Hard Time

(Sunday Afternoon, August 11th)

"You should know," Evie hesitates, "Mal's been having a hard time learning French."

"She will," Ben nods. "It takes more than a year to learn a language." He gestures to her, "You did well in that summer French class, and I still need to speak English to you."

"Mal is falling really behind," Evie worries. "At this rate it could take years for her to understand basic French."

"So, she needs more help," Ben concludes.

Evie takes a moment, "Honestly. I don't know if Mal has the patience to put so much time and… will into something she's not good at."

Ben's frown deepens, "I'm guessing Mal wasn't born an art expert."

"No," Evie agrees. "She just has talent. It's how her brain works. She drew before she could talk. English was hard for her to. She couldn't talk until she was five."

Ben runs a hand down his face, "Okay. That's pretty bad."

"Maybe she will continue taking it for you," Evie backtracks, "but learning French is going to be just as hard for her as learning English is for you."

"Sorry." Charming walks into the room, "Am I interrupting?"

"Just eating," Ben reassures.

"That's right." Evie mentions, "The pizza is about a thousand calories. The nurse said you can ask to have it refrigerated if you need to break it up."

"Okay," Ben agrees.

She kisses his cheek, "Love you. Bye."

"Um." He watches her head out of the room, "Bye, I guess." He notices Charming's expression and frowns, "She's never done that before."

He sits down, "Is she still dating Mal?"

"Well, yeah," Ben answers.

"But you and Mal are dating again?"

Ben's eyes shift, "Yeah."

"Does that mean you and Evie are together too," he theorizes, "or is she just like Mal's consort or something?"

"What is this," Ben inquires, "the middle ages? I'm not jealous of Evie, and Evie's not jealous of me… anymore. We're friends. We both care about Mal. That's what matters."

"And you care about each other," he assumes.

"Well, yeah. Like I said, we're friends." Ben awkwardly smiles, "What? Did you come here just to ask me about my love life?"

"No." Charming clasps his hands, "Actually, I was wondering if you knew anything about a girl. Beth Fleur?"

"Yeah," Ben shakes his head. "Wasn't she one of Chad's ex-girlfriends?"

"And now they're talking again," Charming continues.

Ben pauses, "What are you hoping to get from me?"

"What do you know about this girl?"

"Nothing," Ben eyes off. "No one knows her. She kept to herself, didn't even show up to class."

"Chad thinks she got the assignments emailed to her," Charming contemplates, "but why would she do that?"

"Maybe she doesn't have the money to live on campus," he offers, before he tries to pick up the pizza; however, the crust is too soft. "Or, maybe, she's terminally ill. That's what I did last year."

"Chad did say she had an eating disorder," he relays.

"But if she is poor," Ben derails, "she wouldn't have had more than a week of in-patient treatment. It would probably just be weekly visits with a therapist and nutritionist."

The nurse walks to the doorway, "King Ben. You have thirty minutes."

"Give me an hour," Ben pleads. "I'm still figuring out how to hold this."

"Did you try to just bite into it?" she suggests.

"Bite into it?"

"Yes." She examples, "Like, if you were to bite into a person."

"Uh," Ben glances from Charming to the nurse, "I'm not good at biting."

"Slide the pizza off the plate and bite into the crust," she instructs.

"But the crust is so tall," Ben disbelieves.

"Your mouth is big enough," she reassures. "You have thirty minutes, before it gets put in the fridge. Don't worry. You'll get another chance to finish it before I call your mother." She nods to the pizza, "Well. Try it." Ben pushes the pizza towards the edge, and he bites the soft crust. "Good."

After the nurse leaves, Charming unsurely says, "Maybe I should let you eat."

"I can't eat and be interrogated at the same time?" Ben stares at the pizza, and Charming falters. "I'm not used to rising crust. The dough's made of shredded cheese, almond flour, and coconut flour. Pushing it up the sides of the pie pan was the only way she could figure out how to keep the toppings on it."

"I thought you weren't allowed to have a lot of cheese," Charming examines.

"Evie convinced the nurse that pizza is a common food and that finding a semi-healthy alternative is better than staying away from it." He smiles, "You know. Because, I will literally eat anything I see."

"Unless you're forced to," Charming finishes.

"The next time I'm craving all the pizza in the world," Ben smiles, "I get to have a quarter of the carbs." He falters, "But, uh, no. I guess, heart disease is a common risk for carnivores—especially carnivores who get the salt-ridden store-bought stuff. The grass-fed stuff from the butcher is lower in saturated fat too, but it's so expensive for the amount I'd need. Even if Mal can keep my temperature down, I could die of a heart attack at thirty-five."

"I'm sorry." Ben doesn't respond, and he questions, "Is your account still…"

"Frozen?" Ben finishes. "I started fresh. My first monthly check got deposited into my new account last week. I can't wait to get out of here and… buy my medicine with it."

"I thought you were going to say you were excited to buy a bunch of healthy meat from the butcher for Evie to cook with."

"I was," Ben breathes, "but then I realized without my medication, I wouldn't live long enough to eat any of it."

"This new account is only listed under your name," Charming reminds him. "There's no reason why your card shouldn't work."

Ben pulls more pizza to the edge, "I hope you're right."

"A hundred point one," the nurse voices. "Looks like you're free to go."

"Great," Ben grins, before he stands from the bed.

"You need someone to sign you out," she informs.

He falters, "I need to get my pills before the drug store closes, don't I?"

"The pharmacy in the lobby will close in thirty minutes." She suggests, "Call your mother, while I bring you your belongings. You will have more than enough time to get your prescription, while you wait to be signed out."

Ben nods, and after she leaves, he finds his phone. He calls his mother's number, but there's no answer. He tries again; however, the ringing is cut short, and he tries again. His father voices, "Ben. Do you need something?"

"Father?" his heartrate picks up. "Why do you have Mother's phone?"

"We're on a date." He agitates, "Do you mind?"

"No," Ben immediately answers. "Of course, not."

"Do you need something?"

"No," Ben panics. "Have a good night." He hangs up, sitting on the edge of the bed, as he takes deep, fast breaths. His parents are on a date, and he interrupted it. He kept calling, and his father must assume he had a problem with it. He clutches the edge of the bed. He does have a problem with it, and his father will know. He'd be like a third wheel—worse: a wedge between them—and he may very well get slapped for it or punched in the stomach. Whatever works.

"King Ben." He turns to the nurse, and she inquires, "You alright?"

"Yeah," Ben scratches his nose, before he walks over and takes the large Ziplock bag. "Can you close the door? I need to change."

She nods, and after the nurse leaves, Ben switches the hospital grown with the clothes he came in with. He finds his wallet in his pocket, grabs his backpack before walking out of the room, and hurries to the ground floor. He walks up to the pharmacy counter, "Ben Florian. I should have a prescription." The man nods, and Ben pulls out his phone.

When he answers, Charming addresses, "Ben?"

"Hey," he awkwardly smiles. "You're not still in town, are you?"

"No," Charming confesses. "Why? Is something wrong?"

"Wrong?" Ben rushes. "No. Nothing's wrong."

"Ben," he begins.

"I can handle it," he reassures, before he sees the pharmacist. "I got to go."

"Ben," Charming shouts.

Ben hangs up the phone, and he sees the price listed on the register before taking out his debit card. He swipes it, the screen shows it's declined, and his heart beats faster. The man suggests, "Try again." Ben swipes it again, and he places a hand to his head as his vision blurs with tears. "Your Highness." Ben turns the hand into a fist, pounds it onto the counter, and the man back away.

Ben breathes, "Give me a minute." before he wipes the tears from his face and searches his wallet. He pulls out a bill and some change, "I'm a few cents short."

"That's okay," he cautiously steps forward. He takes the remaining cents from the small, ceramic bowl. "You're paid up."

"Thank you," Ben shakily breathes, before he grabs his prescription and leaves through the glass doors. He sits on the bench and feels his warm face. Mal. She could make him feel better. He dials her number and takes a deep breath, "Hey. Mal."

"Hey," she says in surprise.

"Could you come see me?" he shakily requests.

"Are you okay?"

"Could be better," he tries to smile. "The nurse let me go, but now everything is going wrong and I'm just…"

"I'll be there," Mal reassures.

He whispers, "Thank you."

When Mal enters the lobby, Ben watches as she strides over and hugs him, placing a hand to the back of his neck. "You're warm." She notices the brown, paper bag, "Is that your new medicine?"

"I didn't even have enough to pay for it," Ben informs. "My father probably did something to my new account. I can't use the card. I had to give them all my change."

"When's your next dose?"

Ben ponders, "About now, I guess, but someone needs to sign me out. My parents… They're busy."

"What about Charming?" Mal recalls.

"It was stupid of me to call him," Ben shakes his head. "He wasn't even in town, but I know I worried him. And for what? Because, the nurse says I'm healthy? Because, my parents are on a date?" He starts to cry, "Because, I don't want to be here, I don't want to go home, and I don't have the money to just run away?"

When he sobs, she hugs him tighter, "I can get you out of here."

"Really?" Ben manages.

"Do you know what your mother's signature looks like?"

"Yeah," Ben lifts a shoulder. "I had to sign for her for ESL."

"ESL?" Mal questions.

"English as a Second Language," Ben informs. "It's a class. Kind of."

"I thought you said the school didn't know about your English problems."

"Auradon Prep didn't," Ben informs. "Maurice Elementary did." He glances down and wets his lips, "In preschool the teachers got tired of not understanding me. I was put in ESL, and we had homework—words that we needed to practice to say and know."

Mal frowns, "I'm guessing you didn't do well."

Ben's mouth cracks open, "My mom was busy." before he takes a deep breath. "But… yeah. Long story short, my parents bought the school a computer library, I made it into kindergarten, and my father told me to hide my bad English like my life…" Mal fails to finish his sentence, and he continues, "Because, it did… In more ways than one."