His Royal Highness(10)
He seemed impressed. “That’s a great place to be. You’ll get experience with In Character employees, and come to think of it, managing that line might be one of the toughest jobs in the park.” He tilted his head. “It’s funny, you kind of look like her.”
It wasn’t the first time I’d heard that. It was my hair mainly, and the feline shape of my pale green eyes. While stationed at my balloon stand, a few kids in the park had mistaken me for her, but Princess Elena was always played by someone older. Beautiful. Poised. I could have played Princess Elena’s kid sister with my rounded cheeks and the constellation of freckles across my nose.
I think he confused my silence as a sign of offense because he changed the subject. “You and I will have to figure out this mentorship together. I’ve never had a mentee, and to be honest, I don’t have a lot of time in my schedule, but I’d like to try to be a resource for you if you need one.”
“I’d like that,” I said, feeling shy again all of sudden.
“We’ll meet here again in a month. Your task before then is to make a friend in the program. You’ll need someone to lean on through the next four years.”
I nibbled on my lip before asking what I thought was a simple question.
“And you don’t count?”
The question was meant in innocence. What is a mentor if not a friend? But his brows furrowed slightly as he studied me quietly. Then Heather walked back in, interrupting our meeting. Derek never answered me one way or the other, but the truth is, he was the very first friend I made that fall.
For the next month, Derek and I exchanged emails a few times a week. In each one, he’d assign me a small task: read through this article on economics and management, listen to this podcast on hospitality trends in the US, skim through and take to heart The New Gold Standard: 5 Leadership Principles for Creating a Legendary Customer Experience Courtesy of the Ritz-Carlton Hotel Company. None of the assignments were graded or anything and Derek knew the mentorship program was mostly meant to be an easy one-hour blow-off credit, but I’d complete his tasks soon after he sent them, digesting the concepts and themes as best as possible and composing thoughtful emails back to him. In some ways, I felt like Derek’s equal, which was laughable considering the cavernous gap between my position in the company and his.
His emails were always time-stamped at odd hours. 4:30 AM. 9:20 PM. 1:23 AM. I wondered if he ever slept.
All of his subsequent tasks proved easier to accomplish than the first one he’d issued.
Making friends didn’t come naturally to me, but I could be outgoing in my job. Talking to strangers while dressed up in my Fairytale Kingdom uniform never seemed all that hard. Outside of work, though, I’d slink right back into my shell. I’d never thought of myself as a loner, but before college, I always had Avery. After school and on weekends, life always seemed to revolve around her. I’d never had time to notice my lack of friends.
Now, it was at the forefront of my mind every day when I’d walk into the dorm cafeteria and realize I had no one to sit with. I had noticed another girl sitting by herself, her head bent low over a book every time I passed her by. I fantasized about waltzing up to her and introducing myself, but I never did. The idea of it nearly made me sick.
I told Derek about her in an email once. He encouraged me to talk to her; in fact, he said, “If she likes to read that much, she’d make a great friend.”
I didn’t work up the courage until a week later. Hopped up on an extra cup of caffeine, tired of spending lunch holed up in my dorm room alone, and aware that I was only a few days away from my second meeting with Derek (and wanting to make him proud), I gathered my food from the buffet line and walked directly toward the booth where the girl sat reading.
“Hi. Is this seat taken?”
Her head jerked up in surprise. Her black hair, trimmed short at the base of her chin, was set off by her fair skin. She had long front bangs straight from the ’60s and startling blue eyes—blue eyes that were staring up at me in shock.
Abort.
Run!
Like a trapped animal, I searched around me for an exit. Though the cafeteria doors were yards away, a row of windows were near enough for me to dive through at my own peril.
Then she finally spoke.
“Oh, um, no, it’s not taken.” She dragged her backpack off the table and set it down on the seat beside her. “Go for it.”
I sat down. She closed her book. There was silence so loud I started to sweat. I knew I needed to conjure up small talk, but the part of my brain capable of that function was currently screaming at me to stop being weird.
“Were you reading ahead for class?” I finally asked, nodding toward her textbook.
She seemed hesitant to admit she was.
“I have been too. Honestly, with the semester in full swing, I’m so nervous about getting behind. I’ve tried to stay on top of our assignments.”
She nodded, unveiling a small smile. “Where are you stationed in the park?”
“Elena’s Castle.”
Her brows perked up. “Really? That sounds cool. I wanted to work in the Costuming Department, but I got placed in València over near the Enchanted Forest instead. I’ve had a few shifts where I shadowed the chef or ma?tre d', but most of the time, I’m just bussing tables.”