Kris kissed Korrin on the lips, smiled, and she closed the door on him. He stood, leaning against the wall for a few moments, trying to catch his bearings. Korrin did his best to smile, though it was hard now that the door was closed and Kris was gone.
She's gone forever.
He knew it with certainty. He'd never come back to Prague. He'd never see her again. For some reason, it ate at him. Their night had been almost perfect, even with all the run-ins with the law.
Maybe it's because we knew it was for one night only. We knew it couldn't last, that there would be nothing to look forward to—no tomorrow, no waking up in each other's arms. Nothing but one night together spent doing things we normally wouldn't do.
Maybe that's why it was so wonderful.
Korrin was still leaning heavily against the wall outside of Kris's room. He lifted a hand to knock, but let it drop, running his palm down the door. What would he say? What could he say that wouldn't ruin what they had?
Leave it at that. One night together. Keep that memory. Don't ruin it.
With a sigh, Korrin turned and walked down the hallway. He'd walked Kris home, chatting all the way, looking over his shoulder for anyone that might recognize them. But there were more people out now—not a lot, but some—and it was easy enough to walk and talk.
And then he'd dropped her off at her room, kissed her goodbye, and that was it. He left the building where she lived in on the edge of campus, shielding his eyes against the bright sunlight. He knew he was still drunk, so the inevitable hangover hadn't set in yet, and his mood wasn't too bad. He had a decent walk back to the van to wait for Ruslo, wherever he'd gotten off to the night before.
He started down the sidewalk. He'd been with other women before. He'd dated. Had girlfriends. But nothing had ever come close to what he had thought he had with Kris.
Does she feel the same way? Will she even remember it in the morning? Will I? But how could I ever forget her? If she does remember, it doesn't matter how she feels.
They were completely different. He was a descendant of a long line of rulers, though he'd never be one himself. She was a regular girl from the United States. Both had been pushed into positions they didn't really want. If it had been up to Korrin, he would drink and relax all day long. He wanted nothing to do with the kingdom. His father, his brother—they were the rulers. And they wanted Korrin there, alongside them, to help make decisions. Korrin didn't think he was up to it.
And there was Kris. She was smart, quick on her feet, but she was being forced into doing something she had no interest in. Just like me.
Maybe we're not so different.
He was halfway back to the bars when he heard the familiar rumbling of a vehicle on its last legs. He turned, seeing the van rolling up toward him. Ruslo was behind the wheel, and even from his place on the sidewalk, Korrin could tell he was in even worse shape than himself. Still, he sighed and climbed into the passenger side of the van.
"Why?" Ruslo asked, gunning the van even before Korrin had completely settled in and slammed the door shut.
"Why what?" Korrin asked, truly puzzled. He hadn't seen his cousin the entire night. What is he talking about?
"You just had to go and have sex in my van, didn't you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Korrin, don't lie to me. I can smell it. You. Her. Everywhere," Ruslo said, tapping his nose. "Don't you have any respect?" He took a swig of a bottle of liquor, which Korrin snatched out of his hand. Ruslo shot Korrin a dirty glare.
"You're driving."
"I have to do something to take my mind off of what happened in here last night. You know, I was going to sleep in here last night, but I decided against it. I'm glad I listened to my instincts," Ruslo said. He looked mad, bothered. Korrin looked at him hard, and then Ruslo burst up laughing. "I had you going, didn't I?"
"It's not funny," Korrin said, taking a drink from the bottle.
"So, what happened? What was she like? A freak?"
"I'm not going to talk about it," Korrin answered.
"Come on."
"No."
"Come on," Ruslo begged.
"You're acting like a little kid again, Ruslo."
"One of us has to," Ruslo said, glancing over at Korrin.
"You okay?" Korrin suddenly asked. Ruslo had always been carefree, but this was something else. "What's wrong? We were supposed to have fun last night, and by the way you look, we did."
"And now it's over," Ruslo said. He looked sad, almost reminiscent. "I think that was our last big hurrah."
Korrin considered a moment. His father was finally passing the kingdom to Kaven. Korrin would be expected to help out. Ruslo already helped out. Korrin didn't know how he did it. Korrin had always been the wild one, Kaven the calm and collected, with Ruslo bridging the gap between them, but that was all coming to an end.
"You're right," he said, taking a final drink of the bottle. It was half empty, but he suddenly didn't feel the need to finish it anymore. He capped it and set it down, letting it roll toward the back of the van where it finished with a thunk. "I met a girl last night."
"And you had sex with her."
"But it was more than that, Ruslo. There was something there."
"Are you sure it wasn't because you were drunk? She was drunk? And you guys were having a grand ol' time?"
"Yeah," Korrin said, and he knew there was more to it than that. "We had something, Ruslo. Something real."
"Doesn't matter now, I guess," Ruslo said, driving them out of town. "I had something real last night. With… uh… I forgot her name, actually. But I'll never see her again, and good riddance. Women are too much trouble to deal with. You're better off. I hope you know that much."
Korrin didn't answer for the longest time. He thought they must have driven in silence for an hour, maybe more.
Was Ruslo right? Would a girlfriend be too much to deal with? He asked himself that, but he realized that Ruslo was wrong, at least about this.
They'd had the perfect evening together. Korrin knew he would never forget it. He would never forget Kris. He smiled at that.
"What are you grinning like an idiot about?"
"We had to run from the cops," Korrin said, laughing.
"What? You gotta be kidding me!" Ruslo said, and then he was laughing—and swerving dangerously as he did so. "Grab that bottle and tell the story!"
Korrin considered. He thought about the responsibilities that would soon be falling on him, whether he wanted them or not. He thought of Kris and her own type of responsibilities. How they'd been more alike than either would have admitted.
And how he would never see her again.
Korrin got out of the seat, almost stumbling as Ruslo swerved, and grabbed the bottle. Then he walked back to the passenger seat, sat down, and took a big gulp. He passed the bottle to Ruslo and began telling him the story, his head swimming the entire time he did so. Ruslo laughed. When Korrin had finished, Ruslo asked, "So, now tell me about your night in the van."
Korrin shook his head.
"At least tell me what she looked like," Ruslo prodded. "You can do that much. Humor me."
"For what?"
"So I know what this perfect woman is like. So I can be on the lookout for someone just like her."
Korrin smiled as he described Kris. He told Ruslo about her: what she looked like, some of what they'd talked about, how he felt more connected to her than anyone else. Ruslo seemed to drink it in, listening intently.
And then, almost before Korrin realized it, they were turning off an old dirt road, cutting through the forest on an old logging road.
Suddenly, there were two bears blocking the road. Ruslo looked like he was going to gun the engine, but then he sighed and said, "God damn it. Can't get away for a couple of hours, or what?"
"You know how it is," Korrin said. "The almighty great and powerful Ruslo, disappearing in the middle of the night without a word, and the reject son of the king gone, too. What would everyone think?"
"Probably just that we got drunk and ended up lost in the woods, like usual. You know, for people like—we do get lost too often."
"We also drink too much," Korrin said, polishing off the bottle right as a knock came at Ruslo's window.
He rolled it down halfway—Korrin knew that was the furthest it would go—and said, "What?"
"The king is looking for you two. You were supposed to meet with him nearly two hours ago," a man said. Korrin peered at him. He didn't recognize the man, but then again, he was still so drunk that he could hardly see straight. In fact, he realized he might be even drunker than he was the entire night before.
"He's not happy, I assume?" Ruslo asked. The man didn't answer, so Ruslo nodded, tried to roll up the window, and then decided better of it. Slowly, they pulled off. Korrin glanced in the mirror and saw the bears were trailing behind them, going just fast enough to keep up with the van.
"So, what are you going to tell him?" Korrin asked.
Ruslo shrugged, then said, "I'll just blame it all on you. Let you take the heat."
Korrin laughed. "You owe me a bottle then."
"Fine. But just the cheap stuff, this time. The expensive stuff is getting harder and harder to get out here."
"No, no, no. You know how mad he is going to be? I'm supposed to be royalty, he'll say. I'm supposed to act like a proper Gitan. All of that kind of shit. He'll be mad for a week, at least. Imagine what the Council will be saying about it. About how useless I am."
"Yeah, you're right about that."
"And then imagine what Kaven will say."
"But you'll take the fall for me, right?"
"All my idea. That's what I'll tell everyone. And that you went with me to keep me out of trouble. I hopped in the van, half drunk, and you managed to catch up with me."
"Think your dad will believe it?"
And then they both busted up laughing, much, much harder than they should have. Both knew that they were far too old to be playing these games—lying to Korrin's father about what kind of trouble they'd gotten into. Korrin had always been the one to take the blame. After all, he was the disappointment of the family.
And Korrin hadn't minded, much.
But now, riding back to the kingdom, he realized that maybe he did mind. Maybe.
Maybe I can change. Take some responsibility.
He'd seen that Kris had done the same. She'd been forced to do things she didn't want to do, but instead of avoiding it, she'd taken it head on. Korrin, on the other hand, continued to run from what he was supposed to be.
Together, Ruslo and Korrin laughed, and laughed, and laughed.
"Just like old times," Ruslo muttered.
"Just like old times," Korrin said, but when he said it, he knew there was some sort of finality to it. Like this is the last time anything like this will ever happen.
I guess it's time to grow up, after all, Korrin thought. The van pulled into the kingdom. Whether he liked it or not, Korrin was home.