hard, and I still wasn’t great at this. There was hope that, with Rory by my side, I’d actually be able to get it done. From what I could read, I’d be incredibly busy that day, which was more than fine with me. Anything to keep on the good side of Madam Caron.

  “And away we go,” I whispered to Rory, pulling her toward my tiny desk.

  She reached for the slip of paper and read it over carefully, frowning at some of the words. That wasn’t a good sign.

  “Do you know where to find all this?” she asked as we took a seat.

  I shrugged. “More Internet searches.”

  She let out an exasperated huff. She hated the computer.

  I actually knew a lot about the galas than I would ever admit to Rory or Madam Caron. Each branch of the company hosted their own charity gala each year. The French branch got the summer gala. Seattle went wild with a Christmas gala. New York typically did something for Halloween, and Chicago had a spring fling.

  I’d attended Seattle’s Christmas gala every year since I was eight. I’d only been to the New York one once, but I’d never attended in Chicago or France. I knew how things worked back in the states, but with the French branch being our first international location, I had next to no knowledge about how they did things. As much as our lovely party planner wanted my advice, I wanted to stay out of it completely.

  All I really knew was that it was big. Everyone who was anyone attended, giving themselves a chance to dress up, wave around their money, and tell the press whose design they were wearing. I personally loved wearing off-the-rack gowns, because telling reporters the child of the McCoy’s was wearing something from Sears just really tickled me pink.

  I had a feeling I wouldn’t be able to do that this year, especially not if I was able to bring Rory. I laughed to myself. Bring Rory. Like my date. Like that would ever happen. Who was I kidding? I turned my attention back to the task at hand. At least getting my work done was possible.

  Luckily, the list was descriptive. Most of it just involved phone calls to confirm decisions Elaine had already made. None of what Elaine had done seemed like a bad idea to me. It was all pretty standard by way of party-planning.

  She seemed to have thought of everything, too. Multiple meal options, allergens, parking, valet. There was no way I could have done all that on my own.

  The rest of our job involved changing times of deliveries or addressing specific menu concerns. With Rory’s help, her doing most of the talking., I was able to get that part done,

  Picking up phones came rather easy to her, although she did seem to confuse people on occasion with some of the older terms she used. Slang had clearly changed a bit, and it wasn’t like she spent most of her time around proficient French speakers who could correct her.

  We finished the list by lunch, and I returned to an exhausted but grateful Elaine

  “You have finished?” she asked, surprised.

  I nodded. “All set.”

  “What did you think?” she asked.

  “It all looked pretty standard to me. Look, if you’re planning a beautiful party in France, the people who come expect it to be… well, French. I think you’re worrying yourself too much.”

  She let out a relieved sigh. “I have more for you.”

  “Lay it on me.”

  And that was how I finally started doing well at work.

  Chapter 16

  Rory and I returned from work to an empty house. Nash was probably halfway back to Seattle by then. I was trying not to think about it. I wasn’t alone. And it wasn’t like I was used to Nash being around, anyway. Having him a 12-hour plane ride away was terrifying, though.

  She had not forgotten about the movie. She asked about it the moment we walked through the front door. I was lucky Nash had so many streaming services, otherwise I might not have been able to find it.

  I grabbed us some popcorn, and we curled up on the couch.

  I was surprised at how close Rory sat to me. It would be so easy to yawn, stretch, and slip an arm over her shoulder, but I knew better. She’d likely scoot all the way to the other end of the sofa.

  Or she wouldn’t. Then what would I do?

  As the movie started, Rory was mesmerized. She’d seen the TV for a bit the first day, but all we had was local channels and some basics on whatever plan the rental owners signed up for. We’d watched one movie, a few days before. And we had one TV that flashed news throughout the day at the office, but it wasn’t a main focal point.

  There was something special about watching a cartoon for the first time, seeing paintings come to life.

  Then she gasped, “That is most definitely not how that happened.”

  Suddenly, she was sitting on the edge of her seat. “They would just send me off to the woods to live with fairies. That is absolutely something they would have done.”

  I chuckled, as her cheeks started growing more and more red.

  “Oh, ew,” she groaned as the on-screen Aurora began dancing in the woods with the prince. “Who is he supposed to be?”

  “That’s Prince Philip,�
�� I said, settling into the couch.

  Out of nowhere, she threw some popcorn at the TV, hitting the Disney Philip in the forehead. I reminded myself not to mess with her—she had incredible aim.

  “I would never dance with him.” She scoffed. “He was an incorrigible ass who wanted three wives. Three!”

  “Were you at least going to be the main one?” I grinned, stuffing handfuls of popcorn into my mouth. Rory was more entertaining than the movie.

  She slapped my arm and went back to watching the movie.

  “That is not how that happened, either.” She huffed as the fairies brought the on-screen Aurora back to the castle and her loving parents greeted her. “Is this a joke? Tell me this is a joke.”

  “I didn’t write the movie.” I laughed.

  “But you played it!” She hissed, only barely taking her attention off the screen. “I just go and prick my finger? Where did the spindle even come from?”

  She was so heated about it her whole face having flushed as she raged about the historical inaccuracy of her own life. I found it absolutely adorable.

  “Oh, no, Prince Philip will save her!” She rolled her eyes. I was pretty sure she’d learned that from me. “Yeah, let the dragon eat him!”

  I nearly spit my drink.

  “Ew, don’t let him kiss me!” she said enraged, throwing more popcorn at the TV.

  “You know, I’m going to have to clean that up.” I grinned, and she picked up a handful and threw it at my head.

  “What kind of happily ever after is this?” she fumed as the credits began to roll.

  “The make-believe kind?” I shrugged, pulling popcorn from my hair.

  “Is that really what people think of me?” She sighed, slumping back. It was the first time I’d seen her not sitting like there was a board on her back. “That I was some cursed child with loving parents who just wanted to save me from the evil witch?”

  I shrugged, swallowing hard like her question had just taken all of the humor from the room. In a way, it had.

  “Most people…” I sighed. “Most people don’t think you were real at all. They think you were just a story made up for children.”

  “Clearly I am not.”

  “Clearly,” I agreed, feeling her hand brush against mine. I wanted to hold it. Why did I want to hold it? “So how did it happen?”

  “Even.” She pulled her hand away, fiddling with the blanket between us for a second. “I’m tired.”

  She stood and went back to her room, and I felt myself slump in my seat. Every time we started to have a moment, she pulled away. Or I did, I suppose. It was me who did the leaving in the alleyway.

  I was just ready to head to bed when I decided to check in on Rory. She hadn’t left her room once since the movie. I tapped on her door, and heard a sniffle in response. I opened it.

  “Hey,” I said, leaning against the door frame.

  She was sitting on the ledge of the large window, looking out at the city. There were streaks of tears down her face and the remnants of old ones dotting her shirt. No, my shirt. She was wearing my pajamas again.

  I didn’t ask, though I should have, but crossed the room anyway. I opened my arms and let her curl up in them.

  A big part of me wanted to ask her about it. What made her so afraid? What had her crying by herself in her room? Was there anything I could do to help? But I didn’t. I just held her. I knew asking made her pull away, and I just wanted to be there for her, even if I didn’t know why she was hurting.

  “Thank you,” she sniffled after a few minutes. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” I nodded. “Listen, if you don’t want to talk about something, just tell me. I won’t press, okay?”

  She nodded, wiping her face with her hands.

  “But,” I sucked in a shallow breath, “I’m here if you do want to talk.”

  She nodded again, swallowing loudly before reaching out and hugging me again. I felt a chuckle escape my lips. Rory fit perfectly under my chin, in my arms. And with her touch came a feeling I didn’t think I should be allowed to feel for her—home.

  “HELP!” I called, feeling panic swell within me. I started sobbing, but kept calling. No one came. No one could get me out of the car.

  But I wasn’t in the car. I was in the tower—that tiny room Valerie’s stupid friends had locked me in. But, both doors were locked. I couldn’t get out. I couldn’t breathe. I was going to die.

  “Even?” I heard a soft velvet whisper call into the night, and I sat up.

  “Yeah,” I breathed, struggling to calm down, center myself, get out of that headspace.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Just a dream. Did I wake you?”

  “No,” Rory sighed, standing sheepishly in doorway. “I couldn’t sleep. Do you think I could—”

  “Yeah, come in.” I rubbed my eyes as she came around and crawled into the bed next to me. “Any reason why you can’t sleep?”

  “Dreams, I think,” she said flatly, but there was something about the dismissive nature of her tone. It told me she knew what she was talking about.

  Maybe she remembered more about the curse than she was letting on. We honestly hadn’t talked much about it. We’d barely talked about her old life at all. I was too busy trying to catch her up on what she’d missed, trying to help her blend in. I didn’t think about it. In a way, that made me much too similar to Nash for my liking.

  “You can talk to me about it.” I sighed, lying back down next to her. My bed was cold now, probably covered in sweat, but I wasn’t about to complain.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “You sure?”

  She nodded, and even in the dim glow from the street lights outside, I could see the slight glisten that had grown in the corners of her eyes. “I just don’t want to be alone.”

  Her voice broke, and suddenly she was crying again. I pulled her into my arms and let her cry. Sometimes you needed that—to just cry.

  “I’m here,” I whispered into her hair. “You’re not alone.”

  We stayed like that for a while, legs tangled together, our breath falling in sync until she slowly stopped crying. But she didn’t pull away. She just stayed in my arms. Somehow, we must have drifted off to sleep.

  When I woke the next morning, Rory was still curled into my arms, clinging to my midsection. Her hair was practically in my mouth, but I didn’t dare move. It was the most at home I’d felt since my parents were alive, and I held onto those moments before she woke up like they were oxygen.

  The house was still. I was glad Nash wasn’t here. I really didn’t want to explain this to him, especially not after insisting we were just friends. I also didn’t want to explain to him why I was so drawn to her. I couldn’t even really explain it to myself.

  I had woken Sleeping Beauty, that much was clear. But what did that really mean? Was I her true love? Were we destined to be? If that were the case, which it wasn’t, why was she so afraid of me when we’d first met?

  I let out a sigh, to which Rory responded, “Good morning.”

  She didn’t move, which made me wonder how long she’d been awake. That was perhaps even more confusing.

  “Good morning,” I said back, looking down at her. “Have you been awake long?”

  She shook her head softly. “Only just.”

  Still she didn’t move. In fact, her grip on my midsection just might have gotten tighter, which was both intoxicating and comforting, especially since I could feel her fingers gently trailing my spine. Why was she doing that? And why were her feet still tangled with mine? And why was she just letting me run my fingers through her hair? Why was I doing that?

  “Even?” she asked, her voice barely over a whisper.

  “Yeah?”

  “What was your dream about?”

  I felt myself stiffen. No one had ever thought to ask me before. Which meant I’d never had to say it out loud. The memory of my parent’s death haunted me nightly for the last t
hree years. I’d never had to tell anyone the exact details of the worst day of my life. Or how those details had changed the very fiber of my being so much that I didn’t even know myself.

  She pulled away enough to look up at me, her blue eyes expectant as they looked into mine. I took a deep breath.

  “I lost my parents a few years ago.” I swallowed, and she tucked her head back under my chin. “It was an accident, but it was really bad…um.” I sighed. “They died, and I have dreams about that night a lot now.”

  She didn’t say anything for a moment. She just kept running the tips of her fingers up and down my spine.

  “Did you love them?” she asked finally.

  “Very much.”

  “Were they nice?”

  “They were the—” I choked for a second. “They were the best people on the planet.”

  She nodded, tucking her head under my chin again.

  “What was your family like?” I asked after a moment.

  It was her turn to stiffen, and stiffen she did. Her entire body went rigid, and her fingers stopped moving against my back. I was glad I couldn’t see her face.

  “I barely knew them,” she said flatly, lacking any emotion, which told me rather quickly she was most definitely lying.

  “Oh.”

  She sighed, and we were both quiet for a moment before she spoke again.

  “They were cold and cruel,” she said finally, “And I didn’t know them. Not really. It was my… godmother who raised me.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m sure you miss her.”

  She nodded dismissively and pulled away. Clearly, she was finished with that conversation.

  Rory didn’t come back out of her room until it was time to leave for work. She skipped the small breakfast I’d made, and I was already headed to the car when she caught up. We rode all the way to the company in silence, which even Henry seemed to pick up on.

  I didn’t know how to make this better. Or keep from messing up. Or get close to her because the truth was, it had been a long time since I’d wanted to get close to anyone. I kept Molly at an arm’s length for multiple reasons, but the biggest one was that I couldn’t afford to lose anyone else.