A Hoboken Hipster In Sherwood Forest (21 page)

"Why did you not come back for me after the crusades?" she asks. Her voice is disgustingly soft and sweet, like sugar covered with chocolate covered with honey. I secretly hope that ants show up and stream down her throat. Where are those Sherwood ants? You can never find good ants when you need them.

Robin sighs. "I did. I... saw you in the arms of another man. I thought perhaps you had forgotten me."

Marion pauses, seemingly shocked. Then she laughs. "Another man? You must have seen me with my uncle!"

What? That's the oldest excuse in the book! That's, like, what a politician says when he's sneaking his intern into a function. Robin's not going to buy it, is he?

He is.

I look around, desperate for backup. Amazingly, it seems all the merry men have vanished. I feel a nudge at my arm and turn around. It's Little John. "Come, Christian," he urges. "These two have much to talk about. Let us give them some time alone."

"What?" I cry. "You guys are just going to turn a blind eye to all of this? What about your sacred oath? No women allowed!"

John looks surprised. "She's not moving in, lad. She merely wishes a few moments with our Robin. Considering he has been suffering over the lass for near a year, I think 'tis only right for us to be understanding." He pulls on my arm. "Come. Let us take a walk. Give him a chance to win back his chosen bride."

I take one more look at the cuddly couple. They're talking softly, faces only a few inches apart. I wrench my arm from John's grasp and run into the forest, not feeling the branches as they whip at my face, my legs. All I care about is getting away.
Far, far away.

I can't believe she came back! What does she want from him? Will they fall back in love? Did he ever stop loving her in the first place?

I run and run and run until I realize I've come to the hideaway, the love nest that Robin built for us. Just looking at the structure fills me with fury and I kick and kick it until the roof gives way and collapses inward. I've destroyed the place where we shared that sweet night in each other's arms.

But that was just a lie, I remind myself. Me just fooling myself into thinking he actually loved me. That he actually cared about me.
That I wasn't second place.

Selfish bastard. I can't believe he made me pretend I was a guy all this time, made me live a lie for him. All so he could keep his job. His dignity.
And for what? When Marion showed up, his men seemed totally cool with him hooking up with her. If they only knew what a jerk he was.

I stop and look at the destroyed nest, now a blatant symbol of our shattered love. We shared so much. I told him things I haven't told anyone. And what am I left with? Nothing. Just like with Danny.

I collapse to my knees and let sobs overtake me. They wrack my body, stealing my breath. How am I going to learn to live without him? Whoever made up that bullshit about it being better to have loved and lost should get his head examined.

I hear my cell phone ring, followed by a crashing in the bushes as unseen animals flee the futuristic sound effects—they're clearly spooked by a sound they never should have heard in their short 12th-century lifetimes. Sorry, Arcade Fire. I really need to put the thing on vibrate.

I look down at the phone. At first I'm tempted not to answer. What do I have to say to Kat, anyway? Beautiful, vapid Kat who goes back in time and wins the legendary knight Lancelot without a care in the world. I bet Lance never lied to her, never cast even the remotest glance at Guenevere once she was in the picture.

But the phone keeps ringing and I realize if I don't talk to someone I'll probably go insane. So I reluctantly push the button and put the phone to my ear.

"Hello?" I croak. She's definitely going to know that I've been bawling like a baby.

"Chrissie? Is that you?" Kat's voice demands. "It doesn't sound like you. If you're some bad medieval person who stole Chrissie's phone, well, you'd better return it to her or I'll so time travel back there and kick your ass."

I start laughing. I can't help it. Kat's just so... so... well, Kat.

"No, Kat, it's me. Sorry. I've just been... I mean, I think I have allergies. Living out in the woods can wreak havoc on your sinuses."

"That doesn't sound like an allergy to me, girl," Kat says. "That sounds like you've been crying. So spill. What's going on out there in Sherwood Forest?"

Realizing she's the only person I have to talk to, I start spilling my story.
The silver arrow. The contest. The accidental "I shot the sheriff, but I did not kill his deputy" moment.

And, of course, Marion.

"That bitch!" Kat squeals over the phone, so loudly I have to pull it away from my ear for a moment. "How dare she try to steal your guy?"

"Well, honestly I don't think she has any clue he's my guy. If he even is." I shrug. "She hasn't seen him in years."

"Uh, ye-ah. 'Cause she left him. Dun. She's got absolutely no right to show up now and try to take him back. That little Sherwood slut."

"Well, I mean, I don't even know if that's her goal," I protest, not having any idea why I'm suddenly defending Marion. "She came to the camp to bring Robin the silver arrow."

"Yeah, and the kiss she never got to give him, right?"

"You're not helping."

"Sorry. You're right. I'm sure it's fine. You just have to trust your man."

"Easy for you to say. You have the most loyal knight in the history of knights. And you haven't seen how Robin looks at Marion. It's like he's some lovesick cocker spaniel."

"Are you sure? Or are you just imagining it 'cause you're being insecure?"

"I'm sure." Am I? Am I really sure? Or have I been projecting? I try to think back to Robin at the tournament. No, I've got to be right.

"Have you talked to him about it?" Kat presses. "I mean, I totally accused Lance of cheating on me with Guenevere. They went to this cottage in the woods together and everything! And, like, with medieval cheating you can't even do a condom search, you know? But it turns out he was just protecting her out of a sense of duty. He never even thought of her in that way."

"But my situation is different. Robin and Marion were lovers."

"Uh, yeah, like a billion years ago. We all have exes, Chris. Even you. How do you think you'd react if Danny showed up at the camp?"

Ugh. She's got a point. How would I act if Danny had been the arrow delivery boy? Would I immediately tell him to fuck off? Or would I want to spend a few moments alone with him to talk?

Whoever thought Kat Jones would be the voice of reason?

"You're right," I relent. "Maybe he just wants to get some closure or something, find out why she jilted him like she did. Who knows, maybe he's dying of boredom back at camp as she titters on and on. Maybe he realizes what a self-absorbed wench she was all along and doesn't remember what he used to see in her."

"Yeah. Sometimes that's all it takes," Kat says. "I know when someone dumps me, I always end up putting them on this stupid pedestal in my mind. Every time I think of them they get more god-like and grandiose. And why? Not because they were anything special. I mean, you should see the losers I dated before Lance. Can we say, 'Living at home in their parents' basement playing videogames all day 'cause they're too lazy to find employment' much? But because they rejected me, I immediately filed them in the Better Than Me category in my brain. And then, when I finally run into them again, I'm like, what the hell was I thinking? This guy's a total dork. He has no power over me."

I wonder briefly if I'll think that about Danny when I see him again. Have I built up our relationship as something more special than it was just because he betrayed me? How much did we really have together? Sure, we dated since high school, but
we barely saw each other the four years I was in college. And when we moved in together after graduation my day shift and his night shift completely conflicted.

With Danny there were no long talks, no shared emotional or intellectual ties. We had great sex and he made me laugh and together we were able to cohabitate. But did he ever take the time to know the real me? Did he even care about my hopes and dreams? Did I ever care about his?

Maybe Kat's right. Maybe it's the same with Robin. One talk with Marion and he'll realize he outgrew his childhood crush long ago. That now he wants to be with someone who he can really connect with. Who won't leave him for a jeweled necklace. What Robin and I share is special. We have long, deep discussions. We bond on a higher plane than I ever did with Danny. Surely he feels that way about me as well.

I hope.

"So, uh, I guess I shouldn't even bother asking about King Richie, then," Kat says, bringing me back to the conversation.

"Uh, oh, sorry," I apologize, realizing I've been lost in thought. "No, no sign of the guy."

"Totally lame. But okay. Well, we'll keep hanging here in the twenty-second century, I guess."

"Sorry."

"Meh, it's not all bad. I've gotten this great job as a fashion designer for this really amazing company. I'm bringing back a little twenty-first century to the masses. And trust me, they need it! These people think acid-washed jeans are the latest in couture."

I laugh. "Sounds like you've got your work cut out for you."

"You too, babe. But don't give up on Hood Boy just yet. I'm telling you. From what you say, he sounds pretty special. You don't want to let something like that go."

"Thanks, Kat," I say, almost reluctant to let her off the phone. It's so odd how this adventure has totally bonded me to a girl I used to hate. But she's different now. Or maybe I'm just finally giving her a chance.

We say our good-byes and, much cheered, I head back to camp. I can't wait to see Robin. To tell him how much I care about him. How I'm excited about our relationship and I want to make it work. How I totally understand why he'd need some closure with Marion.

But when I get back to the camp I'm dismayed to see that they are still talking.
Eesh. How much closure does this guy need? From the outskirts I watch as they whisper, nearly face to face, in low voices. Then, to my shock and horror, Marion leans forward and plants a small kiss on Robin's lips. Worse, he doesn't get mad or pull away or anything remotely smart and deserving of my love like that.

Instead, he pulls her into an embrace.

Chapter Fourteen

I stare at the two hugging figures for a second, wanting to pull out every hair in my head—or, preferably, every hair in Marion's perfect mane.

Obviously Kat was wrong about the closure thing. On the contrary, these two look like they're about to totally hook up. Maybe they made peace with each other. Maybe Marion apologized or made some stupid excuse as to why she's ignored him this past year. Maybe the dumbass actually accepted her apology.

Maybe they're back together.

Maybe Robin and I are done, forever.

Tears blur my vision and I rush back into the woods, unable to watch the scene a moment longer. I knew it! I knew he still had feelings for her. He was just using me until she came back.

I should have known this would happen the second he suggested we keep our relationship a secret. I mean, hello? He was too ashamed to even tell anyone that we were dating! That's so got to be one of the golden He's Just Not That Into You rules. If he really loved me, if he really wanted our relationship to last, he would have sung it from the rooftops like Ewan McGregor in Moulin Rouge, consequences
be damned.

Unfortunately, knowing this in my head doesn't make my stomach hurt any less.
Or my heart, for that matter. As the song says, love bites.

I run and run and run, not looking or caring where I'm going or what I'm going to do once I get there. As long as I'm away—out of proximity of the lovebirds— I'll hopefully be able to breathe again. That, in and of
itself, seems like it will be a major accomplishment at this point.

The forest thins and I step out into a darkened meadow. A full moon illuminates the landscape, casting stark, frightening shadows at every bend. I look around warily, feeling like I've just stepped into some cheesy
slasher flick. The home audience is screaming at me, begging me not to go off alone into the night. Not leave the safety of the camp, while Jason Voorhees, Freddy Kruger, Michael Myers and Leatherface all lie in wait, having joined forces to participate in my ultimate demise.

Um, yeah.
Imagination running wild, I know. But sadly it's almost more comforting at the moment to dwell on potential psycho axe-wielding killers than rerun my mental YouTube video of Marion kissing Robin for the ten-thousandth time in my brain.

I try to catch my breath, hands on my knees. What now? Where do I go? What do I do? I certainly can't go back to the camp. Not now and probably not ever. After all, it would be way too torturous to sit around and watch Robin and Marion falling deeper and deeper in love as each day passes.
To sit and listen to his trite apologies. His excuses.

It's not you
, it's me. Can't we just be friends? I need some space...

Yeah, I'd pretty much rather pull out my own toenails one by one than listen to that bullshit.