by Megan Walker
From here, I can’t see the actual arena floor or the “royal box” where the king and queen watch the show. But I can see a section of the stands, which are packed with patrons eating big pretzels and popcorn (which I’m thinking aren’t exactly accurate to the time period) and waving cheap red and white flags.
Red and white were Chris’s colors, I remember. I wonder if he’s winning, and if so, does he win every time? Or do the knights trade off who gets to win the princess?
“Hey,” I say, when the eruption of cheers dies down. “Were you working the show?” I’ve only ever seen her working at the pub, but I think they do have some Beer Wenches selling drinks in the arena.
“No,” she says. “Just spending my break watching a bunch of meathead knights fake-beat up on each other in the name of misogynistic love.” She smiles. “Which probably shouldn’t be hot, but I gotta admit, it kind of is.”
“I think a lot of other people feel the same way, judging by the crowds.” I pause, thinking about Chris asking me if she’s seeing anyone. “Watching anyone in particular? That knight you went out with the other night?”
She wrinkles her nose. “Nick? No, not him.” Her cheeks redden under her freckles. “I mean, not anyone in particular.”
Convincing.
I know I probably shouldn’t get involved in this, especially given that the last time I tried to help out a hot guy in love, it was Ryan Lansing, and he was sleeping with Sarah at the time, and then Will found out his fiancée was cheating on him in front of the whole cast and crew of Passion Medical and a couple random EMTs.
Though I suppose that worked out for me, ultimately. But still.
My own curiosity gets the better of me. “Hey, what about Sir Stick-Up-His-Ass?”
Her eyes cut back to me sharply. “Chris?”
“Yeah. If, you know, he didn’t have a stick up his ass.”
“But he does. Pretty consistently, from what I can tell.” She folds her arms, and maybe I’m imagining it, but the blush is deepening the more we’re talking about him.
“Okay. But he’s cute,” I point out. She gives me a look, and I hastily add. “I mean, objectively. I’m taken.”
And pregnant. And with a guy I love who is very possibly losing interest in me and our relationship.
She looks down at the dirt, which she scuffs with the toe of her boot. “Yeah, fine. He’s cute.” She sighs, and then looks back up at me. “If I tell you something, can you keep it between us?”
I nod. It’s not like I’m part of the Beer Wenches’ social club.
She waits for another round of cheers from the arena to die down before saying, “I think I used to know him. Like back when I was thirteen or fourteen. We went to this summer theater camp thing together.”
“Really?” I hope I sound convincingly surprised by this information.
“Yeah,” she says. “He looks pretty different, so I didn’t make the connection at first. But later I heard his last name, and it was the same, and then I could definitely see it. Except the Chris I knew back then was this really sweet kid, but this Chris was kind of a dick to me from the beginning, all stuffy and weird.” She shrugs, with a little sad smile. “I guess people change, especially when they suddenly get hot or whatever, but it’s too bad. I really liked him back then.”
I have to keep myself from gaping. And blurting out about how into her Chris is and how he actually seems like he really is a sweet guy still and she should tell him she knows who he is and they should talk about their past and get married and have really good-looking babies.
But even though Chris didn’t swear me to secrecy, I don’t think it’s my place to be the one to let this particular cat out of the bag.
“Wow,” I say, pressing my lips together. “That is too bad.”
Delia shrugs again. “Whatever. Best to avoid faire hookups now anyway, right?” She looks pointedly at the pamphlets in my hand.
“Good point,” I say. Though if Chris is to be believed, he doesn’t actually have lice, and Delia has been treated . . .
Why do I want this so badly for them? I can’t help but wonder.
But I think of Will rebuffing my flirtatious advances, of nights spent in the same bed, barely talking and barely touching, not even to cuddle, and I know that has something to do with it.
“Anyway, back to the pub,” Delia says. “Need me to pass those around to the wenches?”
“That would be great, actually.” I hand her a small stack, and she heads off.
I make my way back to the infirmary, trying to figure out how I can tell Chris he might have a chance without revealing too many details. I’m apparently running a little late, because I see Josh and Anna-Marie waiting for me out in front of my infirmary already, dressed up in medieval garb. Anna-Marie’s in a long white flowing gown that looks vaguely familiar—from a movie, maybe?—and Josh is in a brown tunic with a sketch of a tree on it. He’s got a sword belted to his waist, but like all the weapons worn into the fair, it has to be tied to the sheath, so he can’t draw it on anyone.
“Hey guys,” I say. “Sorry I’m running a little late.”
“It’s okay,” Anna-Marie says, a little too happily, and I can see that her cheeks are pinker than usual and her hair a bit disheveled. “We’re good.” Josh has got his arm slung around her, grinning as well, and I have a feeling they spent at least a few minutes making out in their car before they even got into the faire.
I can definitely see a Ren faire putting these two in the mood. Not that these two need much extra incentive to get in the mood.
I try to ignore the little stab of jealousy.
“I’m actually surprised you guys didn’t want to hit the tournament show first,” I say. “Get an idea of what’s in store for you next week.”
“You mean when I have to stoically stand back and watch a bunch of knights fight over who gets to woo my wife?” Josh says with mock bitterness. But he belies his tone with a pinch to Anna-Marie’s side, and she laughs.
“Well, you got her the part,” I say. “Maybe you should have been a worse agent on this one. Or gotten yourself a role.”
“He did!” Anna-Marie jumps in. “While I am the princess whose virginity is being carefully guarded by her very traditional, oppressive father the king, Josh is my man-at-arms. Who I am secretly boning.”
I’m guessing this last bit wasn’t originally part of the role she was given.
“Do they have a gallows here?” Josh asks. “Because I’m pretty sure that’s where I’m ending up.”
Anna-Marie gives him a sly look. “Probably. But I’ll totally make it worth it.”
“Don’t I know it.” Josh squeezes her to his side.
My jealousy flares some more. I normally love to see them being so, well, them, but right now it’s like a little knife in my gut.
I must show this on my face, because Anna-Marie’s smile drops. “You okay, Gabby? How’s everything been going?”
I sigh. “Not great,” I admit. “I’ll tell you all about it, but I think I need some food first.”
Anna-Marie throws her arm around my shoulders, and the three of us head to the King’s (Food) Court, leaving the infirmary behind with the sign I’d already had up, directing any needing medical assistance to see Lisa over at Lost and Found.
I intend to wait to vent until I’m halfway through a greasy, emotionally-comforting turkey leg, but I end up blurting out my problems before we’re even at the food pavilion.
“So I’d thought maybe we were getting back on track, you know?” I start. “After the sex painting went so well, and—Josh, I’m guessing you heard about the sex painting?” Josh nods, looking slightly uncomfortable—which, weird, I thought he and Anna-Marie were way too open about things like that, but whatever—and I continue on. “But now it’s back to being kind of off between us, and Sean and Audra came over a
nd Sean was an ass to Will, and that made Will get a job at Home Depot, of all places, and—”
“Wait, Sean?” Anna-Marie cuts in, her brow furrowed. “Will’s brother? And Home Depot?”
“Yeah. Sean dropped in for the world’s most awkward family barbecue,” I say, and I appreciate that neither Josh nor Anna-Marie contests this, even though they’ve been part of a family barbecue in which Josh got flashed by Anna-Marie’s cousin and Anna-Marie’s now-stepbrother revealed she was naked on the internet. “And then Will felt he needed to get part-time work, and I don’t know, Home Depot was hiring. . .” I trail off as a pre-teen boy in a velvet cape runs up to Anna-Marie and points right at her chest. I expect Josh to bristle at the kid gesturing so obviously to her breasts, but then the kid yells, “You fool! No man can kill me! Die now!” to which Anna-Marie responds, “I am no man!”
The kid grins and runs off, and Josh and Anna-Marie smile at each other before noticing the confusion on my face.
“I’m Eowyn,” she says. “From Lord of the Rings? Who kills the Witch King?”
Huh. I saw those movies a long time ago. This seems vaguely familiar.
Anna-Marie gestures to Josh. “He’s Faramir. How do you work at a Ren faire and not know this stuff? How are you friends with us and not know this stuff?”
I shrug. “Apparently you don’t need to know any more about fantasy to work at a Ren faire than you need to know about home repair to work at Home Depot.” We enter the food pavilion and are assaulted by the smells of cooking meat. “Anyway, I could tell he wasn’t super happy about this job, and I wanted to make him feel better—and me feel better, I suppose—and I tried to be cute and flirty, but he wasn’t into it.” I feel a lump in my throat, remembering his quick rebuff. “I think things are getting even worse. Maybe because of the pregnancy, but there were already problems, and . . .”
I trail off when I see Anna-Marie and Josh exchange a look, and my stomach sinks. Anna-Marie said it would be okay to talk about the pregnancy, but clearly it hurts them.
“I’m so sorry, you guys,” I say. “I shouldn’t be bringing that up, should I? It just makes things awkward, and I didn’t mean to—”
“Oh, the pregnancy?” Josh says. “No, that’s okay. And weirdly not the most awkward thing now, after that fight.” He cringes. “Which I’m sorry for. Well, the part that was my fault, anyway. Not all of it.”
I blink, looking between the two of them. Josh looks both a little abashed and a little pissy, and Anna-Marie has her hand on his back but is looking at me with obvious concern.
I’m pretty sure I’m missing something here.
“What fight?” I ask. “Are you guys fighting?” While wearing Lord of the Rings costumes and making sex-play backstories for the tournament? I guess that does sound plausible for them, but . . .
“Not us,” Anna-Marie says. “Him and Will, the other night at Ben’s.”
I blink again, staring at them. “What? Will and Josh had a fight?” And he didn’t tell me?
A singing minstrel strolls over to us, filling the brief silence with a little ditty about “two maidens fair with flowing hair” that’s clearly meant to entice us to swoon, or, at the very least, tip him. Anna-Marie glares at him like she’s about to shout “I am no man!” again and cut his head off—is that what Eowyn did to the Witch King? I can’t remember—and he closes his mouth with an audible click and scurries off.
“Sorry,” Josh says to me, his eyes darting back to Anna-Marie. “We thought Will would have said something.”
Very clearly, though, he didn’t. “What was the fight about?”
Josh runs a hand through his dark hair, and Anna-Marie fiddles with the ends of her long sleeves before answering.
“We were worried about you guys,” she says. “And we thought maybe Josh could get a sense of what was going on with Will . . .”
Because he’s not telling me, is the implied end of that thought. And maybe I should be offended at this, but the thing is, it’s obviously true. Even more true, apparently, than I had thought. My body feels cold, even out here under the heat of the summer sun.
I look back at Josh. “And did you? Get a sense of what’s going on?”
Josh shifts uncomfortably. “He didn’t want to talk about it at all. Not even to comment on you and Anna-Marie going to the sex shop, or the sex painting thing—”
“Well, that’s just Will,” I say, folding my arms. “He’s not super talkative about his sex life.” Which wasn’t a problem until I became one of the people he’s not talking with.
“Yeah, sure,” Josh says. “But he got really defensive, and finally I just asked outright if he was cheating on you. And then he said some stuff about Anna-Marie I didn’t appreciate, and—”
My jaw drops. “You guys think he’s cheating on me?”
Anna-Marie grimaces. “I honestly didn’t, when you first brought all this up,” she says. “But you know me and the cheating thing. It’s just where my mind goes.”
“And mine,” Josh says. “Hell, I asked if she thought that’s what it was before she even brought it up.” He rolls his eyes. “Because we clearly both have issues. But he did not like the implication that he might have some issues of his own, so I couldn’t really get any information out of him.”
“And we shouldn’t have tried,” Anna-Marie adds quickly. “But I didn’t want to worry you, especially when I knew that probably wasn’t it. Sorry, Gabs. We shouldn’t have interfered.”
Josh looks a little more dubious as to how bad he feels about all this, but I’m guessing that’s due to whatever Will said about Anna-Marie. Because I’m sure Will really didn’t appreciate being accused of cheating. And honestly, I’m more than a little annoyed that they put him in that spot, even if it was because they were worried about us.
But why wouldn’t Will tell me about this? I could see him not wanting to put me in the middle of a fight between him and them, but he had to know they would tell me eventually. Josh and Anna-Marie aren’t exactly the Fort Knox of gossip.
“He may not be cheating, but there’s something going on with him,” Josh says. His expression softens. “Sorry, Gabby. I know this isn’t what you want to be hearing.”
“He’s not cheating,” I say, and maybe now I’m the one who sounds defensive, but deep down I know it’s true. Will wouldn’t do that. He feels terrible enough about having had feelings for me while he was still with Sarah, even though she was actively sleeping with Ryan Lansing at the time. Despite how he views his own actions surrounding that, Will’s not a cheater.
He is, however, a guy who stayed way too long in a relationship that was making him miserable.
The chill in my blood has reached all the way to my fingertips.
“But yeah,” I say quietly. “Something is going on, and I don’t know what. I’ve tried talking with him about it, but it doesn’t seem to help.”
Anna-Marie puts her arm around my shoulders. “You guys will figure it out. It’s you and Will,” she says, like that’s reason enough to believe, despite their concerns.
I desperately want her to be right about this.
“It’s me and Will,” I say with a nod, clinging to those words. And even just saying them, trusting in them, does make my heart feel a little lighter.
She squeezes my shoulder and looks around at the various food booths. “For now, though, I think we need some food. Turkey legs again? King Arthur’s Artichokes? Merlin’s Mozzerella Sticks? Our treat.”
I doubt my worries are going to be chased away so easily, but I appreciate the offer, and, well, I am starving. By the time we’re settled in at one of the tables in the middle of the clearing, and I’m halfway through my Dragon Chop (which is basically a pork chop on a stick), I am feeling, if not exactly better, at least more determined.
Because I have an idea.
“The sex painting thing di
d go pretty great,” I say. “And we’d talked about being more adventurous . . .”
Anna-Marie raises an eyebrow and peels off a chunk of her baked artichoke. “Are we thinking we need another trip to the sex shop?”
Josh doesn’t seem unhappy about that idea; I’m guessing the S&M Wookiee thing went over well.
But I shake my head. “I’m thinking about learning a strip tease,” I say, remembering how intrigued Will had seemed by that idea. “You can teach me that, right?” I ask Anna-Marie. Because I know she’s done strip-teases for Josh before.
Anna-Marie and Josh exchange a doubtful look I don’t appreciate.
“What?” I say. “I’m not the most uncoordinated person in the world. I can take off my clothes.” I’ve never done so to music, and my dancing ability is probably a mere step above Elaine from Seinfeld, but if I could learn a routine . . .
“It’s not—” Anna-Marie starts, then shakes her head. “Is this something you actually want to do?”
I shrug. “It could be fun.” I pause. “Would I need a pole? You guys don’t have a pole, do you?”
“Sadly, no,” Anna-Marie says. She cocks an eyebrow at Josh. “Though I’d be open to getting one.”
“I wouldn’t complain about that,” Josh says around a bite of his turkey leg. He looks thoughtful. “Though there are other options, too. Like, is a pole significantly more useful than, say, one of those suspended ring things at the circus? Or a swing? Or a horizontal bar?”
“You want her doing a strip tease on a trapeze?” I ask.
“Oooh, or maybe some of those long silks,” Anna-Marie chimes in eagerly.
“Oh my god,” I say, shaking my head at them in consternation. “Are guys planning a Cirque du Soleil?”
Anna-Marie grins at Josh. “This is going to need its own room.”
Josh laughs. “If we’re building a sex Cirque du Soleil, it’s definitely getting its own room.”
I groan and take another bite of my Dragon Chop. “A room I’m staying out of.”
“Fair enough,” Anna-Marie says with a smile. “But back to you. Yeah, I can teach you a routine, but really, a lot of the sexiness of doing a strip tease comes from you wanting to do that, you know?”
