Rapunzel Untangled

  He relaxed his worried pose, now looking sympathetic. “That sucks,” he said.

  She grinned and laughed when he added his grin to hers.

  “I suppose that’s one way to put it,” she said.

  “So you just sit here, all day, all alone?” His tone was incredulous. She only nodded in answer as she moved forward into the room and the full light.

  “Whoa!” he exclaimed, seeing her hair. “I have never seen hair like that.”

  She self-consciously pulled a long strand around to the front and played idly with it as she lowered herself into the chair. He sat across from her on the sofa.

  “It’s pretty heavy to lug around all day. It’s never been cut,” she said.

  “That’s amazing.” He leaned forward. “Can I touch it?”

  She shied back for a moment, then realized he couldn’t hurt her by touching it. “Okay,” she said. He stepped around the oval table that separated them. He crouched down next to her and almost reverently reached out. Taking one thick strand between his thumb and finger he slowly pulled downward until he had nearly reached the end before letting go.

  “It’s so soft,” he murmured. She was glad she had taken the time to so thoroughly brush it before his arrival. Her eyes dropped to the patch of hair on his chin. She’d never seen facial hair before. He reached up and lightly scratched his fingers through it. “Do you think my mom’s right about shaving it?”

  She shook her head. She brought one hand halfway up. “May I?” she asked, looking at him for permission. He nodded and she touched the tips of her fingers to the bristly, wiry strands. She hadn’t felt anything like it before, rough and scratchy. She pinched a small chunk, amazed at the thickness of it. Her eyes came to his in amazement.

  He glanced up at her from beneath long, dark lashes, and her breath caught in her throat. She’d never been so close to a boy before. She’d never been so close to anyone before besides her mother. His eyes dropped to her mouth, and she unthinkingly licked her lips, remembering the kiss she had watched in the movie earlier. His eyes came back to hers, and something within their depths, something intense and hungry, sent a skitter down her spine. He slowly lifted his face toward her. The movement caused her to draw a breath. As if that broke whatever spell held them, he blinked and backed away from her. He moved back to the sofa, and she felt the loss of . . . something. She just wasn’t sure what.

  He shrugged and held out his empty hands. “I didn’t bring pizza.”

  “That’s okay.” She smiled. “It might have been kind of difficult to climb up carrying a pizza.”

  “It was kind of tough climbing up without carrying a pizza.”

  Her smile fell. “I’m sorry. I didn’t consider that. It wasn’t fair of me to—”

  “Hey,” he interrupted. “I wasn’t complaining. Just stating a fact.”

  “Oh.” She lifted the corners of her mouth temporarily, returning her gaze to the floor.

  “So . . . this is awkward, huh?” he asked.

  She shrugged, then remembered the cookies. “Oh, I made some cookies. Do you want some?”

  “I never turn down cookies.” He stood and followed her to the kitchen area. “Wow,” he said yet again. “Your hair is the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen. How long is it?”

  “I think about fifteen feet,” she said, blushing.

  “That’s gotta be some kind of record. You could probably be in the Guinness Book of World Records.”

  “That would require someone coming in to measure it, right? And that isn’t allowed. I don’t think they’d just take my word for it,” she said.

  “Oh, yeah, right.” He sat at one of the bar stools at the counter and she put the place of cookies in front of him. “So this is like, your apartment?”

  “I suppose,” she said, turning to the fridge. “Do you want something to drink?”

  “Sure, whatcha got?”

  She looked into the cold interior. “Milk, lemonade, or water.”

  “What goes better with cookies than milk?” he asked with a grin.

  She filled two glasses and sat next to him, taking a cookie.

  “These are fantastic,” he said around a mouthful of cookie. “Did you make them?”

  “I did.” She couldn’t help the flush of pride at his genuine pleasure.

  “I have to tell you,” he said, “I was pretty skeptical about coming here.”

  She didn’t know how to respond to that, so she just nodded.

  “Not because of you,” he said. She could feel the weight of his gaze, so she turned to look at him. “I couldn’t wait to finally meet you face-to-face.” She felt her cheeks heat up but held his gaze. “It’s just that I honestly didn’t believe you were who you said you were.”

  “Thought I was a creepy stalker, huh?” she teased, and he laughed, breaking the tension.

  “You’re definitely not creepy,” he said. “It remains to be seen whether you’re a stalker.”

  She laughed. “Kind of hard to stalk from my . . . tower.”

  “The girl in the tower,” he murmured. “Who woulda thunk it was the truth?”

  chapter

  *.*

  9

  .**

  After Fane finished half the plate of cookies—to Rapunzel’s amazement—he stood and looked around.

  “So, do I get the grand tour?”

  “Uh, sure.” She led him to the alcove where her computer sat.

  “Is this where you sit when we’re talking? Or chatting, or whatever you want to call it,” he asked, stepping in and looking around.

  “Yes.”

  “Cool. Now I’ll be able to picture you. Before it was like just this weird . . . void when I tried to imagine you or your surroundings.” He looked at her. “What did you picture about me?”

  Rapunzel glanced up at the second lock of hair that escaped his brushed back hair, framing his face. “Pretty much like you look now, because you look very much like your pictures. Maybe better.” He grinned knowingly and she dropped her eyes. “I guess I just picture the area where you sit as the same as mine.”

  He placed a hand against the rough stone wall and rubbed it, his hand vibrating across the uneven surface. “No rock walls in my house,” he said casually.

  “Oh.” She really didn’t know what to say to that. Was it abnormal to have walls of stone? They were only in the two alcoves. In the other rooms the walls were sheet rocked and painted. “Well, this is where I do my schoolwork.” She turned and exited the alcove. He took one more look around before following. She led him into her bedroom, and he let out a low whistle.

  “I know a lot of girls who would kill for a room like this,” he said. Rapunzel scanned the room. It felt normal to her, but since she’d never seen another room she couldn’t really compare. He walked over to the bed and ran a hand down one of the four thick posts that sat on each corner. He leaned in and peeked up at the white gauzy material that draped in a large X from corner to corner. He sat on the edge of the mattress, which he could easily do without having to hop up onto the bed as she did, and bounced up and down a few times. “Holy . . . is that your bathroom?” he asked incredulously, leaning forward. Without waiting for an answer he stood and walked into the room he spoke of, flipping on the light switch. The white marble floors and counters gleamed.

  “That sucker is huge!” he exclaimed, eyeing the sunken tub. “You could swim laps in that thing.”

  “I hardly ever use it,” she admitted. “It seems like a waste to fill it with so much water for one person. Plus, it’s much easier to wash my hair in the shower.”

  He looked at her hair again, reached out and touched a strand almost unthinkingly, then turned in a half-circle. “That’s where the magic happens, huh?” he asked, indicating the glass enclosed shower. She didn’t know what magic he meant but nodded anyway. He ran his hand along the marble countertop the length of both sinks, opening one drawer just the smallest bit before pushing it closed. His brows raised in humor at
the monogrammed towels.

  Rapunzel watched his reflection in the mirror as he circled her bathroom. He seemed curious about her space, which felt odd to her. He lived in the world where he saw all kinds of things, not shut in like her in a limited world. How could any of this be interesting?

  They exited back into the main living area. He stopped, looking around expectantly. “So, what’s upstairs?”

  “Oh,” she said, surprised he’d care about such a small room. “Just my exercise room.”

  “Cool. Can’t wait to see that.”

  Rapunzel shrugged and led the way up the narrow set of winding stairs to the small room barely large enough to contain the stationary bike, weight machine, a treadmill, and a very small patch of floor where she could stretch.

  “This is it?”

  Rapunzel shrugged again. “Yeah. It’s all I need.” Fane looked at her oddly, eyes squinted, head cocked. “What?” she finally asked.

  “This tower is huge, Rapunzel. You’re telling me that out of all the space available, this is your entire living area?”

  She looked around her at the stone walls that completely enclosed the exercise room excepting the open doorway. “Well . . . yes. Why?”

  “There are two stories below you, and three above you. If you’re stuck inside, why not give you all of it?”

  Rapunzel was stunned. She’d known there were probably two stories below, but she had no idea there was that much above.

  “Well, my mother has to have somewhere to live,” she said. “If she has those floors and the space I can see outside, it’s probably not that much more than I have.” Well, except for the three stories above me that I didn’t know about, she thought.

  Fane just stared at her mutely for long moments. Finally, he said, “You really haven’t ever been outside your room, have you?” She shook her head, now feeling embarrassed. “Rapunzel, I read your house is like, twenty or twenty-five thousand square feet I think. How big is your room? Maybe one or two thousand of that? That leaves a lot of extra house for just your mother.”

  Rapunzel’s mouth dropped. Her home was that large? She shook her head. He had to be exaggerating.

  “Haven’t you ever been curious about what’s outside your room?”

  She hadn’t questioned it, really. She’d always been told her life depended on staying in her rooms and hadn’t thought about what lay outside her door, knowing only it had the potential to be fatal to her.

  “Haven’t you ever peeked outside your door, even?” he asked. When she just stared at him, he swept past her, grabbing her hand as he did so and half dragging her back to the living area. He didn’t stop until they were at the door, his hand placed on the knob. She watched his hand with a thrill of fear lighting her belly. “Shall we?” he said.

  Swallowing over the lump in her throat, she nodded. He twisted the knob and—

  Nothing. The door was locked.

  “That’s weird,” Fane murmured. He tried twisting it again. “It doesn’t make sense,” Fane said, turning to face her. “Why would you need to be locked in? I mean, I can see why you might want to lock others out to keep yourself safe, but this . . .” He glanced at the door, trying the knob once again. “This is weird.”

  Rapunzel tried to make sense of it. She knew her mother used a key each time she left, but she assumed it was only to let herself out. Which of course didn’t make any sense because then it would reason that Rapunzel would need a key as well. A thought struck her.

  “Maybe there’s a key here,” she said.

  Fane’s face lit. He began searching around the door, running his fingers across the top of the frame. Almost immediately Rapunzel knew it was futile. She kept the place clean—sterile, actually—and knew every nook and cranny. There wasn’t any place it could be that she wouldn’t have found it.

  “Fane,” she said, tugging at his arm to pull him up from the carpet. “It’s no use. If there were a key here, I’d know it.”

  “Hmm,” he grumbled, stumped in his exploration. Suddenly he grinned. “Got a screwdriver?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Why would I have one of those?”

  Fane shrugged, thwarted in his determination. “Okay, how about some cards? I can teach you poker and corrupt your innocence.”

  Rapunzel laughed. “Cards I have.”

  They moved back toward the sofa, Fane veering toward the kitchen. “May I?” he said, indicating the bowl of apples on the counter.

  “Of course,” she said, walking over to the fridge to get another apple to replace the one he removed from the bowl. She found her deck of cards and handed them to Fane, who watched her strangely as he bit into the apple. “Something wrong?” she asked.

  “Uh . . . no.” He gave a small laugh and took the cards from the pack, shuffling them as they sat across the coffee table from one another. After discovering she didn’t have anything that satisfied Fane as usable for what he called “poker chips,” he decided to teach her a game called “Go Fish” instead.

  When he finally deemed it time for him to go home, Rapunzel felt a deep disappointment. She’d had more fun than she’d expected. It was amazing to spend time with someone besides her mother. As he swung his leg over the window ledge, she quickly said, “If you want to come back . . . sometime . . . I could make us dinner.”

  “That sounds good,” he said. “How about Sunday?”

  Rapunzel’s heart soared at the thought of having him here again so soon. She was slightly disappointed at having to wait two days.

  As he began climbing down the trellis, he suddenly popped his head back up over the ledge.

  “Hey, Rapunzel?”

  “Yes?”

  “I knew you were hot.” He grinned. Rapunzel laughed, and he scaled down. She hurried to the window and watched him anxiously until his feet safely touched the ground below. She waved. He returned the gesture and jogged to the corner of the house. He turned back and she saw the gleam of his teeth in the darkness again before he disappeared around the corner.

  chapter

  *.*

  10

  .**

  Remind me to set you up on Skype tomorrow.

  Rapunzel’s brows pulled together at his message.

  Skype?

  C’mon, you don’t know about Skype?

  Uh . . .

  We can talk by video rather than by text. Since there is no longer any secret about who you are or where you live, I’d rather talk to you face-to-face—even if it is virtually.

  Rapunzel felt worry gnaw at her. While she also would prefer to look at Fane while she spoke to him, she worried about possible ramifications.

  I’ll think about it.

  What’s to think about? Seriously, Rapunzel, after I’ve seen your hotness in person, you want me to be content NOT seeing your face?

  She knew he was just baiting her. Since he discovered how much it embarrassed her when he referred to her as hot, Fane went out of his way to do it as often as possible. She knew he didn’t mean anything real by it. Still, her heart jumped with excitement each time he did.

  Do you think your false flattery can convince me? It’s a sad, pathetic attempt.

  It would be if it didn’t work.

  Rapunzel laughed.

  You must think me a silly girl to fall for such shallow trickery.

  You’re the least silly girl I know, although one of the most amusing at the same time. You’re an enigma. A HOT enigma.

  Okay, change of subject, please.

  I have something for you.

  Oh? What?

  Sorry, it’s a secret. I could tell you but then I’d have to kill you.

  She stared at his words. Surely he was joking, but she didn’t know what to make of them.

  Oh, man, sorry again. I forget you’re a pop-culture satire virgin. It’s a saying, usually found humorous and not meant seriously at all.

  Oh. Okay. Well, that’s too bad because you could probably kill me with a kiss.

 
As soon as Rapunzel hit the send button, her hand flew to her mouth. Why did she write such a thing?

  Is that an invitation?

  Her hands shook as she saw Fane’s message. After a moment, she laughed. Of course he didn’t take her words seriously, nor did he mean his words to be serious.

  You wish.

  You have no idea. Promise me a kiss and I might tell you what I have for you.

  As tempting as your offer is, I think I can manage to restrain my curiosity until tomorrow.

  Buzzkill.

  As Rapunzel puzzled over yet another strange phrase, he suddenly typed

  So I just got a text from my friend I was supposed to hang out with tonight. There’s been a change of plans and suddenly I’m free. If you’re going to be home (hardy-har-har) I could come by tonight. If you don’t have any plans, that is.

  She stared at the screen, her face lighting with a smile.

  What is “hardy-har-har”?

  Just a cheesy way to say “ha-ha.”

  Oh. I was planning a trip to Paris, but I might be persuaded to put it off.

  Paris is overrated anyway. Late notice so I’ll bring dinner.

  How do you think you’re going to bring dinner, and my surprise, and still be able to climb my tower?

  I have my ways . . . Be there at six?

  Rapunzel looked at the clock. It was now 4:30. It could be 5:59 and it wouldn’t matter. It wasn’t like she had anything pressing or anywhere to be.

  I’ll be here.

  * * *

  Rapunzel stood at the window, holding Angel in her hand. The little bird had returned for more seeds and more neck massaging. She was glad not only for the companionship of her friend, but also for the excuse to stand at the window and watch for Fane. It was nearly 6:15, and she tried not to believe she’d been stood up. She couldn’t stop the single tear escaping and landing on Angel. Angel shook the wetness free from her feathers, bringing a reluctant smile to Rapunzel’s face.

  Suddenly Angel took flight with a high tweet. Rapunzel watched her downward flight until she disappeared around the corner of the house. A brilliant smile lit her face as she saw Fane’s dark head peek around that same corner. He looked left and right before glancing behind him. Finally his gaze found hers, and he lifted a hand in salutation.