That Stupid Ring

Part 5

"Don't act as if you know New Yorkers," I told him sharply.

"Okay...." he says, now looking a bit annoyed, "What is going on? Why are you in a bad mood? Are you upset because you didn't get to go to Bath? I don't think it's as fascinating as you'd expect. I brought you here so we can talk freely."

"We have nothing to talk about."

"We have plenty to talk about. For example, as of currently, I only know two things about you: you're Paris York and you come from New York," he pauses. "Actually, there are three. You also can't seem to escape my mind and I'm eager to know how you bloody did that."

What? What did he say? 

He starts grinning. "Look, I can only assume you have all these prejudgments about me. You probably assume I've done this a lot, whisk a girl from Palace tour and take her to a remote countryside. The truth is, this is the first for me. You see, I just returned from Eaton last week━"

"Eaton?"

"Eaton. That's my high school. It is an all boys boarding school."

"Ugh."

"Ugh is right. So you can guess how boring it was. Anyway, I came home yesterday, totally forgot that yesterday was a tour day and I wasn't supposed to be around. Then I saw you smoking on the balcony. I thought to myself, 'Hey, let's talk to a pretty girl for once. A girl who smokes underneath a No Smoking sign at the Buckingham Palace. She must be interesting'."

"Was there really a No Smoking sign above my head?"

"In bright red, actually," he sneers. "So I followed you to the piano room because I wanted to talk to you. But then you asked me to kiss me and things just happened. Things I have not experienced before. Great things. So now, when I think of you, I associate you with great things. Don't you think it makes sense that I really, really want to see you again?"

He's saying all the right words.

He curls his lips to show how much he begs. Those lips that remind me of our kiss at the Palace.

When his hands cup my face and his fingers ran wild in my hair.... 

Oh God, I can't do this.

"I can't do this," I tell him, "I'm leaving."

"What?" he grabs my hand, "What's going on? Are you married?"

"What? I'm like, 20 years old."

"You have a boyfriend back in New York?"

"No."

"Then what is the problem?"

"The issue is us, Will. What are we doing here?" I say, "Where will this take us?"

"You are thinking much too far ahead for a 20-year-old."

"Far ahead? I'm thinking tomorrow. My flight back to New York is tomorrow. What's going to happen then?" 

He falls silent. I take a deep breath, and after a couple of more seconds of silence, I turn my back on him and walk toward the door.

But then he said to me: 

"Look Paris, I understand your fear. I've lived my life planning and worrying about tomorrow. Be this, be that. Do this, do that. I have never met a person who acts so freely and spontaneously like what you did yesterday. For me, spontaneity is luxury and if there's someone who can teach me how to do it, it'll be you. You asking me to kiss you was exactly the kind of spontaneity I need to happen more in my life... Before it's too late."

I feel his hand touches my shoulder and I slowly turn my body to face him. We are now facing each other. Again, only one foot step apart.

"Please?" he puts his begging face again, "Let's just enjoy today. This one day. We are in a beautiful countryside. No one is here but us. There's a river behind this cottage that I really want you to see."

"Yes about that..." I say, "Where on earth are we? That car ride seemed to take forever, I fell asleep."

He smiles, "This is Nettleton. About 3 hours away from London. This place is one of my family's secret place for a quiet getaway. I've never come here with anyone but my family. You're the first."

He places his hands around my cheeks, his eyes locked into mine. 

"You're the first, Paris. Remember that," he kisses my forehead.

***