The Explorer's Apprentice

23:Two of a Kind

Arabelle D’Ewes

Belle swings her feet beneath the bench girlishly. All she can think about is him. The boy with the turquoise eyes. Jack. Jack Dawson. “You know, Rose, I’ve never felt this way about anyone else.”  She’s talking a mile a minute, she knows, and blushing violently all the while. She even considers unpinning her hair—letting loose those curls to blow flirtatiously and freely in the sea breeze—but decides against it. No need to go completely crazy.

“Mm-hmm.”

“He’s truly amazing, Rose! So sweet! Such a gentleman! You just have to meet him! I’ve never had anybody… like me before… not like he does… Gosh, I just can’t believe he invited me—me—to go to a real party. With him! And I feel… Gosh, I’m so nervous, and scared, and at the same time I want him to go away and make me stop feeling this way—I also never want him to leave. I want to throw up, but in a good way. You know?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Arabelle has scrunched herself on the north end of the bench, where she can hook her chin over the rail and watch the choppy waves, and dream. She’s surprised Rose, secluding herself on the south side of the bench, isn’t doing the same, but her red-headed friend seems preoccupied this morning. Rose sits with her legs tucked under her, staring off into the distance; somewhere off behind a corner Isabelle isn’t close enough to see around.

Belle grips her lower lip with the tips of her pearly, manicured nails, and giggles again. “Lips are so funny. Squishy. I wonder what it would feel like… To… you know… You think he’ll kiss me? No, no, no, don’t laugh at me! Forget it! Forget I said it! I never said it!”

“Oh, my.”

“I can’t wait. I dread every moment, yet anticipate it. I imagine this is what it’s like to be struck by lighting, you know—”

“Yep.”

Belle breaks away from her spot and turns to face her friend. Rose looks paler than usual, her cheeks standing out unusually red. She leans on her elbow, with the arm of the chair digging into her gut, but she doesn’t appear to be bothered. “Come on, Rose, I can take a hint,” says Belle, a little hurt. Rose simply continues to scan the faces that stroll past, absently, as if looking for someone. “What’s on your mind?”

“What?” Rose lifts her cheek from her hand. “Nothing! I love lightning. Zoom.”

“Rose…” Belle puts a comforting hand on Rose’s shoulder. The girl flinches slightly, as if not used to be touched nicely. “I heard about your accident yesterday. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No! Oh. No. No Belle, please, I’m sorry. I want to hear all about him.”

“Oh, look at me! I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to blabber on when—”

“Arabelle! Really. Look at me. I’m fine.” Rose manages a smile. It’s a genuine one, that reaches her eyes, and Belle is reassured. “You’re going to a party, right?”

“Right! Oh, it’ll be fantastic! The perfect dream come true, and—”

Rose stands suddenly, interrupting her, sputtering. “Oh. Oh! Belle I— I have to go! I’ll be right—”

With that almost-explanation, Rose dashes around the corner, a fading blur of auburn curls.

Oh, Rose. We’re two of a kind. A pair of bright, beautiful young girls who have found the men of their dreams. Belle shakes her head good-naturedly, turns back to the endless ocean, and dreams.