The Letter

“Hey, I found this outside your door.” John announced, tapping the open slab of wood.

I turned and stared at the roll of parchment (it couldn't be called paper). John waited for me to move, raised his eyebrows at me while unrolling it, and read it aloud:

“Ashlyn my love,

The time has come, and at last I can meet you again. Come soon, to the place that we first met. I will be waiting for you.”

“It’s signed: ‘Your Faery Prince.’” John sounded disbelieving, as if this was a practical joke.

“It is?” I eagerly leaned over to see the curly, messy signature.

“Do you know this guy?”

“Um... We may or may not have kissed in the moonlight…” I scratched my ear.

“You WHAT?”

I sighed.  John can be so dramatic. “Come on, I was only nineteen! We danced, and I was a victim to a handsome face. Why are you looking at me like that?” I took the letter from him and scanned over it without really seeing anything. He never said he was a prince... Fishy.
“So I take it that the faery prince part is a sort of nickname or inside joke?”

“You could take it like that, yes.”

Ashlyn,” John said warningly. “What are you not telling me?”

I looked back up at him. “You have some lint on your forehead.” I flicked it off and closed my door behind him, saying, “So! Nachos!”

“Olives should already count as vegetables, but I brought a salad anyway.” John put the bowl he was carrying on the table.

*Since I have no information on faeries this segment, here is the fantastic recipe for nachos involving olives. On an ungreased cookie sheet, spread the corn chips evenly. Then add in layers cooked ground beef, refried beans, sliced olives, salsa, and cheddar cheese. Bake in oven at 350 degrees Fahrenheit until cheese is nicely melted. Add dollops of sour cream and enjoy!

The next thing I knew, John was kneeling next to my chair with his hand on my shoulder and staring deeply into my eyes. I blinked several times and waited for him to explain his strange behavior. He slowly turned his head to one side as I raised my eyebrows. Finally he showed some sense and said something.

“Are you aware of your surroundings?” He spoke slowly and a little loud, as if we were separated by a pane of glass.

“...Yeah. We’re in my apartment, eating nachos. Are... you aware of yours?”

He started and took his hand off my shoulder. “Of course I am.”

“Then why are you asking me?”

“I wanted to make sure you were all-there.”

“What’s wrong with you, John?”

“Me? I’m fine. I didn’t just widen my eyes and stare at my chips without blinking like I was going into a trance.”

I looked at him suspiciously. John didn’t generally play tricks on me, but he could be very exasperating at times. “I think I would remember something like that.”

“Do you? You didn’t even stir when I raised my voice.” He folded his arms with the air of a police detective. “Tell me the last thing I said.”

“Um,” I thought. “You were saying how hospitals smell weird?”

“That was five minutes ago!”

“Well, I guess I must have... spaced out...” I grimaced apologetically.

John sighed, a little annoyed, but relieved that I wasn’t insane. “Ashlyn, just drink some water.”

“Sorry.” I shrunk into my chair and meekly tilted clear blue plastic cup so the water poured into my mouth. John looked at me seriously, making sure I was actually drinking.

“Okay.” He put his glass down. “If you spaced out, what were you thinking about?”

I stared at the little olive slice that had spilled on the wood table. “I can’t remember.”

John was scrutinizing my face, trying to diagnose me somehow.

“Sorry, John.” I ended up saying. “There are somethings that are hard to remember and hard to forget.”

“Hmm.” He still wasn’t sure about my sanity. You’d think he was a psychology major. “So why do you call him a faery?”

“What?”

“This prince you may or may not have kissed. Why?”

“Oh,” I laughed and lied. “Because I didn’t know his name for quite a while.”

“What?” He gave me a funny look. “Why not? Was this just a one night stand or something?”

“Sort of, but no, not really, no. He introduced himself as a faery.”

“And you just... played along?”

I shrugged, grinning. “He had purple eyes. I wasn’t going to argue.”

John laughed. “Ah, you crazy girl. I never heard you mention him before. What happened?”

“Oh, he --” I paused soberly. “I guess he lost interest. I dunno. He stopped talking to me, and... it was years ago, anyway.”

“I’m sorry.” John offered.

I shrugged.

“But you got a weird letter!” he continued in an encouraging voice. “That’s good, right? Are you going to meet him now?”

The thought hit me all at once. It was so simple. “Why should I?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s been years, John.” I scoffed. “Why would I want to meet him now?”

“...Because... you liked him?”

I patted the silly man’s cheek as I got up to put my plate in the sink. “Liked: past tense. Not interested now.”

John stared at me for a good thirty seconds with his mouth open, an expression I dearly hate. “I can’t believe you.” he said.

I scrubbed the cheese off of my plate vigorously. “Oh, please expound.”

“I don’t know anything about this guy, or what your relationship was like, but you’re not dating anyone now. If it’s only that time has passed, what is so wrong with taking a second chance? What have you got to lose?”

“Like you said,” I answered, turning around to face him with gritted teeth. “You don’t know anything about this. So why are you still talking?”

“Really?” John retorted. “That’s how you’re going to handle this? Are you going to kick me out and watch crime shows until you forget about what’s really going on in reality?”

“What reality are you talking about?” I grabbed the roll of parchment off of the counter and shook it at him. “This? You think this is real?”

“Why wouldn't it be?” John raised his voice too. “Is it just a joke?”

“Maybe it is! I have no proof that it’s real. Why should I care?” I tossed it away.

“Ashlyn!” John grabbed me by my shoulders. “Meet this guy! Find out!”

I grabbed the lapels of his shirt. “I’ll do what I want!”

“...Are you guys okay?”

We both turned to see Megan looking at us timidly. “Yeah, we’re fine. Sorry about the noise.” We said in turn, laughing and letting go of each other. Once she left, we returned to snarling.

“Stop telling me what to do!”

“Then stop running!” John growled back. “At least admit that you have an issue.”

“With what?”

“Facing and accepting what’s happening right now. Ever since I’ve met you, you’ve been living in denial of something. Man up and deal with it!”

“What do you think I’m doing now? Don’t you see?” I picked the scroll up from the floor. “I am dealing with it!” I stepped out the open door and threw it at the squirrel that I knew would be there still. “I’m saying no!”

It scampered away without getting hit. For a minute I stood there, panting in the late afternoon. John stood beside me and put his arm around my shoulders.

“You don’t have to attack little unarmed rodents.” he said, and was surprised when I hugged him.

“Thanks for trying to help me.” I said with my head buried in his shoulder.

He awkwardly patted my back. “Anytime.”