Me, Cinderella? Part 13

Soon I undressed and got into bed. I clutched my pillow hard to my chest and tried not to let my sobs escape. Stupid, so stupid. I was a poor girl, and he was a prince. I scolded myself for all of my desires, telling myself not to think about him. For hours I lay there and listened for his step outside the door and cried, so many tears that I thought there would be no more for the morning, and I could escape back to the apartments, and perhaps leave altogether, leave Hungary, once I had visited my mother.

Forget this.

I might never be able to have Eliot take me in his arms again, but there was no way that I would ever forget that kiss.

The kiss, that's what changes everything. In fairytales, that is. The prince kisses the princess, and suddenly she is awake after all these years, or brought back to life, or gets her voice back. Or the princess kisses the prince, and he is transformed from a hideous creature into a handsome man, waiting to dash her into his arms.

I had never been kissed before Eliot. In kindergarten a boy pressed his lips on my ear and nearly deafened me, and it was all downhill from there. I grew up in the most awkward way-sometimes pudgy, sometimes geeky, never popular. In high school, the most guys would do was gawk at my cleavage. One time in college-well, it was the last time I let myself be dragged to a party. I'd say my resume was lackl.u.s.ter in the romantic department, and that was being generous.

And then Eliot kissed me.

While it changed me in some ways, it wasn't as dramatic as being woken up from a coma or transmogrified from a frog, and when he told me it was a mistake, I cursed myself for thinking that it could be anything more. In some ways, his kissing me made me even more withdrawn, self-conscious. I didn't get my voice or life back; what I got was a crippling sense of unease whenever he walked by, knowing that we couldn't be together. The kiss didn't help with our secret. It just made it worse. Here, Brynn: here's something you can't have, something wonderful and beautiful and perfect that you can't keep.

But it did something else, and maybe that's the part that they talk about in fairy tales. It woke up a feeling inside of me, an emotion that I didn't think I had. An emotion I didn't know I was capable of having.

Desire. Fiery, erotic desire.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

The next day Eliot made me breakfast and told me that the landlady had arranged the apartments to be ready. He looked away when he told me, as though he was ashamed of sending me away. I called a cab and left, feeling like I was losing everything wonderful that I had ever known. Well, everything but one.

I hugged Lucky inside the cab. He sat peacefully, purring on my lap, as I rode away into the heart of Budapest dry-eyed. After last night, I knew that Eliot didn't want me, and it tore me apart inside. The first man that I had ever truly desired, and the wall between us cemented shut. I shook the thoughts out of my head and tried to focus on the beautiful, snow-capped city that I would now be living in. I thought about the cemetery that my mother was buried in. I would have to make plans to visit there. Perhaps this afternoon, once I had settled into the apartments and had some time to breathe. I cursed Eliot for not having taken me there during my stay, then forgave him-he didn't know, and he didn't know how important it was to me. It was up to me to make that clear.

The apartments had been cleaned, and heated, and there were already two students there by the time I arrived. The landlady had moved out half of the bunkbeds-to another set of apartments? I didn't know-and the rooms looked larger, more inviting. I slung my suitcase, heavier now from my trip with Marta, over onto the bunk next to the window.

"Brynn!" A familiar voice at my back caused me to spin around.

"Mark!"

I ran toward him and barreled into a hug. It had been only a couple of weeks since we had last seen each other, but in my mind it felt like forever had pa.s.sed. He smiled at me, awkwardly, and I thought that he seemed younger than I remembered. Probably, though, it was just the contrast of spending time with Eliot and Marta.

"How have you been?" he asked. "This place looks cool!"

"Yeah, it's nice," I said. "I haven't seen that much of the city." Just the castle that Eliot lives in.

Mark left to unpack in the guys' room, and we spent the rest of the evening with the other students who trickled in from the airport. Some carried huge suitcases full of clothes, pictures, and reminders of home. One guy arrived with just a backpack over his shoulder and immediately went to sleep in one of the kitchen chairs. All of the girls in my room seemed nice enough, although one shy brunette shook my hand, said "h.e.l.lo" in Hungarian, and immersed herself in a book in the corner of the bedroom.

Chatting with Karen, another California girl, I finally was beginning to find myself somewhat at ease. She reminded me of my roommate, Shannon-artsy as h.e.l.l, and pa.s.sionate about her photography. She was in the middle of telling me a story about her freshman linear algebra professor when another girl stepped into the middle of the doorway of the bedroom. Her heels clicked loudly on the floor, and she dropped her suitcase with a loud thwack, tossing her perfectly slicked hair behind her. One hand on her hip, a scowl on her face, she reminded me of nothing else so much as a p.i.s.sed off supermodel.

"Whose cat is that in the kitchen?"

"He was here when I got here!" I said brightly, turning to her with a smile of good intentions. "His name is Lucky. I'm Brynn."

"I don't give a s.h.i.+t what his name is," she said, pressing her lips together and letting me finish her sentence for her in my mind: and I don't give a s.h.i.+t what your name is either.

"The landlady said it was okay as long as we keep the rooms clean-"

"No." The girl shook her head from side to side so definitively that my hands began to clench in my lap.

"What do you mean, no?" Karen spoke up.

"Are you allergic?" I asked.

"I'm not living with a G.o.dd.a.m.n cat," the girl spat out.

"Seriously?" Karen said. I could have hugged her right then and there for sticking up for Lucky.

"Okay," I said. I hated confrontation. "Okay. We'll find him a new place to stay tomorrow."

"Not tomorrow," the girl said. She picked up her bag and swung it onto the empty bed beside her, turning again to leave the room. "Now. I'm putting him out back in the alley."

"What the h.e.l.l?" Karen said, the other girl's footsteps echoing through the hallway as she went. "That's so not cool."

"I have to make sure he's okay," I said, standing up to follow the new girl to the kitchen.

I pa.s.sed her in the hallway as she was coming back from the alley exit. She didn't even look at me as she brushed past, the scowl still plastered on her dark, beautiful face.

"Lucky?" The night air outside felt brisk, and I hadn't put a coat on. A few snowflakes drifted down under the alley streetlights. "Lucky?"

A plaintive meow came from the other side of the alley, and a small blur of gray and white came das.h.i.+ng over to my feet. I picked up the kitten.

"You poor thing," I said, holding him close and feeling him s.h.i.+ver through his thin coat. What could I do? Maybe I could leave a blanket outside for him, make him a bed. I didn't know if that would be enough. I couldn't leave him to freeze to death outside. He might get run over by a car, or attacked by a stray dog. All of the terrible possibilities ran through my mind, and I stood there, motionless, not knowing what I could possibly do to save him.

"Brynn?"

I turned to see Mark in the doorway, his dark hair haloed by yellow light.

"Brynn, you're nuts! Where's your coat?"

"I-I-" My voice caught on the first syllable, and then I was sobbing, letting all of my frustration and anger and pity boil up and out of me. Mark stepped down and put his arms around me in an uncertain embrace, with Lucky caught between us. He meowed, b.u.t.ting his head against Mark's chest and expecting a pet.

"It's okay," he said, obliging the kitten by scratching his head. "It's going to be okay."

"G.o.d, who the h.e.l.l does she think she is?" I said. Tears streamed down my cheeks.

"Brynn, it's okay."

"It's not okay!" I nearly yelled the last word, and Mark glanced back at the open apartment door. "Lucky could die, and she wouldn't care!"

"Brynn, shhhh," Mark said. "She's the director's daughter. The director of the Academy."

"His daughter? So what!"

My eyes must have blazed with anger, because Mark immediately held up one hand to quiet me.

"I know, I know," he said. "But the guy's important. I just thought you should know. And hey, Brynn?"

"What?" I wiped at my eyes with my free hand. My nose ran, and Mark dug in his pockets, holding out a crumpled paper napkin. I took it gratefully and held it up to my face. A tissue to stop a leaking dam, it was entirely ineffectual.

"I can take the cat," Mark said.

I looked at him, uncomprehending.

"We can sneak him into the boys' room. At least for tonight. And we can take him to a humane shelter tomorrow. "

"I'm not taking him to a pound," I said, hugging Lucky to my chest protectively. "That's almost worse."

"Okay, we'll figure something else out," Mark said. "Alright?"

I nodded, my face now flus.h.i.+ng at how much I had cried in front of Mark. He had only ever seen me break down once before, and I had promised myself never to do it again. I don't know if it was the cold or the strangeness of the country, or perhaps simply Eliot, but I had felt more emotional here than I ever had in California.

"Put him in my pocket," Mark said. He turned sideways, holding his front coat pocket open. I tucked Lucky into the coat and he immediately tried to claw his way out. Mark held him down in the pocket by the scruff of his neck.

"He doesn't like it," I said. Lucky meowed.

"It's just for a little bit," Mark said. "Just until I get down the hallway and into the room. Can you go and be a look out?"

I stepped up into the apartment corridor and peeked into the kitchen, where three of the boys had started up a card game. Inching my way down the hall, I spotted the director's daughter sitting on her bed. She flipped through a fas.h.i.+on magazine, looking the other way. I waved Mark in and blocked the view from the doorway with my body until he had gotten past me and into the boys' room. Lucky let out a small meow that I was sure the girl would have heard, but she kept on reading. I turned and mouthed to Mark Thank you! He grinned and closed the boys' door.

Whew. Lucky was safe, at least until tomorrow morning.

The next day, I snuck out of the apartments early and sat outside on the icy stairs. As much as I didn't want to call Eliot, I had no other option.

He picked up on the first ring.

"h.e.l.lo?"

"Eliot?" My voice turned small, shy. I did not want to ask for anything from him.

"Brynn." A short pause filled the line between us with awkward silence, and I smacked myself in the head mentally for having used his first name. "Why are you calling?"

"I know, I know, I shouldn't," I said. "But I need your help. I need you to come take Lucky."

"I've already told the landlady-"

"It's not that. It's another girl that has a problem with him. The...the director's daughter. She hates cats. Can you come take him? Please?" My words sounded strained, desperate. I didn't know what I could possibly do if Eliot couldn't take the kitten. Another period of silence pa.s.sed.

"I'll be there soon."

Elated, I snuck inside and to the boys' room. Before I could knock on the door, however, it opened and Mark peeked out with eyes still crusted with sleep. Lucky sat behind him on the floor, his ears perked up.

"I heard footsteps," he said. "What's up?"

"I found someone to take Lucky," I said. "He'll be here soon."

"Good. The little guy needs to go out, I think. He's been pacing by the door. Is it safe?"

I looked back, but the girls' room door was shut.

"I think so," I said. Mark opened the door and Lucky darted out into the hallway, circling around my legs in a figure eight and purring. I picked him up and he licked my nose.

I took Lucky out to the front and he darted behind the granite steps. I sat down and waited for him to finish his business. Soon he jumped back up to my lap for petting. Mark came outside into the street, having put on some warmer clothes, and sat beside me.

"My b.u.t.t is going to freeze to these steps," he said. He rubbed his hands together, his breath white and warm in the chilly morning air.

"Amen. I thought winter in California was cold."

"So who's coming to take Lucky?" He reached over and scratched Lucky's chin. Lucky rolled onto his back on my lap and pawed at Mark's hand, his tiny claws splayed fiercely in the air.

"Um, Dr. Herceg." As I said the name, my heart cramped with emotion.

"Wait, the Dr. Herceg?"

I nodded.

"How the h.e.l.l do you have his phone number?"

"I-um-" I really didn't know how to explain it without giving away everything. Mark c.o.c.ked his head and looked at me curiously. "He met me when I arrived here early."

"So you can just call him up to say h.e.l.lo?"

"I guess," I said, my eyes s.h.i.+fting away uncomfortably. "He said Lucky would be okay here, so I think he feels bad about it."

"Wow."

"Yeah," I said. "He gave me a textbook to study, too."

"Oh? What's it about?"

We talked for only a few minutes about the kinds of math we thought we were going to have to work on, and I told Mark all that Eliot had taught me about the basis of his work, without mentioning that he had personally taught me, of course. So engrossed in our discussion, I didn't notice the car pull up until the engine's sound registered in my brain. I turned to see Eliot getting out of the car.

Mark jumped up and almost ran down the steps to greet him.

"It's so good to see you again, Dr. Herceg. Thank you so much for this opportunity." He shook Eliot's hand firmly. I held Lucky with both arms, trying not to seem awkward.

"Mark, Brynn. It's good to see both of you again." He looked tired, dark circles under his eyes.

"Thanks for taking Lucky," I said. I held him out to Eliot, who took him gently. The kitten looked so small in his large hands. His gaze turned from Mark to me, as though trying to figure out the answer to a logic puzzle.

"He's a good cat," Mark said.

"I'll see that he's taken care of." Eliot looked once more at the both of us, then pressed his lips together. "I'll see you both later, I'm sure."