by Aubrey Rose
I returned to the bedroom I had somewhat claimed as mine—the only one with a small window that you could look out of from the top bunk. I put on another two layers of shirts, but that was all that would fit under my tight hoodie. I put on another pair of socks, and the thin gloves that had protected me through the California winter, and sweatpants over my normal jeans. My teeth still chattered and my nose ran like nothing else.
“Meow!”
“Come here, kitty,” I said, extending my hand. The kitten just sat in the middle of the doorway, watching me.
“Fine, then.” I said. I pulled two blankets off of the beds. I touched the radiator, but it was just lukewarm with water inside, probably just enough to keep the pipes from freezing. Oh well, better than nothing. I swaddled myself in blankets and leaned up next to the tepid radiator, sniffing all the while.
The kitten padded over across the room curiously. I let one finger slide out from under the blanket and his ears perked up, his thin, fuzzy tail swishing behind him. He pounced on my hand and bit my glove harmlessly.
“I’m going to call you Lucky. Is that okay, Lucky?” I petted him with my free hand, but he continued to gnaw at my finger, his back paws kicking at my arm playfully.
“Good,” I said. “Then it’s settled.”
I leaned my head back against the wall, petting Lucky as my eyelids drooped lower.
“Good kitty,” I said, and then I was asleep.
I woke up in darkness, not knowing where I was for a moment. The light from the window outside had dimmed to nothing, and the bunk beds around me loomed menacingly like monsters from a bad dream. The air was freezing cold. I blinked, my heart racing, and then I heard a faint purring from my lap. I looked down. Lucky had curled up in the crook of my arm and slept soundly, his white paws tucked under his small gray body.
“Good kitty,” I mumbled, petting him with one hand. My fingers ached with the cold, and as I stood up carefully with Lucky in my arms I felt all of my joints cry out with the same chilly ache. I put Lucky down on the bed and checked my phone, my teeth already starting to chatter. In the darkness of the room my phone shone brightly, and I could see puffs of my breath coming out over the small screen.
It was ten o’clock. I didn’t want to disturb Eliot if I didn’t have to, but at the same time I didn’t want to get hypothermia on my first day in Hungary. My muscles twitched with cold. I switched the ceiling light on and squinted in the sudden brightness.
“What should I do, Lucky?” I sat down on the bed next to him and he stretched his paws out on my lap, kneading my thigh with his tiny claws. I scratched behind his ears and he wriggled with happiness, then bit down hard my finger.
“If I have to get another tetanus shot because of you, I’m never giving you salami again,” I said.
“Meow?”
“Okay,” I said. I put down the phone in my lap and took a deep breath. When I picked it up to dial the number, my fingers were shaking, whether with cold or nerves I didn’t know. Eliot picked up on the first ring.
“Hello?”
“Um, Dr. Herceg?”
“Brynn!” His voice sounded so warm and inviting that at first I couldn’t speak. In the background, I could hear laughter and the sounds of people eating. I swallowed hard and coughed.
“Um, I’m here. Got in a few hours ago.”
“Oh, how wonderful! I can’t tell you how glad I am that you made it.” My heartstrings vibrated with his words. “How are you? Did you find the apartments alright? I haven’t been over there yet myself, still at this nonsense dinner.”
“It’s... uh, it’s really cold.”
“Much colder than California, that’s certain!”
“Um, is there—is there any way to turn the heater on?”
“Sorry, I can’t hear you. One second.” The background noises grew quieter and then I heard Eliot again. “What’s that? The heater?”
“Um, yeah. The heater isn’t on, and I—”
“The heater isn’t on? Brynn, you must be freezing? Are you still in the apartments?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“My god.” Eliot swore, and I heard him speak to someone at the party, this time in Hungarian. They talked back and forth and then Eliot was back on the line.
“Brynn, are you there?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“Stay where you are. I’ll be by as soon as I can.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I’ll be right there, don’t worry.” He paused, as though about to say something else, but then changed his mind. “See you soon.”
“See you,” I said. The phone went dark in my hand.
I patted Lucky on the head.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “We’ll be okay.”
Lucky purred contentedly.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Eliot threw down his napkin on the table.
“I have to be off,” he said.
“So soon? The party isn’t even started yet!” His brother clapped him on the back. “Eliot, I’m throwing this for your honor. The guest of honor can’t leave halfway through the party!”
“You will have to do without me,” Eliot said. “This is urgent.”
“Urgent?” His brother leaned close. “Anything I can help with?”
“No, nothing like that,” Eliot said. “Just a mix-up with the academy apartments for the interns.” He pulled his arms hastily through his coat and shrugged it over his shoulders.
“The one arriving today?” his brother asked.
“Yes.”
“The girl?”
Eliot looked up at his brother in exasperation. “I’ve told you—”
“And I saw that special look in your eye when you were talking about her.”
“No special look.”
“Eliot, why not?”
He shook his head.
“Eliot, you deserve to be happy.”
“She’s a student.”
Otto stood up and pulled his brother into a warm embrace. “Forget everything else. Really. You deserve to be happy. Eliot—”
“Yes?”
“Don’t let your head get in the way of your heart,” Otto said. He smiled and turned away, back to the other party guests.
Eliot couldn’t get his brother’s words out of his head, but there was nothing for it. He had promised not to get too close—he didn’t want to interfere with the internship and all that went with it. Brynn seemed fragile, and he shied away from reaching out to her. He didn’t want to break another fragile thing. He pushed his way across the room, past the guests who were chattering happily and dancing to the music.
Eliot froze as he looked across the room. One of the women was dancing; he could not see her face, but he knew by the way the limbs moved that it was Clare, her red hair flashing as she spun in place. His heart ached as he watched her white skin, her slender arms twirling.
“Clare,” he whispered.
“Whoops, sorry!” Another guest bumped into Eliot, almost spilling a drink on him. Eliot helped the man find his balance, and then turned back to the dance floor. The woman dancing in the middle of the crowd was not Clare, she was older, she did not look anything like Clare.
“Sorry about that,” the man said. “Say, are you alright? You’re Otto’s brother, yes?”
“I have to go,” Eliot said, and turned to leave. He looked back once more from the entryway, but he could not find the ghost he had seen dancing. Stop it, Eliot, he thought. Stop it. She is gone.
Eliot jumped into his car and drove as quickly as he could stand to until he reached the apartments. Parking in an empty space on the street, he hopped out of the car and locked it. The building looked smaller than he remembered it, less well-kept. He took the stairs two at a time and rapped his knuckles on the door.
She opened the door in front of him, and it was all he could do not to sweep her into his arms. She looked miserable, her nose red and runny, her eyes bleary with sleep. There was a blanket wrapped around h
er shoulders and she seemed to be bundled up in all manner of odd clothing. With all this, though, she still beamed when she saw him, and he felt his heart lunge forward, wanting to take her into his embrace.
“El—Dr. Herceg,” she said. “You didn’t have to come, really.”
“Of course I did,” he said, walking past her into the building and taking in the rooms with astonishment. This was where his interns were expected to live? They had added in so many beds. The rooms were cramped with furniture.
“This is absurd,” he said. “I don’t—” He stopped when he saw Brynn shivering under the blanket and realized that the room was freezing. He hadn’t noticed with the rush of adrenaline pumping through him, but now that he paused he saw his breath come out white and steamy in the air. “Brynn, you’re freezing!” He tore off his coat and pulled it around her, forgetting his promise to himself not to get too close. He simply couldn’t help it. Brynn let her blanket fall to the ground and put her arms through his coat, wrapping it around her. A fury ran through him as he rubbed her arms briskly to warm them.
“B-but,” she said, her teeth still chattering. “You’ll freeze without it.”
“Never mind me,” he said. “That damned landlady. The heat should have been on, I told her that you were coming...”
“It’s okay,” she said. “Really, it’s okay.”
She waited patiently as he dialed the landlady and paced across the floor. He heard the phone ring on the other end four, then five times before going to the answering machine. He swore and hung up. He had no way to get to the heater, no way to make things right...
“Really, Dr. Herceg,” Brynn said in a small voice. “I’ll be fine. If I can just borrow your coat, maybe, for the night.”
Eliot’s heart strained when he looked at her, so quiet and unassuming, so ready to accept whatever came her way. Something inside of him turned, decided for him.
“Come,” he said, picking up her bag. “You’ll stay with me tonight. I have an extra room.”
He expected her to protest, but she just yawned, her pink lips opening wide behind her hand.
“Okay,” she said. “Oh, wait!” She turned and fled into the other room, his large coat flapping at her knees behind her. When she came back she had something in her arms. Eliot’s eyes widened when he saw what she was carrying.
“This is Lucky,” she said, holding the kitten tightly to her heart. “Can he come along?”
Eliot drove slowly over the dark ice patches on the road, the heater running at full blast. The kitten kept pawing at his arm, as Brynn let it crawl all over her, its tiny claws digging into the coat as it tumbled over itself. It managed to clamber out of Brynn’s hands and onto Eliot’s shoulder. Eliot felt the pinpricks of the claws and then a small tongue licking at his earlobe.
“Get it off!” he cried, trying desperately not to take his eyes off of the road. The raspy tongue tickled his ear and he tensed his head to the side to avoid it.
“Sorry,” Brynn said, a giggle in her voice. “He likes you.”
“The feeling isn’t mutual,” Eliot said, grudgingly. The damn thing would give him fleas, he knew it.
“Sorry,” Brynn repeated, prying the kitten off of Eliot’s shoulder and putting it back in her lap. “Lucky, you stay here now.”
As they pulled up to the estate, Eliot heard Brynn gasp. With her sitting next to him, he saw the place as she saw it, a vast acreage of beauty. Surrounded by a fence of cypress trees, the gates in front opened up to what couldn’t be called anything but a castle. The stone walls stretched up high over the gardens below, the roofs pointed in spires.
“It’s like a fairytale,” she said, her voice wondrous. “This is where you live?”
“It’s the family estate,” he explained. “But no one has lived there for a while.”
“What about your brother?”
“He lives downtown, close to the government buildings.” Close to the women and nightlife and action. Eliot couldn’t imagine his brother anywhere rural, and this place came as close to the forests as you could get while still being inside of the city limits.
Pulling up in front of the house, Brynn pressed her nose to the window in awe. Eliot opened her door and helped her out, taking her bag out of the backseat. She nestled the kitten in her arms.
Eliot paused for a moment. “The inside isn’t cleaned up yet,” he said. “It’s been a while since anybody came over to tidy the place.”
“Are you apologizing for not cleaning up your castle?” Brynn asked teasingly. The drive over seemed to have woken her up considerably. Eliot unlocked the front door and pushed it open, inviting her in. She stepped over the threshold and looked around. The light inside was even dimmer than in the apartments. Eliot flicked a switch and the lamps illuminated the hallway. Two great staircases curved up to the second floor, and the marble floors reflected the light.
“Yeah, you should be ashamed. This castle is so messy.” Her peals of laughter echoed through the hallways.
“It is, isn’t it?” he said. The pieces of furniture looked ghostly, covered in white sheets. Cobwebs stretched out from the chandelier to the rafters.
“Just terrible,” Brynn said, a broad smile on her face. In her arms, the kitten meowed in agreement.
“Let’s go to the study,” Eliot said. “I’ll make you some tea.” He waved her upstairs, and she went obediently.
“The study?”
“It’s basically where I’ve been living the past few days,” Eliot explained. They walked down the long corridor upstairs, and Eliot turned off the light behind them. At the end of the hall, flickering light beckoned from one of the rooms.
“My study,” Eliot said, his arm spread out toward the room. Brynn’s eyes widened as she went through the doorway. It was the one room in the house that Eliot was proud of. He had built the shelves himself along the wall and lined them all with books. Leather couches and chairs made the room cozy, inviting. His oak desk sat on one end, scattered with papers. At the other end a giant stone fireplace flickered with dying light.
“It’s wonderful,” Brynn said. The kitten wriggled in her grasp, and she set him down. “Don’t go far, Lucky.” But the kitten seemed to know exactly where it wanted to go. Lucky jumped right up on a leather chair by the fire and curled up, its eyes closing sleepily. Brynn examined the shelves, her fingers running across the spines of the books. Eliot picked up two logs from the wood basket and threw them on the fire. The embers blazed up brightly, throwing new light into the room.
“Does this work?” Brynn stood over the old record player.
“Yes, the switch is on the side.”
Brynn started up the record player and laid the needle down in the outer groove. A sonatina’s notes lilted softly through the room. Brynn’s mouth turned up into a contented smile, and Eliot felt himself ache as he watched her. Then her eyes turned to his and he ducked his head, afraid that she might see the longing in his face.
“Would you like some tea?” he asked. He coughed in one hand, his eyes rising to meet hers, his shields up.
“Yes, please,” Brynn said.
“I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfortable.” He didn’t know what to do with his hands, clasping them awkwardly behind him as he exited the room. Surely she could see his discomfort, but she made no sign of noticing. It was a kindness to him, and he did not know what he would do if she were not so good. He fixed the tea quickly, fastidious about pouring the cream and laying out the sugar. Earlier in the morning he had bought a loaf of bread, and he cut and buttered some, thinking she might like a snack, thinking if there was anything else he could do for her. He carried the tray through the door to his study, almost dropping it when he saw where she was.
Brynn was standing bent over Eliot’s desk, examining his mathematical work. He inhaled sharply, tilting the tray. The teacups slid sideways and he righted it just in time. Nobody had seen his work in years, and it startled him to have someone besides himself at the desk. She looke
d up, and must have seen the look of surprise on his face.
“I’m sorry,” she said, taking a step back from his work. “I only wanted to see.”
“No, of course, it’s perfectly alright,” Eliot stammered. It was wasn’t it? Wasn’t that the whole reason he had brought her here?
Well, perhaps not the whole reason. He brought the tray to the oak desk, and set it down as carefully as he could on the corner. The kitten sat up, apparently invigorated by the sight of tea, and jumped to the floor, darting under the desk and wrapping itself around Brynn’s ankles. Brynn leaned down and picked up the kitten, cradling it in her arms.
“What does this mean?” Brynn asked, pointing to an equation Eliot had written a number of times across the page.
Eliot wiped his hand across his brow. “It’s the standard equation of a projective formula. I’ve been trying to manipulate it to be able to use it later here—” he pointed down to another equation on the page. “Do you know anything about projective algorithms?”
Brynn shook her head. “Not a clue.”
“It’s like a matrix transformation.”
“There was one of those problems on the test,” Brynn said. “I only got the first part. The second part was impossible.”
“Okay,” Eliot said, relieved to be back on stable footing. “Let’s start with that.”
The light grew red and dim as they sipped their tea and Eliot explained the basis of his work. Brynn petted the kitten in her lap and watched, occasionally asking questions or writing down notes on a scrap sheet of paper.
Eliot, in the middle of explaining one of the deeper aspects of part of his projection algorithm, looked over to find Brynn leaning on his shoulder, her eyes closed, her chest moving in the breath of deep sleep.
