Me, Cinderella? Part 7

"Yep, like one of your senators. He's got more money than G.o.d, and almost as much power. But I have to say he's not quite as handsome as his younger brother. Isn't that right?" The pilot winked at me, and all the red I had been willing from my face came screaming back with a vengeance.

"Back to work, Louis. Get those checks done, and I don't mean checking out the pa.s.sengers." A middle-aged woman climbed into the plane behind me, a pilot's cap in her hand. She had evidently caught the tail end of our conversation.

"Don't mind him," she said, clucking at me as she walked by and placed the cap squarely on her head. "More beans than brains in this one's head. Did he even offer you a drink?"

"I was just going to," Louis said, his face tucked in embarra.s.sment. I thought the woman was going to scold him for a second, but she just shook her head and peered around the plane.

"Well finish final check and radio up to the tower," she said. "Let's see if there's any openings to takeoff sooner rather than later." She picked up a checklist from the back of the c.o.c.kpit door and ran one finger down the list, then threw it back down onto the counter.

"Now, dearie," she said. "I'm Lori, and this is my plane to fly today. Let me know if there's anything I can do to make you comfortable."

No other pa.s.sengers came walking down the jetway, and it dawned on me as Louis finished the check that I would be the only pa.s.senger there. Lori started the plane, the jet engines coming to life with a loud roar, and we took off quickly if with a few b.u.mps. Flying in a small plane might have been scary, but sitting in a cushy oversized seat I felt like a kid on a roller coaster. When the ground below turned into tiny dots and patches, Louis came back and made sure I was okay. Both pilots made a fuss over serving me alternately over the course of the short flight, Louis out of shame that he hadn't been a better host earlier. They plied me with cakes, nuts, and a spicy goulash topped with cream that warmed my stomach.

"Mr. Herceg insisted that you taste some Hungarian food before you arrive," Louis called back from the c.o.c.kpit.

"It's for the best," Lori said. "If you tried the wrong stew first you might never eat Hungarian food again!" She laughed.

"Is it very different?" I asked.

Lori shook her head sagely.

"It's not that different, really. But if you find yourself longing for a McDonalds, don't worry, they're all over the place."

"I hope it doesn't come to that," I said, laughing.

"You're different than our normal pa.s.sengers," Lori said, looking at me curiously.

"Oh yeah?" I asked, licking the glaze off of my fingers. "How's that?"

"One bag for a suitcase. And you're young. And..." She trailed off, looking at me up and down. I realized that she thought I was a mistress!

"I'm just a student," I said, blus.h.i.+ng again. "I'm here for the math interns.h.i.+p."

"Never flown a student around in this jet before," Lori said. "And I've been working for the Hercegs for nearly a decade."

"First time for everything," I said helplessly.

She eyed me with a degree of caution, as though I might not be telling her something.

"You're a special one, aren't you?" she said. "To him."

"Who?" I asked, my wide eyes all innocence even as I hid the truth.

"You know who," Lori said, her mouth curving into a knowing smile. "The young one. The math genius."

I looked out of the window, not wanting to say a word.

"How long until we get there?" I asked. The best way I knew to change the subject.

Lori stood up. "Not soon enough for you, girl. I know the look of a woman in love."

I flushed even harder and set my mouth in a line. I wasn't going to reply to any allegations that might lead to rumors. Eliot probably had enough on his plate to deal with without that. Lori simply smiled.

"Good for him," she said, and disappeared back into the c.o.c.kpit, closing the door behind her.

The plane landed in Budapest with the sun s.h.i.+ning brightly outside. The ground stretched on below for miles, covered with a thick blanket of snow, and the horizon's mountains glittered with icy peaks. The buildings were sugared with icicles and snow, gridded by darker gray streets. As we glided to a landing, I felt a thrill of fear of the unknown pa.s.s through me. A new world, a new place to begin in. I thought it looked like paradise.

When I stepped out of the plane, I nearly froze to death.

"It's so cold!" I yelped. I jumped back into the c.o.c.kpit, nearly knocking Louis down on the stairs of the plane. I dug through my bag and found two more long sleeved s.h.i.+rts that I pulled on over me before zipping up my hoodie. Still, compared to the delicious warmth of the luxury jet, the outside air stung all the way through the layers. My nose ran and I wiped it on my sleeve. Ugh.

I waved goodbye to Lori, and Louis escorted me over to airport customs. After being ushered through a private security check, I scurried over to the curb, where a limo waited for me. The driver spoke halting English, but I understood enough to know that he was taking me to the interns.h.i.+p apartments. He had a letter for me, which I tucked next to me as I took off my outer layers. I blew on my hands, waiting for them to warm up before ripping the envelope open. Inside were two keys and a note. I held my breath as I read his handwriting.

Brynn- Right now I am attending a dinner with my brother, but will be back later this evening to check in and make sure you are comfortable in the apartments. The smaller key is for the room inside, 6b. I also have a textbook for you if you'd like to begin your studies early.

All the best, E. Herceg I ran my fingers over his signature. I'd never seen it before, and it seemed to tell me something about the kind of man he was. The elegant curls of the E, the way he underlined his name with the tail of the last letter. An easy confidence in those letters. I wished only that it had been his first name, but I no longer had the privilege of calling him that.

"Eliot," I whispered, as though the word itself were illicit.

The ride to the apartments only took a few minutes, and although I pressed my nose to the window, I could barely see anything of the new city I had landed in. High stone walls loomed over sidewalk snowdrifts, and the few people walking down the street were bundled up so much as to be unrecognizable. We rounded a corner into a neighborhood where the buildings cast shadows down onto the street, and it immediately felt like dusk had fallen. I s.h.i.+vered, looking up at the sky.

The limo stopped in front of a drab stone building three stories tall. All of the windowsills heaped high with snow, and I wrapped myself up again as best as I could before stepping out of the limo cab. It wasn't enough. The cold pierced through to my skin, and even my best boots couldn't keep out the iciness of the snow-covered sidewalk. My toes felt instantly numb.

The driver waited patiently by my side until, blus.h.i.+ng, I scrambled in my pocket for a tip. I only had American money, not having thought to transfer any at the airport, so I gave him a dollar. He tucked it into his pocket unceremoniously, got into the limo, and drove away, leaving me standing in front of the building.

"This better be the right place," I said, looking up at the apartments. Almost a week early, I would be staying by myself until the other students arrived. I didn't mind solitude, and actually looked forward to exploring Budapest on my own, but I couldn't help feeling a bit scared by the easy manner in which the limo driver had left me alone in an unfamiliar city. The street seemed dead, eerily quiet, and the top window of the building had been broken, the gla.s.s cracked in a hard, shattered star.

The wind whipped through my hoodie, and I slung my bag up over my shoulder, marching quickly up the outside stairs. The key turned in the lock, and I pushed it open, stepping inside. The door slammed shut behind me and I felt something scurry under my feet. I dropped my bag, the keys went scattering across the old wood floor, and I screamed.

The small furry creature darted behind the interior stairs, and I gasped as I threw myself backwards against the closed door behind me, knocking the wind out of my lungs. The light inside shone dimly, and I couldn't see enough to make out what it was. Maybe a rat? I shuddered. Sometimes rats would invade my Nagy's house to get at the pantry, and I hated the way their beady eyes looked knowingly at me as they scurried away with our food. Adrenaline made my heart pound.

Taking off one boot as a defensive weapon, I moved farther inside, trying to see underneath the rickety stairs. My breath still blew white-the heaters must not have gotten turned on yet, and it was almost as freezing inside as it had been outside, except for the chill of the wind. I could see the animal under the staircase, its ratty gray fur moving with its breaths. I stepped closer to the staircase, holding my boot above my head, ready to bring it down on the creature.

"Meow!"

I stopped with my boot still in my hand. A cat? Too small to be a cat. I squinted, and as I was debating what to do it poked its head out and meowed again at me. I got a good look at it-just a kitten, and a ragged one at that. It had a light gray coat, marred in places by burrs and scratches, and its whiskers trembled as it looked out at me.

I sat back and laughed, all of the tension running out of my system. A d.a.m.n kitten! My foot was beginning to turn numb from the cold, so I shoved my boot back on. I leaned forward, holding my hand out in goodwill.

"Here, kitty, kitty. Here, sweetheart."

The kitten hissed, its fur standing up on its back.

"Don't be scared." I stopped, my hand hovering in the air. My fingers got colder by the second.

The kitten's fur relaxed, but it stepped back, still wary.

"Here, kitty."

Kitty had white mittens tipping his gray coat, and a white pointed diamond on his forehead, just between his ears. It looked like a large white snowflake had landed on the middle of his head and stuck. One ear, torn and healed over, flicked from the front to the side. Both of his ears looked too big for his head.

The kitten hissed again, but this time less a.s.suredly.

For whatever reason, I was determined to make this animal my friend. He was the first native I had met in Hungary, and I wanted to make a good impression. I dug through my duffel bag until I found my sandwich. Peeling off the last piece of salami, I tossed it at the foot of the staircase. The kitty immediately perked up his ears and widened his eyes. I couldn't help but laugh again. He looked like a bat with such giant kittenish ears, the one ragged ear flicking repeatedly toward the food.

"Come on kitty," I said. "I won't hurt you." I kissed the air until he came forward from behind the staircase.

"See," I said as he sniffed the salami and began to lick it. "It's food."

He knew it was food, too. He sat down on his thin haunches and began to tear at the salami until it was shredded by his tiny teeth, clutched between his paws. He ate ravenously.

My smile turned off when I recognized the cause of the rapidity with which he ate. He was starving.

I knew what that was like. More children know starvation than you might think, but most of the other children couldn't eat because their families were poor. I knew part of that with my Nagy, once my father abandoned me to her. His wife didn't want any of her money going to feed me, and my grandmother found it hard to stay steadily employed with only her needlework and tailoring.

I had learned to turn off my appet.i.te when it was needed. When my friends and I had gone on field trips to amus.e.m.e.nt parks, I would smile and laugh and watch the other children buy ten dollar lunches, claiming I had eaten a huge breakfast and then drinking lots of water. Water would fill my stomach, swell it out so that it looked like a normal teenage girl, or approximately that. Sometimes people would be kind and offer me some of their food.

"Here, have some of my fries. I can't eat them all."

Oh, to be so full that you didn't want to eat french fries! What that must have felt like! Whenever I had the opportunity, I ate. Who knew when the next time would come? At buffets, I stuffed myself until I was overfull, and the binging way I ate ruined any chance at healthiness.

I had rituals with food, and every food had its own special way of being eaten. Cookies I would dip three at a time in a gla.s.s of milk, so that the third one had almost turned to mush by the time I got to it. Sandwiches I nibbled around the edges, saving the middle, uncrusted part, for last. Broccoli I munched the heads off of first, then sliced the stems into little cubes that I ate with a fork, like peas. Coffee I would sip even while it was burning hot, just to feel the way it trickled down my throat to my stomach and warmed me from the inside out.

Chocolate-oh, chocolate. I would smell the chocolate in my fingers, letting the warmth of my hand melt it slightly and deliver an intoxicating aroma to my nose. My tongue licked the side of the chocolate bar, tasting it first before placing it directly on the middle of my tongue, pressing it to the top of my palate and inhaling again, savoring the taste for as long as I could before it melted away. G.o.d, chocolate. Both my downfall and my salvation, chocolate could tempt angels to sin, if sin involved eighty percent or more of cacao.

Before that, though, I knew hunger for a different reason than poverty. My fake family was rich, but they starved me of love, and a single word from their lips could shrivel my appet.i.te, and did.

Now I watched the kitten lick the taste of the salami from the floor, and I wished I had more to give him.

"I'm sorry, kitty," I said, holding out a hand in apology. The kitten, tamed by his desire for food, padded quickly over to my hand and licked it questioningly. I let my fingers stroke his tiny head, his ragged ear. My thumb brushed over the snowflake pattern between his ears. A soft purring filled the s.p.a.ce between us.

"You're a lucky kitty," I said. "It's good luck I found you here." I looked up at the dimly lit stairs. "Kind of lonely here, huh?"

The kitten skidded away from me when I stood up, but he stayed close at my heels as I picked up my bag and walked through the rooms to explore. It didn't take long. The upstairs and downstairs had been built with the same layout, two rooms each, a bathroom, and a tiny kitchenette between. Each room had six bunk beds in it, two on each wall. I poked my head into the bathroom. Just a dingy shower, a sink, a toilet. One bathroom for twelve people? I shuddered.

The air in the rooms was stale and frigid, and I couldn't find any kind of thermostat for the radiators. I considered calling Eliot-I had his number-but he was probably at his dinner with his brother. I wouldn't want to interrupt. I tried to turn the stove on, thinking I might just leave the oven open for warmth. The pilot light flickered but the flames sputtered dead within a few seconds-gas must be off. I yawned. It had been a long day, and I just wanted to sleep. Dim light shone through the window, but I was exhausted from the plane rides.

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 s.h.i.+rts, 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 swis.h.i.+ng 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 teta.n.u.s 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.

"h.e.l.lo?"

"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 G.o.d." 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."