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ME, CINDERELLA?(51)

By:Aubrey Rose


“Oh, yes, yes, of course.” Eliot sounded distracted, and I thought I could hear the sounds of a pencil scratching on paper.

“Did you want us to come in anyway?” Mark asked.

No, I thought. I couldn’t. Tomorrow was the day I had planned to go visit the graveyard where my mother was buried.

“Hm, yes, you’re working now?”

“We’re just finishing up in the library now,” Mark said.

“Would you mind just leaving your work for me to look at tomorrow?” Eliot said. “Just leave it at the main desk. I’ll be there tomorrow morning.”

“Okay,” Mark said, a bit deflated.

“Excellent work, you two,” Eliot said. “Brynn?”

“Yes?”

“Excellent work.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“I’ll see you both later.”

“Goodbye, Dr. Herceg,” Mark said, but the line had already gone dead.

“Well,” I said. “That didn’t help us solve our problem.”

“I’m going to come in anyway tomorrow,” Mark said. “You in?”

“I… I can’t.”

“Come on, Brynn!” Mark was getting pumped up just thinking about it, I could tell. “He said our work was interesting.”

“I know,” I said. “It’s just tomorrow I had plans to go see my mom.” I began to tear up just thinking about it. For the last week and a half, I had let everything else get in the way of the real reason I was in Hungary. Guilt washed over me as I thought about all of the lame excuses I had leaned on to prevent my going.

“Oh,” Mark said. His face drew down into a serious expression. “Of course. I’m sorry, Brynn.” Mark put his arm around me and hugged me sideways.

“Hey, whatever,” I said, leaning into him. “No big deal.”

“I’ll take copious notes,” Mark said. “Whatever he says, I’ll write down, and I promise I won’t do any more work until you’re there.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I owe you.”

I always seemed to owe Mark. Especially once in college, especially after what happened at that party, I already owed Mark big time.

Last year I had dared to venture out to a party at one of the dorms on campus. I danced and drank with Shannon and had fun, really I did. But then Shannon left and I had to go to the bathroom. Somehow I ended up in the back courtyard of the dorm, where off in the bushes a group of stoners passed around a pipe. I turned to leave them alone, but as I went back through the doorway some frat guy caught me by the arm and pulled me through the open door of a dorm room.

“Hey!” I said.

“Hey, you,” the guy said. “You look like you might want to have some fun.”

“Sorry, I’m just lost,” I said, and tried to push my way out. He blocked my way with his arm and grabbed my ass with his hand. I tried to slap him off of me, but he was too strong, and as I looked up into his eyes I realized what he wanted. Opening my mouth to scream, I kicked out but he pressed his mouth down on mine, stifling the noise. His mouth tasted like beer and cigarettes, and I kicked out with my legs, unable to get out of his grip.

“Brynn?” Mark was in the doorway, his eyes wide. The frat guy loosened his grip except for one hand that still held me tight around the wrist. I tried to speak, but my mouth was so dry that all I could do was cough. Apart from a couple of classes, I didn’t really know Mark back then. We had worked together on one project for linear algebra, that was it.

Mark took in the scene quickly and must have realized what was going on. “Everybody’s waiting for you to go out.” He turned to the frat guy, whose eyes were glazed with alcohol and hate. “Come on.”

“Okay, yeah, let’s go,” I said, but the guy didn’t let me go.

“We were just having some fun,” the guy said. He started to close the door, but Mark stepped forward and blocked the door with his foot.

“Her friends are waiting,” he said firmly. The guy looked at him like he wanted to kill him, and he probably could have. He stood at least a foot taller than Mark, and his arms felt like pure muscle, the way his hand circled my wrist like iron shackles. I could tell Mark was scared, but he stood fast.

“Let me go!” I cried out finally, and the guy shoved me out the door and into Mark.

“Fatass bitch,” he mumbled.

“What did you say?” Mark stepped between me and the guy.

“It’s okay, Mark, let’s go.” I pulled frantically on his arm. The party—and safety—beckoned just down the hallway. “Please, let’s just get out of here.”