The Brit

“This is the best day of my life!” Julien shouts, upsetting a flock of seagulls who had dared to approach the carnival on the off chance someone might drop food.

“This is the worst day of my life,” I groan. Julien inherited mom’s recklessness; I, meanwhile, got dad’s weak stomach. Well, I can only assume dad had a weak stomach because he took off when Julien and I were 5. I can only remember bits and pieces of him now. Like how he used to pick me up and heave me into the swimming pool. How he used to walk on his hands when I was sad. How he used to love me.

 “Remind me never to go on a roller coaster ever again.” I get out before my lunch of mini donuts spills onto the boardwalk.

“Cassie, we went on one ride. It wasn’t even that high!” I scowl at him. Sometimes I wish he wasn’t my brother, so I could slap him without the fear of Mom getting mad at me. I deflate onto a nearby bench and rest my head between my knees. I feel like the air is poisoning me, which isn’t out of the question, because the grease from the surrounding food booths is polluting the clean oxygen and making my head spin.

“I’m going to get you some water. Hang tight for a couple minutes.” His sneakers slap away. I sit in silence, trying not to vomit again when I hear someone walk toward me and sit on my bench. Without looking up, I say:

“Took you long enough. Did you bring my water?”

A deep voice, definitely not Julien’s, chuckles and replies: “How ‘bout you come over to my place and I’ll make you feel better.” I look up and find a pair of black eyes belonging to a lanky boy with long blonde hair. I flail for words and come up blank. This isn’t the first time a guy has hit on me, but usually whenever it happens Julien pretends he’s my boyfriend, putting his arm around my shoulders and glaring at the creep until he walks away. I doubt they really think we’re dating, because as I constantly tell Julien, gay radiates off him in sparkly waves. This time though, I’m on my own. I’m still trying to figure out how to get rid of blondie when someone comes up behind me and slips his arm around my waist.

“Something I can help you with, mate?” the stranger says smoothly. He has a faint British accent. I try not to stare too openly at the gorgeous stranger who just put his arm around me. He’s tall enough that I have peer upwards to see his face, shaded by the coal hair tumbling down his head. I’m not sure how to react to this, so I stand there awkwardly while Brit stares Blondie down. He looks at the newcomer’s arm wrapped around me and walks off, muttering under his breath. I immediately pull away from my savour. Gorgeous or not, I don’t appreciate it when strangers touch me.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” I demand, noticing as I do that his eyes are the colour of sea glass. The observation does not help my already flimsy stomach. “Sorry! It looked like you could use some help, that’s all,” he remarks, although i notice his cheeks redden slightly. I can’t think of a response to that, so I stutter for a minute.

“Please, take your time, I’m in no hurry” he grins at me, and damn, it should be illegal to look like that. I see Julien walking this way with a cup in hand. I take off toward him, not sure I can handle being around this level of attractive any longer. I hear him call out, but I’ve already grabbed Julien’s hand and begun dragging him to the car, eager to get home. As we walk to the parking lot, he tells me how he planned to come straight back to me once he got my water, but complications arose.

“On a completely unrelated note, I’m going to be unavailable Friday” he continues, unaware I’m not paying the slightest bit of attention.

The next day I risk a trip to the Fair because Julien promised he would buy me something from the gift shop, only to disappear in search for the guy he met yesterday. That left me to wander aimlessly. I’m in the middle of magnificently losing a game of ring toss, when I feel someone’s eyes on me.

“Three rings, please,” a British voice says, handing a toonie to the person tending the booth. When he’s handed the rings he comes and takes his place next to me at the ring toss.

“So this is where she comes when she’s not getting picked up by jerks.” I can hear the smile in his voice. I try not to look at him, but the temptation is too strong.

"Yes, that seems to be happening a lot lately. He ignores my pointed comment and barrels on.

“I don’t believe I caught your name last time we ran into each other, what with you sprinting away from me like your hair was on fire.”

“You can call me Your Majesty" I reply, trying to sound nonchalant.

“in that case, Your Majesty, you can call me James.” I knew it wasn’t his real name, but I didn’t care, he was talking to me, out of all the other girls here, he chose me. we talk for a while before he remembers he was late for something and runs off, like the reverse of yesterday.

I walk around for a little longer before meeting back up with Julien. He was gasping as if he had run all the way here. In between wheezes. He says:

“Cassie, I just met the hottest guy in the world! His name is Oliver and we’re meeting here again tomorrow! You need to convince mom to let us come back, pretty please!”

The next day he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet in anticipation. We wait by the mini donut stand (they’re meetup point) and I scan the crowd until Julien squeals: “That’s him!” I look around and lock eyes with none other then James. Julien runs up to him and pulls him over to where I’m standing shell-shocked.

“Well cassie? Isn’t he adorable?”

James looks between us, and I can see the wheels turning in his brain. I look at him. He looks at me, torn. He gently pulls away from Julien, but doesn’t go to me. Julien and I realize what is going on and make a decision in that moment. We turn at the same time, and walk away.