Chapter 27
twenty-seven
PARKER
“You alright?” I asked.
Feet barely on the floor, Astrid hung in my arms, eyes wide. She nodded slightly as if entranced.
“You don't look alright...”
“If I move, will we die?”
“No,” I stifled a laugh. “I think we may be stuck, but... we're not at risk of dying.”
She stood, pulling back slowly. She thought, then rushed to pull the alarm.
I braced and called, “Don’t! It will make a dreadful noise, and we'll have to hear it until they get us out. Use the emergency phone button. It will ring them.”
Nervous, Astrid rang the elevator people.
A person on the other end picked up. “Yeah?”
“Uh, hello?”
“Yes, ma’am? What?”
“Uh...” She panicked, unable to respond normally.
“I'm Princess Astrid of Neandia, and he's the Duke of Westnedge... ”
I snickered. That was what she thought of?
Yes, Astrid, give them our titles first. I am sure they will believe you and come to the rescue based on just that.
She wasn't inept, but she was having a breakdown—or a short circuit.
“Who, darlin'? Yer not makin' any sense nah,” the man said in a thick Glaswegian accent.
Astrid looked at me for advice. It dawned on me she couldn't understand anything he said. English was not her first language, and even to the English, Glasgow might as well be Babel. I stepped forward to talk into the box.
“We're trapped. There are two people...” I checked which floor we were on. “Between floors ten and eleven—going down if it matters?”
“Ya alright?”
“Yes. Quite well,” I answered.
“I'll send them to ya shortly.”
He hung up.
“What... was that person speaking English?” Astrid asked.
“That is a Glaswegian accent, Astrid. That is how people here talk.”
She looked appalled. “I live in a home with a cacophony of accents... but that is...”
“You should visit Wales... and Manchester. Both would blow your mind.”
She cocked her head. God, she could be so adorable when something confused her! Why did she make me want her so badly?
We stood at the back of the elevator, silent and awkward. I tried not to look at her in the mirror and failed. She looked sad, bursting into tears. I had a little more energy for tears but felt for her. This was horrid. It wasn't how I wanted to spend my evening, either.
“It will be okay,” I said.
She tried to hide the fact that she was crying. Her voice squeaked, “I know.”
Gone was Astrid's strength, conviction, and confidence—things that most attracted me to her. I needed to care for her even if I hated tears and struggled with emotions. I couldn’t be sore with pitiful and frightened Astrid. I wasn't soulless.
“It will be alright,” I said. “Sit. It's better if you... sit.”
Astrid sat, wrapping her arms around her legs. Her delightful little chin rested on her knees. She rocked slightly back and forth, trying to ground herself. She was claustrophobic.
“I'm... frightened,” Astrid admitted. “And.. this space.”
“I know. It's kind of small.”
“Don't do that!”
“What?” I asked.
“Your bullshit empathy.”
I recoiled. “Is it bullshit if it is empathy?”
“Is it empathy or judgement?”
“It's empathy!”
She hurt me. I was trying here—attempting to help her and care for her. Why was she so bad at accepting it?
“It wasn't. Every time I think you are being nice, Parker—every fucking time—you bring me back down with a thud. I am sick of it!”
“What?”
“I thought we were good,” Astrid said. “Starting to bond a little. And then... I felt ignored. I thought we had bonded at the dance, but you ignored me all week.”
“You ignored me!”
“Well, then there was the train.”
“The train? I apologised for that.” How much must I grovel for her to forgive me for what she assumed was malicious intent?
“I know but… you always say something. And it’s unintentional, but it makes me feel stupid!”
In the small space, her voice boomed.
“I don't believe you are stupid, Astrid. And either way, you don’t need to worry what I think.”
“I care because you are clever, and people respect you. Believe it or not, I do want to impress you. It’s stupid! I’m better at calculus and programming than you are. I don’t need you to tell me that, but I want you to! ”
I wanted to dispute it, but she was right. Objectively, Astrid was better at both those things. She was a pint-sized genius. Astrid longed to be seen and heard. She wanted praise . Her claustrophobia amplified her insecurity. Thankfully, praise for her didn’t require much thought. It poured out of me now. All I’d been holding in could be laid bare. She couldn’t escape, and I could have been braver without interlopers—tucked away from the outside world.
Astrid descended further into tears. “I’ve earned this as much as any other student, but everyone wants me to fail. My entire life, I have been told I was stupid and to keep quiet, but that's not who I am. And no Dickish Duke is going to ever, ever tell me my self-worth! I don’t even get it. You fancy me. I know you fancy me! And yet, you make me feel so small! You’d have half a chance if you just stopped acting like an asshole!”
Astounded, I stared at her, mouth agape.
“Astrid, I'm... I'm sorry if you thought that. I do admit I was probably harsh on you, but... there was a reason.”
“You are not my supervisor! It is not your job?—”
Oh, she thought I was hazing her?
“No, Astrid. Um... no. The text from Jeremy distracted me. It was awkward, and I didn't know what to say.”
Astrid cocked her head. “Um... okay? But, like, why be a dick? And that was only one instance?—”
I raised my voice, annoyed and defensive. “Astrid, if you want to fuck that guy, then do it. If you want to be a glittering fucking trophy to him, go for it. You’re one on a long, long list of conquests. He will treat you poorly as soon as he’s bored. You aren't special, either. He does it to everyone!”
“I'm... not special! A glittering trophy? Who the fuck are you, Parker Westfall? Jesus Christ!”
I said nothing. My words came from a place of insecurity. I regretted them instantly, as always when she’d gotten my ire. The difference? She couldn't run away. This was supposed to be a good thing—a silver lining where I told her all my happy thoughts and doted. Instead, she was trapped in here with my constantly fumbling arse. Astrid crawled to the corner and sobbed louder. Astrid's hyperbole would have annoyed me if not for how sad she sounded. She deflected with anger—from a place of fear. I must apologise. I must overcome these nerves!
“Astrid, I am so sorry; I didn't mean that. I... Jeremy is a knob. A dog. He treats women like utter shite.”
“Yeah, and you're so much better, Parker!?”
Ouch .
“I know you think he's good for you, but he's not. All he wants is to get laid and?—”
“Maybe that's fine!” She clapped back. “Maybe that's all I want—all I need right now? But who knows? I'm going to die in here an idiotic, sad, pathetic virgin!”
I assumed her statement had to do with my confession about the party. Why did she care? Was she just being malicious? Why did she make everything so complicated ? I fancied her. I longed for her. I thirsted about her naked in my bed more than I cared to admit, but why say it if she was going to act like this?
I grumbled, annoyed again, “You won't die in here, Astrid. I promise you. I am sorry. And you're right. It's your prerogative. If he wanted to date my sisters, I wouldn't allow it.”
She looked over. “So you're a misogynist just like you claim he is?”
The woman was good at argument. It only made me want to bring her back around more. I longed to kiss the smirk off her face.
“Oh, Astrid, please. Can we stop the arguing, competition, and loathing? I don't want it that way. If you must know, you're brilliant and annoyingly perfect—heads and tails above my performance in my first postgrad year. I am jealous, not hateful. Can you not see that?”
Astrid's scowl faded slightly, and she sat up, looking towards me.
“It's... you wouldn't get it!” She shook her head. “I can call a truce again, but you never get it.”
There was a ding, and the speaker came on.
“They're going to be round soon. Should be in the next few hours.”
Astrid erupted in more tears. This was not the night planned. I should be alone, sleeping in my bed in my big, nice suite. I should be listening to my audiobook—zenned out—not enduring the sound of a woman sobbing. And no matter how much I resented the situation, it was the sound of her sadness that upset me the most. I didn’t want this for her.