Where was all this athleticism when I was trying out for middle school soccer?
“You barely have any bruises from the last time.Just do it and it might hurt for a bit, but then you’ll be back home where there’s adequate pain management options.Or back in England where you can catch a plane home.Because planes will exist.”
I try to throw myself down the stairs one more time, but my arm shoots out to catch the railing and clutch it like it’s the last copy of a book I need for research at my university’s library, and I see another historian from the department heading for it.
“Damn it, woman!If you don’t do this, you’ll never get back, and you’ll have to wear a corset and bustle every day for the rest of your life.Although, on the bright side, I will be actual living proof that there were brown people in European history.”
Honesty compels me to finish the thought with the cons list.“Counterpoint, I won’t be around in the future to tell anyone about it, and I’ll fade into the pages of history, lucky to be a footnote like all the other people of color in the West.”
“Are you all right?”a voice asks from behind me.
A voice that startles me enough that I turn to it without realizing I’m on the edge of the steps.My right foot doesn’t find the step behind me, instead getting tangled up in my many layers.
The last thing I see before the world turns into a blur is Leo’s too-handsome face.
CHAPTER7
“Oh my god!”Leo says as my feet fly over my head and my already angry back (from all the time I spend hunched over books and my laptop) finds the sharp edge of every stair.
I try to remind myself that this is what I wanted.That it’s a good thing and this is my very painful ride back to the future (I really should watch that movie now…) but my body and underused muscles, overwhelmed with pain, don’t care to hear it.
“I’m coming!”I vaguely see his shiny shoes move rapidly down the stairs above me.
No, I have to go now.But when I get back to real life, I’m going to look up how your life went.Maybe I’ll even write a little paper about how kind you were one night to a stranger.Put flowers on your grave.
Fantasize about what could have been if I met you at a faculty party or on one of my research trips to England.
But the same blackness that overtook me the first time isn’t happening, and I keep getting flashes of the blue sky, the tan-colored building material, and Leo’s legs encased in black pants as I tumble.
And then I stop in a heap at the landing of the stairs, on my back, still very awake, and very confused.And in lots of pain.More than the first time, actually.
As I’m trying to suss out whether I succeeded in getting to the right year, Leo’s head blocks out the sun, his short curls framing his face, looking kind of like an angel since he’s backlit.
Even though he helped me yesterday, this is not a comforting sight and my heart sinks at my plan’s failure.
“Are you all right?”Leo kneels down next to me, taking my hand in his strong one and gently helping me up to a sitting position.I would appreciate the warm hand on my back much more if there wasn’t so much happening right now.
No, that’s a lie.So much is happening, but my brain is still taking the time to notice a tingle where his hand is firmly touching my back.Through layers of clothing, no less.
Horniness finds a way.
It’s not my fault; he’s looking so concerned about me while he’s touching me.It’s sweet.
“I—I’m fine.”More disappointed than hurt, even though the pain is not an insignificant factor right now.
“That was quite the fall.I heard you speaking to someone, but they must have run off.”His voice is imbued with derision over the person who abandoned me in my time of need and he drops his hands, which disappoints me more than I care to admit.
“No.Just talking to myself.”
He arches an eyebrow up in a way that makes my two eyebrows that only ever act in unison jealous.Probably because without threading, they are one.“To yourself?”
Eventually, he’s going to realize how strange I am, and he’s going to tell the palace guards I need to be locked up for the safety of the country.And that moment is going to come sooner rather than later if he thinks I’m talking to myself, but I already went with honesty, so it’s too late to backtrack now.I’ll try to mitigate instead.
“Yes,” I hiss in pain at the end of the one-word answer.And take a few more deep breathes before trying to talk more.“Just thinking out loud.Everyone’s doing it in America.Helps stimulate the brain by stimulating the body.”
“Well, they did want to leave our superior care and governance, so I would expect them to be a bit mad.”
“Yes.Completely irrational to want autonomy.Taxationwithrepresentation and all that.”As someone with the heritage of two former colonies (India and the US), I put a lot more sarcasm in there than is strictly necessary, considering my survival depends on the kindness of him and other people here.
