“Hey Jessica!”

My heart skipped a beat as I glanced up to see Brittney heading toward my table. She smiled and waved at me. Why was she talking to me? Why now—now when I was finally getting up the courage to talk to the jester!

“Hello Brittney,” I said through clenched teeth as she leaned over and started wiping down my table.

Her grin broadened. “Allan just got done with his show,” she whispered excitedly.

“Yes,” I muttered, “I know.” I was trying to peer around her to see if he was still getting food.

“Are you going to go talk to him?”

I wanted to groan aloud in frustration. “I was thinking about it Brittney.”

“Well you should do it,” she said. Straightening her posture, she turned around toward the buffet. “Hey Allan!” she called out. The jester lifted his head to look at her and I sat frozen in place. What was Brittney doing? What was she going to say? I couldn’t tell if my heart had stopped, or if it had exploded into overdrive.

As soon as the jester finished filling up his plate, he walked over to my table. He glanced at me, but then he turned his attention to Brittney. “What is it?” he asked. “Did you need something?”

“Oh no,” Brittney said, “I was just wondering if you’d met Jessica. She’s in the room next to mine.”

He glanced down at me again and smiled. I was taken aback by how tall he was. Sure, I was sitting down and he was standing, but still, he was way tall. And skinny.

“I haven’t, but it’s nice to meet you Jessica,” he said, sticking out his hand, “I’m Allan.”

“Nice to meet you too,” I whispered numbly as I shook his hand. My brain was not prepared for this interaction. I was internally screaming right now.

“We were actually talking about you the other day,” Brittney continued. I shot her a wide-eyed, panicked glance.

“Oh were you?” Allan asked with a nervous laugh. Setting down his plate of food, he took a seat. This couldn’t be happening. He was going to sit and eat at my table. I wanted to run away before Brittney could say anything more.

“Yeah,” she said, grinning mischievously as she stared at me, “Jessica was asking about why you were so pale.”

I tried to shake my head and shut Brittney up, but she went right on.

“She wanted to know if you were an albino.”

There. That was it. My life was over.

“Anyhow,” she continued flippantly, “I better get back to work. If Melissa comes in here and sees me slacking, I’ll be totally screwed.”

Allan gave a hard laugh. “Whatever,” he said. “She’d probably blame me and say that I was distracting you from your work.”

Brittney nodded. “And she’d be right.” Then she smiled at me and waved. “I’ll see you later Jessica.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, “see you.” I glared at her as she walked away.

There was a long silence. I knew that there was no way I was going to break it.

“So,” Allan finally said at last. “You were wondering if I was an albino?”

I stared down at my plate of food. “I’m so sorry,” I said, my voice hushed, “I don’t know if it’s offensive to ask someone if they are albino, or if that’s even the correct term to use and I don’t even know what Brittney was talking about and—I am just so sorry.” I couldn’t look him in the eye.

There was another awkward silence and then I heard him laugh. “Well,” he said, “I can’t speak for albinos, since I’m not one, but I can assure you, I’m not offended at all.”

I risked a glance up at him. He was smiling as he shrugged. “You’re definitely not the first person to ask,” he continued, “so I’ve gotten kind of used to it.”

“So the white hair?” I asked.

“I bleach it,” he said with another shrug. “I’ve always been crazy pale so I figured, why not weird people out more?” He leaned in closer as his voice dropped to a whisper. “To tell you the truth, I’m actually a vampire and I’ve been alive for so long that my hair’s gone white with old age.”

My eyes were wide as I stared at him. What was happening? Why was this guy being so chill, and nerdy, and talking about vampires? He was flawless.

I furrowed my eyebrows as I rested my chin in my hands. “A vampire huh?” I asked, trying to play it cool. “You couldn’t find anything better to do with immortality than learn how to juggle?”

A surprised laugh escaped his lips. “Are you making fun of my jester act?” he asked. He placed a hand over his heart with mock solemnity. “I’ll have you know that juggling is an art form.” He flashed a smile. “And it sure beats cleaning rooms all day.”

I leaned back. “How did you know that I clean rooms?”

“Your uniform,” he answered.

“Oh,” I muttered, looking down at the dingy gray dress I was wearing. What I would give to have one of the dresses the guests wore right now instead of this potato sack.

Testing my courage, I glanced back up at Allan. He looked really different up close. He was still cute, but definitely not in the stereotypical ‘hot guy’ way. His face was kind of long and thin and his smile was wide. Honestly, he looked sort of dorky, but in the most endearing way possible.

“Have you been working here long?” he said after a pause.

It was my turn to shrug. “Just about three weeks,” I said. “How about you?”

He took a bite of his food and leaned back. “I’ve worked here a couple of years now,” he said with a sigh. A crooked grin lifted the corner of his mouth. “The job market is pretty brutal for jesters these days so I don’t have a lot of options.”

I smiled. When he first sat down, I’d been so nervous I couldn’t even think. Now, just minutes later, I couldn’t believe how at ease I felt.

“So,” he said, glancing down. He shifted in his seat. “This is totally out of the blue and probably way too abrupt, but I know I’ll be kicking myself later if I don’t ask. Would you want to hang out sometime, you know, like back in the twenty first century?”

Remember all that ease I said I was feeling? Yeah, that was gone.

“What?” I blurted out.

He laughed at my shocked expression. “I was wondering if you wanted to go into town and hang out sometime, I don’t know, get dinner or something.”

“Um,” my mind was still reeling. How had this happened? This had to be a trick. This sort of thing didn’t happen to me. There was a catch, somewhere; I just wasn’t seeing it yet. “Like a date?” I asked. Hanging out was vague at best, but a date meant something.

He smiled and nodded. “Yeah, a—a date.”

Be still my beating heart. The guy I was crushing on just asked me out on a date. I could feel a panic attack happening. “When?” I asked. I think I sounded a little breathless. Also, I wondered what I looked like. I probably looked nauseous.

“Whenever you have a day off, I guess,” he answered. “I honestly haven’t given it too much thought. It’s just been fun talking to you here and I’d like a chance to talk to you some more when we’re both not exhausted after a long workday.”

I couldn’t handle this. I had to shut it down, and quick. If I didn’t shut it down, then I might start to get all sorts of carried away with my feelings. This was still too good to be true.

“I, uh—” I laughed nervously as I searched for the right words. “I’m sorry, but I’m probably not your type.” His forehead creased in confusion so I continued, my words coming out in a rush. “I’m not—I’m not the kind of girl that guys just ask on dates out of nowhere. If you could see the way I normally dress, I promise you, you wouldn’t have sat down here and started talking to me.”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Allan leaned forward. “You mean you don’t usually wear medieval peasant clothes?” he asked, feigning confusion. “You must elaborate.”

I laughed in spite of myself. “My wardrobe involves a lot of black,” I said, “and when I go into stores I can hear mothers whisper to their kids about how to not be like me.”

“So you’re a goth?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said, “if that’s the label you want to stick on it. But like I said, I don’t think I’m your type.”

He leaned back, a smile still on his face. “Well look who’s judging who,” he said. “How do you know you’re not my type? This may come as a shock to you, but I don’t actually wear this jester costume all the time.”

“That’s a shame,” I said, “because it does wonders for your complexion.”

He nodded slightly. “Thank you very much.” Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on the table. “You know, if you don’t want to go on a date, you can just tell me you don’t want to.” He laughed. “But personally, I think you should give me a chance.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine,” I said. “My next day off is in two days, but I swear you’re going to regret this.”

He looked at me in confusion. “Why would I regret it?”

“Because,” I said as I rose to my feet, “I’m going to make you take me somewhere with really good food and you’ll have to pay for me even if I order the most expensive thing on the menu.”

“It’s a deal,” he said with another laugh. As I got ready to leave, he stood up as well. “Hey, could I get your number real quick?” he asked.

I paused. “Uh, sure,” I said. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I handed it to him and he handed me his. For a few moments we were silent as we inputted our numbers to each other’s phone. When we were done, we returned them and he held out his hand. “Meet me at five in front of the main gates. It’s been a pleasure meeting you Jessi.”

I reached out and shook his hand. He’d just called me Jessi. Usually, I hated it when anyone but my family called me Jessi, but for some reason, it didn’t bother me to hear him use it. “You too,” I said at last.

***

I closed the door behind me, my mind still reeling. “What. Just. Happened?” I asked aloud.

“I believe you agreed to eat a meal with a boy dressed like a buffoon,” Greg muttered as he appeared beside my bed.

“A guy just asked me out on a date,” I answered in a daze. “A guy that I actually thought was cute came up to me and asked me out on a date.” I laughed in disbelief. “I even tried to talk him out of it and he still wanted to go!” I looked up at Greg. “That has never happened to me before.”

“I can’t imagine why not,” he replied. “With your inherent feminine charm, you should have men fighting to the death for you.”

I gave him a dirty look. “I don’t need to deal with your sass,” I said. Crossing the room, I grabbed my toothbrush and toothpaste. “I’m not getting my hopes up though,” I continued. “He’s going to be creeped out when he sees what I’m really like. This date will be a test. If he’s still interested at the end, then I can let myself hope, but only then!”

“I don’t understand what you could possibly see in that boy,” muttered Greg.

“Oh you’re just jealous,” I said as I lingered near the door. “I bet you wish you were alive so that you could take this hot stuff out on a date.” I twisted my face into the ugliest grimace I could manage.

“Gracious,” chuckled Greg, “You could frighten the demons of Hell with that face.”

I beamed. “That’s what I like to hear.”

As I stepped into the hallway, I headed down to the bathroom. When I walked in, I saw Brittney. Even though she was in the middle of brushing her teeth, she looked up at me and smiled. I frowned as I went to stand at the sink next to her.

Leaning down, she spit out the toothpaste. “I saw that you and Allan were still talking when I got off my shift,” she said as she rinsed out her toothbrush. “How did it go?”

I covered my face with my hands. “You are the worst Brittney, the absolute worst.”

She laughed and elbowed me. “You are so welcome.” Reaching out, she pulled my hands away from my face. “Are you blushing? You are! What did he say?”

I so desperately wanted to stay mad at her, but I couldn’t fight the embarrassed grin that stole across my face. “He kind of asked me out on a date.”

“Yes!” Brittney yelled. “I knew it was going to happen. You two are so weird, it’s perfect.”

I shook my head and laughed. “Weird is good, but he’s not a psycho or anything is he?”

Glancing at her reflection, Brittney pushed her tightly curled hair out of her face. “Absolutely not,” she said. “Seriously, I think he might be one of the best people I’ve ever met.” She gave me a sly grin. “But, if you really want to talk to someone about him, you should go to Melissa, the manager. He’s her son.”

My grin faded away. “What?” I asked breathlessly.

Brittney laughed at my reaction. “Yeah,” she said. “It’s funny he didn’t mention it.”

“Wow,” I muttered, “now I’m really nervous.”

“Oh don’t be,” she said with a laugh, “just make sure you talk about how great working here is and you won’t get fired!”

“Good to know,” I whispered. She laughed again as she headed to the exit.

“Goodnight Jess,” she said, “and good luck!”

“Thanks,” I mumbled. I took a deep breath and stared at my reflection. What was I getting myself into?

***

Two days later, my day off arrived. I woke up kind of nervous, but I tried to push the feeling away. After all, what did I have to be nervous about? My goal today was to frighten away the guy.

The day seemed to drag on until finally, the afternoon arrived. I could start getting ready. I began with my make-up. When the foundation was on, I started work on my eyes. I put eyeliner on, lots of it, and then I added the mascara and eye shadow. Rummaging through my make-up bag, I found my favorite shade of lipstick. It wasn’t black, but it was close. It was deep, deep purple. After the make-up was done, I took a straighter to my blonde hair. When that was finished, I parted my hair down the middle and smiled at my reflection. My face looked like Halloween had come early.

After that, I headed back to my room to get dressed. I put on a loose-fitting black shirt, along with a short, pattered black skirt. Then I put on some dark gray tights that were riddled with holes, and black combat boots. For a finishing touch, I put on a skull necklace and grabbed a cardigan in case it got cold. With a final glance down at myself, I breathed out slowly. I was ready.

“How do I look?” I asked as I twirled around to address the empty room.

Greg materialized before me. His eyes grew wide as he took in my appearance. “Were you born in my day,” he began after a long moment, “I would feel obligated to burn you at the stake for witchcraft.”

“Oh Greg!” I cried, placing a hand over my heart, “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me!”

“It’s Gréagóir,” he said, half-teasing now.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. “You’ll be with me the whole time, right?” I asked. As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized how odd they were. Had I truly grown that used to having a ghost around? “I know there’s not much you could do in a bad situation,” I said quickly, “but I would still feel better with you there in case this guy turns out to be a creep.”

Greg looked surprised. “You—you want me to come with you?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know, I feel like it would be weird if you weren’t there. You’re my backup in case things get crazy.” I shifted my weight uncomfortably. “You’re kind of like the best friend I have here. Is that too soon? Have we not reached friend status yet?”

Greg’s shadowy appearance flickered in and out. He still looked stunned. “I hadn’t really thought on it,” he said, “but I suppose we have grown somewhat close, haven’t we?”

“Yeah,” I replied, “I guess that happens when you spend every waking moment torturing someone for two weeks.”

He looked smug. “I did do that, didn’t I?”

“You sure did,” I said. “Now, are you going to haunt my date or what?”

The humor faded from his face. “My soul is bound to the sword,” he said. “I cannot go far from it.”

“Right,” I said with a frown. Crossing the room, I went to the long box and opened it. “You know, a lady can’t go on a first date without bringing something to defend herself with. Most girls settle for pepper spray, but I think a medieval sword would work too.” I stared at the long metal blade. “It would be kind of weird to carry around though,” I admitted, “so maybe I’ll just put the broken hilt in my bag. Would you be able to come along if I just had the hilt?”

Greg looked thoughtful for a moment. “I’ve never had the sword in two places at once,” he murmured. “I’m not sure what will happen, but it ought to work.”

“Alright,” I said as I plopped the sword hilt into my satchel, “I think I’m ready.”