by Alex Flinn
I sigh. “I guess so.”
But when I turn the corner, I stop.
“Whoa!”
Chapter 4
It’s a castle. Not a modern-looking one like Buckingham Palace, with electricity and toilets (when we visited it, the plumber was there—his truck said THE DIPLOMAT OF DRAIN AND SEWER CLEANING—and Trav and I had fun joking about what the queen had done to stop up the drains), but a real castle, the kind that comes in a set with a bunch of plastic knights and horses. It could even have a dungeon.
“Check it out.” I start toward it.
“Hey, wrong way. I want to go back.”
“Suit yourself.” I walk faster. “But I have the sandwiches.”
“Hey!” Travis starts running after me, but he’s got on flip-flops. I have sneakers, and I was on the track team at school, so I can outrun him.
The castle is farther than I thought because it’s bigger than I thought. It’s big enough to put a whole city in. I finally reach it about ten minutes later. There’s a moat around it full of brown, sludgy water.
“Oops. Can’t go in,” Trav yells from way back.
I walk around the perimeter until I see where the drawbridge is. It’s open, and there’s a castle door at the end of it. I start across.
“Are you sure you should do that? Someone might behead you.”
“Come on, Travis. What are we going to do, go crawling back to Mindy? This is the first interesting thing we’ve seen in the past three weeks. I just want to look around.”
At the door, I see two guards. Surprise—they’re sleeping. I grasp the handle and pull on it. It opens with a loud squeal. I step inside.
We’re in this huge room with three-story ceilings.
“Wow, it’s like the ballroom in Shrek 2,” Travis says.
I nod and hand him a sandwich. It lightens the load, and we’ve still got six or seven more. To be safe, I hold on to the beer.
“Hey, look.” I point at a suit of armor standing in a corner. “Let’s try it on.”
“There could be someone in it.”
I jump back. I hadn’t thought about that. I don’t think the sleeping people around here look like they date back to medieval times, but better safe than sorry. I slowly, gingerly lift the bill of the knight’s face mask.
It’s empty.
I breathe out. “Maybe this place won’t be as freaky as the rest.”
This is so cool. All the castles and towers we’ve been to, you’re either not allowed to look around inside at all, or if you are, you just get to stand behind velvet ropes and see stuff in climate-controlled boxes. This place is real, even if it is a little dusty. I start down a hallway that goes out to the side. I look in the first room. “Hey.”
“What is it? The kitchen?”
“Better.”
It’s an actual throne room like in the movies, and there are people in it, peasants maybe, waiting to see the king or something. The king isn’t there, though.
“They’re asleep like everyone else in this town,” Travis says.
“But look.”
Two guards sleep off to one side. Each has a pillow in his lap. On each pillow is a crown encrusted with diamonds, emeralds, and rubies. It’s just like the stuff we saw in the Tower of London, only it’s out where we can touch it.
“I’m trying one on,” I say.
“Are you sure you should? What if they wake up?”
“We’ve practically stomped on these people, and they haven’t woken up.”
Still, when I take the crown off its velvet pillow, I almost expect an alarm to go off or something. None does, and I place the crown on my head. “How do I look?”
Travis laughs. “Kind of stupid.”
“You’re just jealous. Try the other.”
“It’s a girl’s crown.” Still, he puts it on. We fool around, sitting on the thrones and patting the peasants on the heads. After a while, Travis says, “We should take them.”
I shake my head. I don’t like the idea of stealing anything. “Let’s look around first and see what else there is.”
We put the crowns back and go into more rooms. On the third floor, there’s a bunch of rooms with nothing in them but dresses.
“Wouldn’t you think this stuff would get eaten by rats and bugs?” Travis says.
“You see any rats and bugs? Maybe they’re sleeping, too.”
When we reach maybe the tenth room of dresses, Travis says, “This is boring. Let’s try on the armor.”
I’m about to say okay when I notice this weird little staircase going off to the side. I saw a turret when we were outside. I wonder if this goes up to it.
“Let’s go there first,” I say.
Before Travis can protest, I start upstairs. I didn’t think the staircase was very tall, but it curves around and goes higher. Then it curves again and again.
When we finally reach the top, the door is closed. I open it and find a room with nothing but a girl, sleeping on the floor.
She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.
Chapter 5
I stare at her. I’ve never seen a human being who looks like her, and I’m from Miami, where good-looking people go to spawn. But this girl isn’t just beautiful. She’s perfect in a way that’s unreal, like one of Meryl’s Barbie dolls.
What I’m saying is, this girl is…
“Wow, she’s hot,” Travis says when he finally reaches the door.
Yeah. That. She’s lying on the floor with these golden curls all around her, like someone arranged them that way. Her body, I can tell even in her long dress, is totally perfect. She’s taller than almost everyone else here, and thin in all the right places with these great…
“Would you look at her?” Travis interrupts my thoughts again.
I am. I stare at the top of her dress, which she’s really filling out, let me tell you. I feel this incredible urge to touch her, but I know it’s wrong because she’s asleep.
But the weird thing is, it’s not her body I notice the most. It’s her face.
Her skin is the color of milk with just the tiniest bit of strawberry Nesquik mixed in. Her eyes are closed, but I can tell they’re huge, with long eyelashes that curve upward.
And her mouth. It’s full and red, and her lips definitely don’t look like lips that haven’t been moistened in hundreds of years.
For some reason, looking at her makes me think of Amber. Not that she looks like Amber, because she doesn’t. Amber’s beautiful in a normal, human way. But, compared to this girl, Amber’s total chopped liver.
And somehow, just looking at her, I know she isn’t like Amber. She wouldn’t dump someone for a guy with a cooler car.
“What are you, in love with her?” Travis says. “You’re staring like an idiot.”
The weird thing is, I think I am.
Stupid.
“She’s asleep. You could…” Travis looks at the door. “…do anything.”
“That’s sick.”
“You know you were thinking about it.”
“No, I wasn’t. That would be wrong.”
“Right and wrong’s getting kind of fuzzy for me. Was it wrong to ditch the tour? Was it wrong to lie to Mindy? Was it wrong to sneak in here?”
“I guess.” I keep looking at the girl. I can’t stop looking at her.
“Come on. I dare you to touch her.”
“Okay.” I want to anyway. I lean toward her, wishing she’d wake up.
I reach down and touch one of her curls.
Soft. So soft. I comb my fingers through it to make it last. She stirs in her sleep, and I imagine she’s enjoying my touch, but of course, that’s impossible.
“Not her hair, dorko. She can’t even feel her hair.”
“She can’t feel anything. She’s asleep like the rest of them.”
“So why not touch an important part?”
It’s not because Travis says to. It’s because I want to. I move my hand back up the length of her hair to her fac
e.
It feels like—God, this is hokey—flower petals. Roses, maybe. I move my finger across her cheek, to her mouth, her lips. They’re parted slightly, and suddenly, I can’t keep from admitting it: I want to kiss her. Crazy, because ten minutes ago I was still completely thinking about Amber, but I really want to kiss this comatose chick. I lean closer.
“Not her cheek, idiot!” Travis leans down. “God, get out of the way.”
“No!” I block him. It’s impossible to say that I totally, like, respect this girl even though I don’t know her. I can just tell she’s someone special.
God, I wonder if she’s a princess!
I stand. “Look, I want to kiss her, but not in front of you. Why don’t you go downstairs and steal those crowns? The princess and I need some time alone.”
“For real?”
“Sure.” I can get him to put them back later. “But give me ten minutes.”
“Okay, but I’ll be back soon.” He starts toward the door and then turns back. “Hey, you don’t think it’s really stealing when they’re, like, never going to wake up?”
I sort of do, but I’m not the one doing the stealing, and I want Travis gone. “Of course not.”
“Okay. See ya.” And he’s gone.
I’m alone in the room except for the girl. I touch her hair again, and her cheek, now that I can do it without Travis ragging on me. She sighs softly in her sleep. She’s so beautiful, I wish she’d wake up so I could talk to her. But it’s probably better this way. If she were awake, she wouldn’t be into me.
That’s when I think of Snow White.
Snow White was Meryl’s favorite fairy tale. Of course, being a boy, I thought it was lame. Still, she watched the DVD maybe a thousand times, so I couldn’t help but know the story, which is about a princess who eats a poisoned apple.
Everyone thinks she’s dead. But then the prince kisses her. She wakes up, and she and the prince live happily ever after.
Maybe I could wake her up.
Except, of course, I’m no prince.
And there’s all those other sleeping people. That didn’t happen in Snow White.
Still, it wouldn’t hurt to kiss her. I’d feel less like a sicko if I think I’m trying to wake her.
I raise her up toward me. Her body is warm, and it’s like nothing to lift her. Her dress is made of this soft velvet, and when I pull her close, I can feel her heartbeat.
I wish I could see her eyes, but her face…her lips…
It’s kind of weird to kiss a girl if you don’t know her name. But maybe I can make one up.
Talia.
The name just comes to me. I don’t know where I got it from. I’ve never known a Talia. Still, I’m sure it’s the perfect name.
“Talia,” I whisper.
She sighs in her sleep.
“Oh, Talia.” I pull her toward me, one hand in her hair, supporting her head. I bring my face close to hers, and it’s like I can see her whole life, being in this castle, isolated, wishing for something more. I don’t know how I know it, maybe the same way I know her name. Talia.
My lips are on hers. It’s a long kiss. I hold her closer, feeling her hair, her body, her mouth, and then her hands in my hair.
What the—?
I don’t want to stop kissing her, especially since she’s kissing me back, even if it’s in her sleep.
Still, finally, I have to pull away from her to breathe. So I do.
“You’re so beautiful, Talia.”
I look straight into her grass green eyes. I’ve never seen eyes that color before.
“Thank you, my prince,” she sighs.
Then the green eyes widen.
“Who are you?”
And that’s when she screams.
Chapter 6
She’s awake! It really is like Snow White! Holy crap! But I’m no prince. I’m just this regular guy from America—a totally prince-free country—and she’s still awake.
She opens her mouth to scream again.
“Don’t scream.” I put my fingers over her lips, not like a kidnapper or anything. “I’m not going to hurt you. Please don’t scream.”
Not that it would matter if she did. I mean, there’s no one awake to hear her.
She pushes my hand away.
“Explain yourself! Who are you? Why were you…kissing me?”
“I’m Jack. I wasn’t kissing you, exactly. You were passed out. I was giving you mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.” I lie because I don’t want her to think I was attacking her or something.
“Mouth to…what? What are you saying? What is that?”
Geez, she’s stupid. Beautiful, but dumb. Isn’t that always the way?
Unless they don’t have mouth-to-mouth where—or when—she’s from.
“Jack? Are you one of the dressmakers? What is that you are wearing?”
I look down. I have on kind of junky clothes, an Old Navy Fourth of July flag T-shirt from last summer, and jeans. The shirt’s all torn up from going through the bushes. At least I pulled the jeans on over my swim trunks at the last minute. “It’s a flag T-shirt.”
She looks confused at the word T-shirt and squints at it. “Flag? From what country?”
“The United States. America. Yo soy Americano.”
“Where is that?”
“Other side of the ocean? Head west?” Maybe she hit her head.
Her eyes light up with recognition. “Oh! You mean Virginia?”
Which is weird. Colonial Williamsburg is in Virginia. Maybe all these people who pretend they’re historical figures know each other, like some sort of club. “Yeah, sort of. Not Virginia, exactly. Florida. But they’re both in America.”
“And this is your flag? It is a custom, then, to wear it on your chest?”
It seems kind of weird when you put it that way. “Not always.”
“I see. So you have come from…?”
“Florida.”
“Then you must be here to show me dresses, for you are certainly not visiting royalty.”
I’m not sure I like the way she says “certainly,” but I let it go. The girl has definitely had a bad day. “What dresses?”
She gets a sort of faraway look on her face, then stands.
“Now I remember. Before I…fainted, I suppose, I was looking at dresses, such beautiful dresses, each the exact shade of my eyes.”
She looks at me, and I notice again what gorgeous eyes she has. I imagine what it would be like to have those eyes focused on me.
“They are gone,” she says.
“I didn’t see any dresses. I swear.”
“But you were not here, either. It was just me and one other person. A boy.” She smiles. “No. That was earlier. But then there was a lady, an old woman. It was she who brought the green dresses. She was spinning thread. She told me I could make a wish.”
She stops speaking and turns away from me, toward the window. “But why can I not remember? It just happened.”
“Maybe I can help you,” I say, kneeling beside her. “Close your eyes.”
She gives me a look, like maybe I’m trying to trick her, but she closes them. With her eyes closed, it’s like the lights have gone out, and now it’s nighttime.
“Okay,” I say. “Now, try to picture it. You’re looking at the pretty dresses, and there’s an old woman there. What does she look like?”
“I could tell she was once beautiful. She had black eyes that glittered like onyx.”
“She said you could have a wish, and then what?”
She places her hand over her eyes. “Oh, I have a headache.”
“What’s the next thing you remember?”
She breathes in deeply, then sighs. Finally, she says, “A dream. It must be, for I was kissing a prince, my prince. He was telling me how beautiful I was.”
“Your boyfriend?”
“No! I have no friends, certainly none who are boys. I have been nowhere, met no one.” She shakes her head. “It was but a dream. Then I
opened my eyes, and you were kissing me.” She looks down a moment, examining something on her skirt. It looks like a spot of blood.
And suddenly, her eyes open fully, wider and greener than before.
“Oh, my!”
“What?” I back away. “What is it?”
“A kiss! You say I was sleeping, and you happened upon me?”
“Yeah.”
“Yes. And did you think I was quite beautiful?” I grimace, and she says, “Oh, never mind. Of course you did. Everyone agrees that I am utterly stunning.”
“Modest, too.”
She ignores me. “So you saw me, and I was so beautiful that you immediately fell in love with me.”
This girl’s pretty full of herself, but it’s not far from the truth. “Well, not—”
“You fell in love with me, and you leaned over and kissed me. Love’s first kiss. And when you kissed me, I woke immediately. Is that true?”
“Yeah.”
And suddenly, she begins to cry. “Oh, no. Oh, no. I am a fool. Old pudding-faced Lady Brooke was right. I am a stupid girl and ought never have been trusted for even a minute on my own.”
“What are you talking about?” I want to put my arm around her or something, but I get the feeling that wouldn’t be a good idea.
“The curse, stupid!”
“Now I’m stupid? What happened to you being stupid, and what curse?”
“The curse. The curse. Everyone knows about Malvolia’s curse. Oh, my father will kill me. They will probably lock me up in a convent!” She begins to sob again, and then seeing that I am still not with the program, she says, “Before her sixteenth birthday, the princess shall prick her finger on a spindle and die.”
“But you’re not dead.”
“No. The fairy Flavia changed it so I would merely sleep. The whole kingdom would sleep, to wake only when I was wakened by true love’s first kiss.”
“Uh-huh.” She’s nuts.
“The old lady was Malvolia, do you not see? She came with the dresses, gained my trust. She had probably been watching me all my life. She brought with her a spindle. She knew I would make a wish, and when I did…”