"You're right," I said, shifting in my seat. "I should use my napkin."
An uncomfortable silence filled the car as I wiped my hands. Suddenly I hated myself. I hated this night. I hated everything I was doing. And I was doing it all wrong, too. I was supposed to be alienating Markus so that Carina wouldn't have to hang out with him all the time. And instead here I was running off with him, sitting in a parked car alone with him ... getting heart palpitations whenever he looked at me.
Carina is going to kill me, I thought, if Ingrid or Killjoy doesn't do it first.
"Carina, I was just kidding," Markus said. "I didn't mean to upset you."
"I... I know," I replied. "I just--"
"Do you miss your mom?" Markus asked gently. "I know your grandmother's sick. I--"
"Can we talk about something else?" I interrupted. The more he spoke about "my" family, the more on edge I
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felt. I was starting to hate being reminded of what I was doing here. Sitting alone with Markus like this felt more like a lie than anything else I'd done all day. Going to all those events had just felt like putting on a show, but now it was getting ... personal.
"Okay, what do you want to talk about?" Markus asked.
What's safe? I wondered, trying to think. It wasn't like I could tell him anything about myself. So that left...
"Tell me more about this architecture thing," I said, turning to face him again. "Where do you want to go to school?"
Markus crumpled up his napkin and shoved it into our garbage bag, then stuffed the whole thing behind his seat. He turned, bringing his knee up onto his seat, and leaned back against the door.
"Okay, but this stays between us," he said.
"Scout's honor," I replied.
"What?" he asked.
My stomach dropped. "Just an L.A. phrase I picked up."
"Ah," he said. "Well, I've always loved architecture, ever since I was a kid. Remember how I was always playing with blocks and Legos and Tinkertoys?"
"Mm-hmm," I lied.
"Well, after that I moved on to forts and then clubhouses, and then every Christmas I started asking for books on architecture," he said, growing more animated. "My dad indulged me because he thought it was just a hobby, but when I told him I wanted to study it, he basically blew up."
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"Really? Why?" I asked. "Architecture is a good profession."
"But it's not his profession," Markus said, his eyes hardening. He wrapped his shoelace around and around his finger. "You know a little something about expectations, Carina. You know how it is."
The tone in his voice was suddenly so defeated. I didn't know how it was, exactly, but I was starting to understand. His voice made me feel the exact same way I felt every time another past-due notice came to the apartment. Like there was absolutely nothing I could do.
"Have you tried talking to him again?" I asked.
"Not yet, but I'm going to," Markus said. "I think."
He laughed and looked at me out of the corner of his eye. I smiled in response. I knew it was going to take a lot of courage for him to bring it up with his father again, but somehow I believed he would. Markus didn't seem like the type to back down from a challenge.
"I guess we should go back to the ball," he said, reaching for the keys and starting the car.
I would have given up the ball and the dress and everything else just to hang out in the car with him for another fifteen minutes, but I didn't protest. I knew the night had to end sometime. And I was sure Fröken Killroy was just waiting back at the ball to scream her head off at me.
Markus parked behind the embassy and we snuck in through the back door, through the kitchen and dining room and into the ballroom. I held my breath as we walked around the outskirts of the crowd, approaching Fröken Killroy and her distinguished gentleman. But when she saw me, she simply smiled in an approving way. She
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must have been really smitten with her new boyfriend.
Moments later Markus and I were back on the verandah where our evening had begun.
"See? We didn't get in any trouble at all," he said, laying his hand over mine on the railing.
As soon as he touched me, a warm thrill ran up my arm and down through my entire body.
Actually, I thought, I'm not so sure about that.
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***
Chapter 20
"Excuse me!" I shouted as I attempted to weave my way through the crowded club, desperately trying to find Ribbit in all the madness. "Excuse me! Hey! Excuse me!"
The girl in front of me shot me a look that could have killed a small rodent, then moved about an inch to the left. I glared right back at her, then elbowed her in the back as I mashed myself between her and the large guy to my right.
If that girl knew who I was, a little voice in my brain began indignantly. But I stopped myself midthought. Because if that girl knew who I was, she'd probably be totally unimpressed. Most of the people in this place seemed to be unfazed by anything, whether it was three guys with spikes coming out of their faces getting into a fistfight over the last beer or a stranger vomiting on their shoes.
I have to get out of here, I thought, starting to hyperventilate in the middle of the smoky, sweaty, gyrating crowd. I was starting to miss my security detail. If they'd been here, they would have formed a protective barrier around me at all times.
I stood on my toes and craned my neck, looking for
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the door. When I finally spotted it, I saw none other than Ribbit himself pushing through it with his band mates.
"Ribbit!" I shouted, shoving through the crowd without bothering to excuse myself anymore. I'd made skin-to-skin contact with more people that night than in the rest of my life combined. "Ribbit! Wait!"
I was finally squeezed free of the club and out into the fresh air. I took a second to get my bearings and take a deep breath. Who knew what a luxury oxygen was? Then I saw Ribbit and his friends climbing onto a bus across the parking lot.
"Ribbit! Wait!" I called, scurrying across the grainy, hole-peppered asphalt.
Ribbit paused in the middle of the steps and spotted me. "Hey!" he called out, shoving by a couple of drunken girls who were trying to get on the bus. "Where have you been? I been lookin' all over for ya!"
Really? And where exactly were you looking? I thought. But I said, "You have?"
"Yeah! I thought we were gonna party, but after my set you disappeared," Ribbit said, hooking his arm around my neck. He started walking us both toward the bus again.
"That was probably when I was on the ten-mile-long line for the bathroom," I said. "And I use the term bathroom loosely." I had needed at least three tons of toilet paper to cover the seat.
"Sucks to be a girl," Ribbit said with a chuckle. "Us guys can go wherever we want! Right, dudes?"
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The guys ahead of us who were slowly climbing onto the bus all cheered. A few of them even raised their fists in the air and slapped hands.
"Come on, babe," Ribbit said, turning around as he climbed the bus steps. He held both my hands and tried to pull me up with him.
"Um ... where is this bus going?" I asked. It was almost three in the morning. Pretty soon I was going to have to get started for the hotel so I could relieve Julia of her princess duties.
"Nowhere, for now," Ribbit said. "We're just gonna stay in the parking lot and throw our own private party." He gave me a sexy little smile and I felt my heart start to flutter around. Finally I was going to get Ribbit all to myself. Well, on a bus full of people, but still...
I smiled and let him pull me up onto the bus. There were a dozen or so people smoking, drinking, playing music, and flipping bottle caps into an empty Chinese food container. Ribbit knocked fists with his band mates as he walked by them, something I'd seen him do a million times in his videos, then pulled me toward the rear of the bus. He slouched into a long vinyl couch against the back wall and looked up at me expectantly.
<
br /> "Why don't you shut that door?" he asked, lifting his chin at me. "It's too noisy out there."
I turned around and saw that there was some kind of handle sticking out from the wall. I yanked at it and struggled with it, finally succeeding in pulling across a flimsy brown door that was made out of something not much thicker than paper.
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"Not very effective," I said skeptically. The noise was just as loud as ever.
"Yeah, but now we have some privacy." He reached up, grabbed my hand, and basically pulled me down on top of him. My heart hit my throat.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Kissing my pen pal," he said.
Then he reached up and pulled me to him, slipping his hand around the back of my neck. My first thought was to pull away and get control of the situation, but Ribbit was a really good kisser. And the more I kissed him, the more I wanted to keep kissing him. He tasted like beer and I knew he'd had a lot to drink, but it didn't bother me. Actually, the taste was kind of sexy--forbidden.
If my parents knew what I was doing right now, they'd have simultaneous coronaries, I thought.
Something was digging into my side and I realized that I still had my bag slung over my shoulder. I pulled away from Ribbit and sat up.
"Hold on," I said. "Just let me get this off."
I pulled the bag off over my head and dropped it on the floor. When I turned back to Ribbit, all smiles and tender just-kissed lips, he was snoring.
"Ribbit?" I said, thinking he couldn't be all the way asleep--not that fast. "Ribbit?" I snapped my fingers in front of his face. He only snored louder.
I took a deep breath and checked my watch. I still had a couple of hours left before I really had to leave. Maybe Ribbit would wake up and we could have the nice, long heart-to-heart I'd been looking forward to. Maybe we
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could still have that moment where we'd look into each other's eyes and know we were meant to be.
Just relax, I told myself, leaning back into the couch and listening to the laughter and shouts coming from the front of the bus. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, just like my yoga instructor, Kirin, told me to do whenever I got stressed. Just relax and everything will be fine. The night isn't over yet.
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***
Chapter 21
"Carina! Carina! Wake up! It's Markus!"
I sat straight up in bed when I heard the persistent pounding on my door. Sunlight was streaming through the windows and I blinked against it, completely confused. Where the heck was I? Who was trying to bust down the door?
"Carina! Please! Your guards won't let me in unless you tell them to!"
Omigod! It was Markus! And I was Carina. And I was ... in my pajamas!
I jumped out of bed and ran across the room, checking my face in the mirror. I was all sleep-puffy and flushed, and my hair was sticking out in a million directions. But did I look like Carina without all the makeup?
"Carina, please. I know you're mad, but it's going to be all right," Markus said.
I turned around and looked at the closed door. Mad? What was he talking about? Yeah, I hadn't been thrilled when our amazing kiss last night had been interrupted by a fuming Ingrid, insisting I come back into the ball and
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demanding to know where I'd been for so long. But it wasn't Marcus's fault that kissing him felt so good I couldn't think of a single other thing I wanted to do with the rest of my life. Maybe he thought I was mad that we'd never gotten to talk again after Ingrid had dragged me off-- that he hadn't said good night before leaving the ball? But it wasn't like he'd known that he'd never see me again.... "Carina? Please let me in."
"One minute!" I called out in Carina's accent. I rushed into the bathroom, wrapped a towel around my insane hair, washed my mouth out with Scope, then rushed to the door.
"Carina, I--"
Markus took one look at me and blushed. He was wearing a pair of pressed khakis and a blue shirt and his hair was still wet from his shower. He looked like perfection and from his stunned expression, I was clearly unappealing.
"I'm sorry," he said, looking at the floor. "I didn't realize you weren't dressed."
I guess a princess never answered the door in her pajamas. But technically, I was wearing more clothes than I had been at the ball last night, so I couldn't have cared less.
"Don't worry about it," I said, standing back from the door. "Come in. What's wrong?"
Markus strode to the center of the room, then turned to look at me, surprised. "You mean you haven't seen it yet?" he asked.
"Seen what?" I said, swallowing.
Markus ran a hand over his face, then grabbed the
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remote control from on top of the television. The local news popped onto the screen and the anchor was talking beneath a graphic that read royalty kicks back!
Suddenly my stomach started trying to find a way out of my body.
"... seems royal balls aren't this princess's particular brand of fun," the anchor was saying. "We've acquired these exclusive pictures of Princess Carina of Vineland out on the town last night with a man reported to be her boyfriend, Markus Ingvaldsson...."
As he spoke, a series of still photographs flicked onto the screen. Me in my ball gown walking out of Roscoe's swinging a bag of fried chicken. Me picking up a newspaper for a man after he'd dropped it on his way in. Me licking my fingers in the front seat of Markus's car, an obscene expression on my face--eyes half closed, lips puckered.
"I think I'm going to throw up," I said, lowering myself onto the edge of my bed.
"Carina, this is my fault," Markus said, kneeling in front of me. "I already took full responsibility with my father, and I'll do the same with your father when I get back to Vineland. I--"
"Carina!"
My heart stopped beating as Fröken Killroy and Ingrid burst into Carina's room, still in their pajamas as well. Killroy was about as red as a person can get without full physical meltdown. Ingrid's face was set like a stone statue and grew even paler when she saw Markus kneeling at my feet. That was when I knew I was done for. If Ingrid wasn't on my side, I had no chance.
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"You!" Killjoy said, pointing at Markus. "Get out of her room this instant!"
Markus rose slowly to his feet. "Fröken Killroy, let me explain--"
"I don't want to hear your excuses," Fröken Killroy said, getting right in his face. "You took the princess out of the embassy without security and took her gallivanting around this dangerous city unsupervised. You, Markus Ingvaldsson, should know better."
Markus actually hung his head.
"I am responsible for this girl and you have made me look like a fool," Fröken Killroy continued, her voice quivering. "Now get out of my sight."
Markus cast one last apologetic look at me, then walked out of the room. The moment he was gone, I felt completely and totally alone. Little did he know that I was never going to see him again. The thought made my stomach clench even more than Killjoy's anger.
I looked at Ingrid again, hoping for an ally, but she crossed her arms over her chest and looked away. How could I blame her? I'd gotten her best friend in serious trouble by doing the one thing Carina had specifically asked me not to do--hanging out with Markus. Even kissing him.
"You, young lady, will pack your things immediately," Fröken Killroy told me. I- felt like I was shrinking under her kryptonite gaze. "We are going to be on that three o'clock flight home, and I will tell your parents all about your indiscretion." She stood up straight and smoothed her robe down. "I'm sure the moment your parents hear
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about it, they'll want you there immediately. And they'll probably have my head."
She turned and swept out of the room. My heart slammed against my rib cage as I stood shakily.
"Ingrid, I--"
"I can't believe you did this to Carina," Ingrid said harshly. "All you had to do was follow a few simple instructions. No. One simpl
e instruction. Stay away from Markus! How hard could it be?"
Extremely, I thought.
Ingrid's face was all red and blotchy and her eyes were brimming with tears. Suddenly I felt like someone had smacked me upside the head. The Ingrid I'd known for the past few days would have thought this whole thing was hilarious. These weren't tears of sympathy for her friend. She was crying because she felt betrayed. She was crying because--wait, was it possible? She was jealous.
"Oh my God," I said. "You like Markus, too."
"What?" she blurted, her face contorting with disbelief. And then I knew it for sure.
"You do! You were all happy when Carina told me not to talk to him," I said. "And the one detail you pounded into my brain a billion times was that I should stay away. And ... and when he walked into the room last night, your whole face lit up. I thought you were just on edge because of what we were doing, but that wasn't it. You like him."
Ingrid glared at me through glassy eyes for a moment, then took a deep breath and shook her head. "You know, I was going to help you pack up all Carina's crap, but forget it," she snapped. "You can do it yourself."
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She stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. I sank down onto the bed, wondering how I could have let things go so wrong in so little time. I'd gotten Carina in trouble, I'd gotten Markus in trouble, I'd hurt Ingrid's feelings, and I might have gotten Fröken Killroy fired.
I'd say that my trial day as a princess had been highly unsuccessful.
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***
Chapter 22
I woke up with a start, and my eyes instantly filled with tears from the harsh sunlight. I squeezed them closed and covered them with my hand, then lifted my head. My neck spasmed painfully.
"Ow!" I cried out, sitting up straight. I rubbed at the pain, but it refused to go away.
What kind of position did I sleep in?
And that was when I felt it. The bumping and rumbling beneath me. The distinct sense of being in motion. I opened my eyes and for the first time realized where I was. I was in the back of Ribbit's bus. I had been sleeping with my face on Ribbit's chest] And now the bus was ... moving!
All the blood in my body rushed right to my head and I went into full panic mode. It was bright as day out. All I could see through the windows was dirt. Miles and miles of brown dirt. Where were these people taking me?