Ethan coughed self-consciously. “I forgot you’re such a thrill seeker. Can we start on something smaller?”
“Like what?”
Daphne followed his gaze and laughed as comprehension struck. “The carousel? Ethan,” she asked, “are you afraid of heights, and I never knew?”
“First of all, it’s rude to make fun of people’s phobias,” he said stiffly. “And if you must know, I’m afraid of roller coasters. They’re really high and fast, okay?”
“Says the guy who blasts around town on his motorcycle,” she noted, amused.
“I always follow the speed limit!”
“The last time you drove me, we crossed an intersection so fast I nearly flew out of my seat!”
“I did that for you!”
She fell silent, chastened. “Sorry. Let’s go do the carousel. It looks fun.”
“Okay, you don’t have to lie to me,” Ethan mumbled, but a smile curled at the edges of his lips. “I know you don’t think it’s fun.”
They passed a line of children clutching their parents’ hands. Daphne glanced over, wondering what had caused so long a queue; the sandwich-board sign read Photos with the Snow Queen! Beyond a makeshift blue curtain, Daphne saw the character: a girl around her age dressed in a white dress reminiscent of ice crystals. A smile was pasted to her face, her blond hair spilling down her back. No, she realized, that probably wasn’t the girl’s real hair.
Daphne felt a sudden moment of kinship with the Snow Queen. The people in this line didn’t care about her as a person; to them she was a living doll, a shop-window mannequin they could dress in a wig and glittery gown and pose for photos with.
It was exactly what people did to Daphne at her various meet-and-greets or walkabouts. Except, unlike Daphne, this girl got to take off the wig, walk through the front gates and back out into real life. While Daphne was trapped in the princess realm forever.
Trapped? She shook her head, confused by her own thoughts. She had chosen this life, and would choose it again.
There was no line for the carousel; most of the park’s small children were already being loaded into strollers or fed an early dinner. Daphne and Ethan had their pick of animals to perch on. She selected a bright pink elephant. Ethan shrugged and took the unicorn next to her.
As the music started up and the carousel began its slow revolution, she glanced over at him. “You’re not going back to Malaysia, are you? You’ll be at King’s College in the new year?”
“Yeah. I need to get on track with my premed requirements.”
“I didn’t realize you still wanted to do premed. I mean, I remember you used to say that in high school….”
The unicorn and elephant were bobbing up and down in apposition, so that Daphne was low while Ethan was high. It made their conversation feel slightly ridiculous. But his tone was serious as he replied, “My mom was in college, finishing her premed requirements, when she got pregnant with me. It’s why she never went to medical school.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“I don’t really talk about it,” Ethan said quietly. “I feel too guilty that she didn’t get to be a doctor because of me.”
Daphne felt a hollow ache in her chest. “You can’t carry the blame for the fact that your mom isn’t a doctor.”
“Her entire life got derailed because of an unplanned pregnancy,” he pointed out.
“Your mom loves you.” That much Daphne would stake her life on. She had only met Ethan’s mom—a high school biology teacher, which made more sense now that Daphne knew her backstory—a handful of times, but Daphne could always tell that Ms. Beckett was the nurturing type. She packed lunches with neatly trimmed carrot sticks; she helped with homework; she carved out time for her son despite being a single mom.
Daphne fumbled for the right phrasing. “What I’m trying to say is that your mom wouldn’t want you to follow her dream; she’d want you to follow yours.”
“Maybe you should take your own advice,” Ethan shot back.
Daphne recoiled, and he sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry, that was over the line. I just…I want to make sure that you’re going through all of this for the right reasons. That you want to marry Jeff for you, and not for your parents.”
It was dizzying and acutely unnerving, having someone see into her motives like that.
“I wasn’t actually one of those little girls who twirled around in tulle princess dresses,” Daphne admitted. “Believe it or not, I used to want to be a doctor, too.”
“Wait—what?”
“I had one of those plastic stethoscope sets.” Daphne wasn’t sure who had given it to her; it didn’t seem like the sort of thing her parents would have bought. “I wore it all the time, checking my teddy bear’s heartbeat. When I decided he was sick, I would feed him Goldfish and sips of water to recover.”
Ethan’s brow furrowed in concern. “It’s not too late. You could be a doctor, if you wanted.”
“Oh, definitely not! I would be a terrible doctor,” Daphne said quickly. “I just mean, dreams change. If you need to let go of yours, you should feel like you can.”
Still, Daphne couldn’t help wondering if a shred of her childhood dream still lived inside her. She had been drawn to the idea of healing people because it felt important. Doctors dealt in life and death—what stakes could possibly be higher?
Perhaps that explained the appeal of becoming a princess: she wanted to feel like the decisions she made had real impact.
“When I was a little kid, I wanted to be a pirate,” Ethan said into the silence.
Daphne recognized the statement for what it was—a peace offering.
“It’s not too late for you, either! I bet Enchanted Fiefdom is hiring,” Daphne teased.
“You just want to see me in a pirate costume, don’t you?” Ethan replied, shaking his head. “You’ve got to cool it with the dirty talk; this is a family-friendly place.”
Daphne burst out laughing. It felt nice, seeing Ethan like this—not scheming or sneaking around but simply talking. She was glad to know that they could do more than bicker with each other. They could share things; could be earnest, and playful, and fun. The way friends would be.
When the carousel drew to a stop, Daphne slid off her elephant and gave its plastic side an affectionate pat. “Want to get a pretzel? I’m starving.”
“Should we try that café down the street?” Ethan suggested.
Daphne adjusted her cat mask, then glanced back over her shoulder with a provocative wink. “Race you there.”