Eliot Strange and the Prince of the Apocalypse

22) Your Prince Charming

When I was in middle school, before my mom left my dad, I would wake in the morning, still in the sleep world, not yet awake, and feel contentment. There was a brief interlude when I forgot my life and what was in store for me that day. I felt safe and confident and happy. Then, I would completely wake up and life did not seem so exciting or secure. It was just another day in sixth grade hell.

This is the way I wake up today. Sunlight finds a way into my bedroom between a bent blind slat. The light flickers on my face like a moth on a nightlight. It tickles my eyelids and insists it is time to wake up, but I want to stay here. I feel satisfied. Snug and comfortable. I am rested, but I want to stay where I am. Except, I am thirsty. So thirsty. Where is my drink of water? And just like that, I am awake and remembering that I am not safe. The world is gone, and Steven is gone.

I need to get out of bed, but I do not want to wake the prince. I mean Jack. I have got to start thinking about him as Jack, not Prince Torin. I was terrible to him last night. I was so awful to him that I am embarrassed. He was trying to help me, and I told him I hated him. I need to apologize, but not just yet. I have got to sneak out of this bed and get that drink of water first.

I lift the comforter off my legs and slide out, ever so carefully, all while holding my breath. I am upright and sneak a look over my shoulder. Prince Torin, dammit I mean Jack Taylor, is gone.

I go into the kitchen and drink a glass of water and then make myself a cup of cold, weak black coffee. I set the cup down and only then notice a note on the fridge. It says:

          Gone to school to get my things, be back soon.   

                                           Your Prince Charming

Oh my lord have mercy. Highly educated in the best schools in his country or not, this guy is an idiot. I am no longer feeling apologetic. I am mad all over again. Steven loves this guy. He practically worships him. He tried to protect the prince and was taken, maybe killed, for his efforts. And now the prince is traipsing all over town where people are looking for him and willing to give him up for a truckload of canned Spaghettios and Beanie Weenies. Idiot.

I have got to go find that stupid, conceited prince now. And I swear if he keeps it up, I am going to turn him in myself. Right now I would trade the prince for a bag of wormy apples and a soured yogurt cup.

I hear a knock at the door. He is back. I swing open the door as I am saying, "Where have you...." I trail off as I see not the prince, but my next door neighbor, Mr. Thomas.

"Oh, Mr. Thomas. You surprised me. I thought you were gone. Thought you were going to leave town."

"My ride fell through," he says, "but I think I'll be able to catch one in a few days. Looks like some more soldiers are coming through town."

I say real seriously because Mr. Thomas, while a little weird, has always been kind to me and my mother. "Mr. Thomas, you need to be careful. I don't think those soldiers coming into town now are ours."

"Ours? Well who's to say which is the good side anymore. And speaking of good guys. Who was here last night? I saw him come in, was it Steven?"

I can't tell him the truth. I can't put anyone else in danger. "Yes. it was. He's been staying with me."

"Yes, I noticed. Is he, is he your boyfriend?"

I sense Mr. Thomas does not approve so I say the truth, "No, just a friend. A good friend."

"Well good because I am not sure your mother would approve of a male spending the night here."

Mr. Thomas can be so judgmental sometimes. It is just his age, I guess. I don't dare tell him that Steven is gay, and even before all this he regularly spent the night with me. Mr. Thomas would probably faint at this news.