Bane

November 3, 1975

"You - you don't want to marry me?"

"Oh, God. Stupid, stupid, idiot boy," She put her fork down, and cupped his cheek with her hand. "I would love to marry you, Jon. At least, today. What about tomorrow? What in four years? What if we feel differently?"

"I don't - we're not going to."

"You're handling it a heck of a lot better than me."

Nadjia put her arm around him, and dropped her head onto his shoulder. "I know I should be mad. I am scared, Jon. Four years is a long time. You will be sixteen. I will be fifteen. It's a lot, you know?"

"Yeah." He reached for the back of his neck, and Nadjia caught his hand.

"Hug me."

"That'd be hard from where we're sitting."

Nadjia stood up, pulling him to his feet, and wrapped her arms around him. "Tomorrow is never ours, Jon. There is only today."

"You sound like my mom." Jonathan embraced her.

Nadjia rested her cheek on Jonathan's shoulder. He was taller now; taller than he was at her eleventh birthday. "Promise me nothing will change."

Jonathan was quiet; quietly projecting, predicting, trying desperately not to seem so uncertain. He shrugged a little, and rested his head over Nadjia's. "It's only four years. I'll never feel different than I feel right now, right here with you."

"Do you promise?"

Jonathan nodded. "I'm never going to stop."

Nadjia pushed Jonathan a little bit, withdrawing her arm. She sat down in the chair at the head of the table. She retrieved her fork, and cut a bite from her large chunk of cake. "The cake's good."

"It's your favorite. So is the ice cream."

"It's your birthday.

"You're alive. That's enough for me."

"...but four years, Jon."

"We've got now." Jonathan stood up. "I'm going to go and make some rounds with the other guests. Would you like to come along?"

"Sure. Let's go rub elbows with the nobles."

"We'll thank everyone for their gifts, and thank them for coming."

Nadjia could not force a smile. "...you mean let's go say our goodbyes."

Jonathan shrugged. "It's not goodbye. It's just goodbye for now."

✟ ☧ ✟

"Jonathan?" Nadjia entered his room without knocking. Jonathan sat on the edge of his bed, blank face, staring at the floor.

"Hi, beautiful."

Nadjia felt her pulse quicken. "I wanted you to have something."

"A gift for me?"

"A gift from me." Nadjia knelt at his bedside, setting her backpack at his feet .

"If this is more homework..."

"Hush, idiot boy." She rummaged through her backpack, pausing for a moment, and found what she sought. "Here it is."

Jonathan waited.

"Here, stupid." Nadjia looked up at Jonathan, her blue eyes brimming. She held her copy of The Princess Bride. The cover was flaking, creased, and the binding was split, glued, and taped heavily. Jonathan took the book from her carefully, and flipped through the pages. There were entire paragraphs highlighted, sentences underlined, and small handwritten notes in the margins. Some pages were taped in place, and along the outside edges. There was what appeared to be a diluted coffee stain in the corner of page thirty-seven. There was a highlighted line, circled in two different colored inks, and underlined in pencil.

Jonathan read it aloud. "What she liked to do, preferred above all else really, was to ride her horse and taunt the farm boy."

Nadjia blushed.

"William Goldman knows his stuff, huh?" Jonathan closed the book. "I'm taking it you're the farm boy?"

"Jonathan, cut it out!" Nadjia smacked him on the arm.

Jonathan grinned, waxing Wesley the Dread Pirate Roberts. "As you wish."

Nadjia smiled, just the faintest smile. "I have to change, and go to bed."

"Call me."

"...'Call you idiot boy, maybe. See you tomorrow?"

"Me. You. Driftwood Heights. Flea market."

"It's a date."