With You
2494 Words
Okay. Don’t panic. People are looking at her as always, so she’s real. Anthony tried to catch his breath. No, that’s not enough proof. They were looking at her before. It didn’t prevent her from disappearing. There must be something else to prove it… yes…
He reached for his cell phone, got it out of his pocket, and took a picture of The Queen. He prayed it was a good viewable shot because God only knew how fast these four moved. He managed to hide his phone a second before The Queen and her companions reached their seats, hoping none of them had noticed him snapping the photo.
“All comfy, Miss?” The professor asked, raising his thin brows.
The Queen darted a sharp look at the professor and then, along with her companions, cracked a laugh. “Yes, I am. Thank you for asking.”
“Glad you are. Please don’t be late again … and stop the acrobats—this goes for all of you,” the professor said.
Anthony heard Maestro whisper something to The Queen. She replied in a louder voice. Anthony managed to understand only a few sentences. “I know you can, but I don’t want you to. Don’t make things harder than they already are.”
Anthony turned his head to look at her. He didn’t have any idea what he was going to say. After long seconds of awkward staring, he opened his mouth, but the words refused to come out.
The Queen arched her eyebrow, looked at her entourage, and snickered. She leaned forward to meet Anthony’s gaze. “Say something or close that mouth of yours,” she whispered.
Anthony was too lost in her eyes to care about how ridiculous he must have looked. He kept opening and closing his mouth as if he was going to say something but changed his mind at the last moment.
“Welcome back.” He managed to put two words together. “I… I mean you’ve missed a lot of classes. If you… if you need any help with that… I have everything you need.”
“You have everything I need?” The Queen repeated, her eyes mocking him.
He winced. “That wasn’t the smartest thing to say.”
“No.” She leaned back.
****
The droning voice of the professor poured over The Queen unheard. She looked around. Most of the other students were fiddling with their gadgets. For a second, she regretted not having any electronics on her; she didn’t even own a cellphone. Yet again, why would she need one? She didn’t associate with any person well enough to call, and never would. As for her companions, she had her own special means of communication with them. Mind signals.
This class is terribly boring. You couldn’t find anything better to enroll us in, Maestro? She mind-signaled him.
Berkeley has a great science program and you go and choose Egyptology, Blond stated.
Well, I apologize if everyone here does not comprehend Astrophysics as you do, Maestro replied.
Perhaps an Art class would have been a better choice, Angel said.
The Queen looked at Angel across her shoulder and smiled. Enough yammering, boys. You’re giving me a headache.
Apologies, Majesty. Blond and Maestro’s voices muttered in her head.
She looked up at the navy blue shirt and brown hair in front of her. The energy emanating from Anthony intrigued her to take a peek at his inner feelings. Thrill. Joy. Anxiety. No fear or intimidation. She narrowed her eyes. Only fascination and—
As if he felt her eyes on him, Anthony turned. A big smile dimpled his cheeks. Without any expression at all, she studied his features. Nice tan. Gray—my favorite eye color—with shades of violet in them. How eccentric! Straight nose. Her gaze lingered for a moment on his lips. She inhaled and turned her head sideways. You surely make this class less boring, Anthony. Nonetheless, you should not be feeling like this. You should not be smiling at me this way. If you knew me, you would certainly not.
“Mr. Parker,” The professor said, “would you please explain to the class what this picture represents?”
The Queen half-smiled at Anthony.
Anthony cleared his throat and looked at the slide shown. “It’s the dream Stela. It’s located between the front legs of the sphinx and it tells a story about Thutmos IV,” he said, his face smug.
“Impressive, Mr. Parker,” The professor commented. He peered at The Queen and said, “What about you, Miss… Zenden? Can you explain the story written on the Stela?”
She stared at the professor balefully.
“Majesty, if you’d like, I can—” Maestro whispered.
“It’s fine. I’ll answer the question. Remember what I told you earlier,” she whispered back. “It’s a story of a young prince and his journey to the throne,” she answered.
“Would you care to give us more details and maybe explain some symbols from the Stela?”
Her lips twisted in disapprobation. She slowly rose from her seat. “The Stela tells the story of a young prince, the future Thutmos IV, who fell asleep in the shadow of Abu-El-Hol—or the Sphinx—after a hunting expedition in the desert. In his sleep, God Harmakhis, represented by the Sphinx, appears before the young prince. He promises to raise him to the throne, in return for the prince freeing his statue from the sands.
“The King of Upper and Lower Egypt, Men-khep-eru-ra, the son of Ra, Thutmos, the appearance of appearances, beloved of Harmakhis, bestowed with life, stability and authority like Ra, eternally … that is the translation of the part you are showing in the picture, Professor.”
Silence permeated the air.
****
She wasn’t even looking at the Stela. Anthony gazed at her in awe.
“You are still staring,” she murmured to Anthony as she sat.
He blinked and shook his head as he apologized. He looked at the professor, who was adjusting his brown horn-rimmed glasses on his stunned face.
“Very good, Miss Zenden. Very good,” The professor said and cleared his throat. “I obviously underestimated you. Your answer was precise. Thank you.”
“It is Zain El-Din, Professor, not Zenden,” The Queen corrected.
“Apologies,” he said and continued with the lecture.
“You are required to write a paper of fifteen hundred words about the Eighteenth dynasty. This is not an individual research. You have been divided into groups. Each group consists of five students. The group list is right here,” The professor said, pointing to a sheet of paper attached to the bulletin board. “You can look at it after class.”
“The paper is due next Monday which means you have a whole week to finish it. The best paper will be awarded extra credits, so work hard on this one. I’ll see you next class.”
Anthony jumped from his seat and pushed his classmates aside to reach the list as fast as possible. He traced the names with his shivering finger until he found his.
“Yes!” he crowed.
He sprinted to catch The Queen before she could disappear. He spotted her in her seat. She seemed to be deliberating something with her friends.
The Queen and her companions became quiet when Anthony approached them. She turned to face him. “Now what?”
“I’m with you,” he answered with a huge grin he couldn’t hide.
“You are with me?” Her brows hooked.
“I… I mean I’m with all four of you… in the group. We are all together… in the same group.” His grin vanished.
She tightened her lips and stared at her friends, ignoring him.
Anthony stood dazzled, watching their facial expressions change every time their eyes flickered among each other.
“Can I say something?’ Anthony asked.
“No, you cannot. We do not need you in our group. Thank you,” Maestro said.
Despite Maestro’s attempt to subdue him, Anthony looked directly into The Queen’s eyes. “I know you guys don’t want anyone in your group, but like it or not there’re only four of you and each group must have five students, so if it’s not me it’ll be someone else. And since we already broke the ice, there’s no need to let someone else in. One nosy outsider is enough, don’t you think?”
The Queen tightened her lips again and tilted her head. “So there’s a brain in this pretty head of yours after all.”
She thinks I’m pretty. Anthony chuckled.
“All right, you can join our study group,” she said. “Based on how you answered today, your knowledgebase seems to be adequate.” She stared at him. “How did that happen?”
“Um… I love mythology. I studied it my whole life.”
“Why?” she asked.
“My mother used to be an Archeology professor. I picked it up from her I guess … anyway I grew up fond of all the stories and the myths, especially those of the Egyptian history. They’re the most charming of them all.”
She laughed and winked at her friends. “We shall see.”
“Her Majesty’s company is a privilege and an honor. I hope you are worthy of it,” Maestro said as he led the way to the exit, grinding each word under his teeth.
“Welcome aboard,” said Angel.
“Don’t mess it up,” Blond said.
They were almost by the door when Anthony realized they hadn’t firmed up a date to meet. “Hey… we didn’t agree on a date,” he yelled as he ran after them.
The Queen and her gang stopped.
“A date?” she asked with a harsh squint.
Chagrined because of how his words always sounded to her, he rushed to explain. “I meant for the research. When are we going to meet?”
With a probing gaze, The Queen took a step closer to him. As usual, her entourage was about to follow her lead but held back when The Queen raised her right hand to her shoulder.
Anthony stood still unaware why his body was incapable of moving; he froze, except for his lips, which were trembling, yet speechless. Maybe the reason was her dazzling perfume, or overpowering stare; maybe it was because for the first time since they had met, The Queen stood close to him without her bodyguards breathing down his neck.
“All I’m asking for is a fixed time for us to meet. I don’t know how else I can see you. You always disappear and I… can’t find you,” Anthony said.
While he anticipated her reply, he noticed a chain she was wearing. It had a golden cartouche hanging from it. He looked down at the cartouche, trying to read the hieroglyphs engraved on it. A particular one caught his interest, a woman holding the eye of Horus in her hand with rays coming out of it and people bowing to her. “Your … cartouche. What does it say?”
A crooked smile slid across her face. “So you know the history, but you don’t know your hieroglyphs?”
His lips parted, but he couldn’t think of anything to say, so he shut his mouth and lowered his chin.
“The library tomorrow at four,” she said firmly and returned to her companions.
Anthony felt the blood rush in his veins. “Thank you.” He smiled.
“By the way, the picture you took of me is a complete blur,” she said without looking at him.
He gasped.
She glanced back at him. “You can’t have something I don’t want you to have.” She climbed Maestro’s shoulders and glided away.
Anthony took his phone from his pocket and opened the picture he had captured of her. It was a complete blur as she had said. He made an odd noise in his throat and walked the other way.
Tommy was standing at the end of the hallway, talking to some people Anthony didn’t recognize.
“Hey, man, what’s up? What’s that?” Anthony asked as he noticed the pile of papers in Tommy’s hands.
“Flyers for my party,” Tommy replied.
Anthony hunched his shoulders. “I’m really sorry I didn’t help with those. But why are you giving them out now?”
“The guy who was renting the apartment cleared out his things early. Now that I get to move tomorrow, I pushed up the date for the party. It’ll be next Saturday,” Tommy replied. “Pretty cool, huh?”
“How am I the last to know?”
“Man, you’ve been kinda off lately. It’s like you’re not here, like you’re taking some kind of trip inside your head or something. You were totally checked out last weekend.”
Anthony couldn’t argue with that. “Okay. Let me help you with that.” He took some flyers. “I’ll come by to help with the arrangements later.”
“Okay,” Tommy said. “By the way, the theatre department has an open call for this year’s production. Claire is auditioning, and she wants us to come watch.”
“What? Why would she do that?”
Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed. “Maybe because she’s talented.” He shook his head. “Emma isn’t the only one who can act, you know?”
“I know that, but Emma must be in that play. It’s her major. So why on earth would Claire do anything with Emma?”
Tommy shrugged. “You should ask her.” He sighed. “I gotta run. Later, man.”
“What play is it?”
“It’s…” Tommy started down the hall, “…Antony and Cleopatra.”
- Writer
