As a slightly spoiled child - and, let us not forget, a princess - I had never really experienced being ignored. But let me tell you: there is a very big difference between enough attention and obsessive attention. You could call the latter also creepiness. Of course, only the weirdo types do this, being creepy. Wrong. Sophisticated, educated and nice people do this, too. I don't want to name names. But Daniel Johnson started to weird me out.
It started barely noticeable; he helped me into my chair. Unusual – yes; a little strange – yes; disturbing - no. Not yet.
What should have tipped me off, was him sitting next to me. A bit too close, to be honest. Yet, I thought he perhaps didn't notice. It could have been on accident. Yeah, right.
'So, Elissa, what do you like to do in your free time?'
My entire body stiffened. Did he just call me Elissa? Had he broken on of the most basic etiquette rules in the whole of Marerra? Should I say anything about it? I thought better of it. Maybe it was a one-time thing. Giving it attention would make it only more awkward.
'I quite enjoy reading, Daniel,' I responded articulately. 'And films, too, I suppose.'
'Really? What kind of movies?'
His eyes were fixed on me. They felt like headlights of an enormous truck; blinding me.
'Lots of movies, actually,' I shrugged. 'From classics to modern, independent films.' I thought it best not to mention how I could sing along with almost every Disney movie out there. This not being thought of as refined or cultivated, I kept it to myself.
'Did I tell you how good you are looking today, Elissa?' Again, it took so much of me to not flinch at the president-son's comment. My face, however, did glow warmly - in a bad way.
'Thank you.' It was very difficult to speak those words. My lips were pressed together very tightly.
Apparently Daniel didn't realise how much embarrassment he had just created. In fact, he just went on to make it even worse.
'Yes, very pretty. And I was just thinking what a shame it is that I can't show you around. I would take you to our bowling lane, but I have to go back to college.'
'Indeed. A shame.'
He had to go back to college… thank God. I imaged how uncomfortable it would have been if I had to tell him I a) couldn't go stroll around the city, and b) if I could, I wouldn't go with him.
Now I started wondering if keeping your eyes down all the time is rude. Probably. But I really, really didn't want to look back up.
Thinking about how T'Challa would react if he had sat here lifted my spirits. He would have been very polite, though at the same time he would have made it clear to the boy that he shouldn't speak to me in this manner. It would've been quite a sight.
T'Challa always was really good at getting things done without being obnoxious or rude. Considering he never liked politics, he had become really good at it.
So, what would T'Challa do?
I turned to the first lady.
'I must say, Mrs Johnson, you have prepared a truly outstanding meal.'
Mrs Johnson giggled. 'Thank you, dear.'
'Do you enjoy cooking?'
'O, yes, very much. It's just so relaxing, you know. And it makes my guys so happy. Though they wouldn't mind if I cooked the same meal every day.' She smiled lovingly at her husband and son. I swallowed.
'Mum!' Daniel exclaimed. 'You make it sound like we're a bunch of rednecks!' he was about to address mer again, but I quickly returned to the subject.
'Do you like experimenting, Mrs Johnson?'
'If I'm brave enough. The kitchen here, it's marvellous! Really, I-'
And she went on, and on. every time she stopped talking, I made sure she continued. It was a dangerous game of dodging being the centre of attention. I manged, though, and when Daniel asked me if I'd like to have some kind of tour of the white house, I told him - very politely - I was tired, and wished to go to bed.
'You handled that very well, highness,' James said softly when the dinner room was far enough away.
'Thank you,' I exhaled, releasing the tension from my shoulders. 'I can't believe the things he said. I might not be here on an official state visit, but still… does he think I'm just a friend of the family or something?'
'I think his behaviour was inappropriate - princess or not. He knows you just lost your father - should I speak to him?' There was an edge to James' voice that I had never heard before. I looked back. A tenseness had built in his face, tightening his jaw, darkening his eyes.
'Oh, no. It's all right,' I said, even though I felt a bit shaken, exactly because of the reason James had mentioned himself.
'Are you sure, highness?'
I thought about it. It sounded tempting. James was threatening enough to just go up to Daniel's door, and say whatever he had to say in a calm voice, and the boy would listen. But no, I would just have to deal with it.
'Yes. He doesn't know better. Let him be, I guess.'
When I had returned to my room and had checked my phone, I realised there was a missed call. It came from T'Challa.
'Hello,' I said in a strange accent, when T'Challa had picked up the phone. 'You called?'
'Elisa!' T'Challa sounded a bit relieved. 'I'm sorry I haven't called yet. How's America?'
'Well, you know. Like usual; the first lady tries to be some kind of replacement mum, the president is a grumpy old man, and their son tries to get me to date him.' Amused I could count down until T'Challa realised what I had said. I sat down on sofa.
'I'm sorry, El. Trying to date you?'
I bowed down to remove my shoes.
'I swear, T'Challa, he was flirting with me!'
'Come on, Elissa,' T'Challa didn't seem to believe me. 'I am sure he was just being nice, he'd know better than-'
'You don't believe me?' I huffed. 'Ask James!'
I held out the phone to James, who took it. He briefly listened (no doubt T'Challa asked him if the young Johnson had actually flirted with me), and then, with eyes on me, said: 'I'm pretty sure the boy was flirting, your Majesty.'
'I told you so!' I called out, even though I wasn't holding the phone. 'I told you!'
Even from this distance I could hear T'Challa laugh through the phone. And James also smiled. The strained manner had disappeared.
'Really,' I said, after I had the phone in my head again. 'It wasn't even subtly. You know, it all started when he called me Elissa…'
Very relived to talk to T'Challa again, and to be able to blow off some steam, I recapped the entire dinner to my friend. He listened patiently, commenting on exactly the right moments. He sounded quite amused all the way through, though there was a moment I suspected for a second that it was faked.
I felt immensely relieved when I was done. Some ridiculous small talk followed, during which I gave my impression of the president and the first lady, and T'Challa gave me some more tips for surviving the White House.
'But please, Elissa,' he said at the end, 'promise me you'll try to make it a bit fun. It's good for you to be out of the palace.'
My grin quieted to slight smile.
'Sure. Challa. Miss you.'
'I miss you too. Behave yourself,' I heard him chuckle before ending the call.
'I'll try,' I said quietly, to no one.
'I'll be retreating, James,' I announced, already halfway to the bedroom.
'Good night, highness.'
Once more I looked back when I was at the door. James seemed troubled, distracted. He smiled vaguely, though it was obvious his thoughts were somewhere far away.
'Goodnight,' I said softly, and closed the door behind me.
