Chapter 1
She didn't break when her parents died.
Didn't break when her world was crumpled, and thrown into the trash.
Broke when the girl was happy.
Broke when the girl found a home.
Broke when the girl was rich.
Being three years old, everything was all fun and games. When the police told her that her mom was gone, Lena thought she was playing hide-and-seek.
When the social worker told her she was going to an adoption center, she thought they were all playing pretend.
When she was dropped off by the social worker, and greeted by an old woman, she thought she was on a long vacation.
What a vacation it was.
"Lena, wake up, squirt!" The old woman said. "Breakfast is ready!"
Being nine, she was hungry for food. She groggily got out of bed, and dragged herself to the breakfast table.
"Everyone, we have a new addition! Say hi!"
A tall, beautiful girl, with silky, long brown hair, scintillating golden eyes, and light skin, stood at the front of the room, modestly. She gazed at her sneakers, and mumbled, "Bonjour,"
"You're French!" Lena accidentally blurted out. "Er - sorry,"
The girl looked at her for one second, then looked to the windows
"So, tell them how old you are!"
She thoughtfully closed her eyes. "Em… one five. Quinze," Then she opened her dazzling golden eyes.
"Fifteen?"
She nodded.
"Well, eat up! Your roommate's right over there - Lena - so go sit next to her, please,"
She lowered her eyebrows, confused. "Who is… Lee-nah?"
The old woman - Margaret - pointed at the brunette, with wild, spiky hair. "Right over there, sweetie,"
She's so pretty! Lena thought to herself.
The taller girl sat beside the British girl, and sighed, then ate her food.
8:45. Curfew.
All the orphans got in a line, and stood next to their roommate or roommates. Lena only had one roommate: the French girl.
She was a sight to see, and tall too… so tall.
"Alright, children, let's go to our bunks, shall we?" Margaret said with a grin.
"We don't really have a choice," Lena said quietly, hoping to make the French girl chuckle, at least a little bit, but her countenance stayed the same: stone-faced.
Their bunk was the second-to-last one, so they stayed walking for awhile, until they finally reached their room.
"Goodnight, sweeties," Margaret said. She kissed Lena and the other girl on the forehead.
The nine year-old went in first, and lied on the bottom bunk.
The tall girl closed the door, making everything pitch-black, and Lena soon heard creaking from the top bunkbed.
"G'night!" The British girl said.
Silence was all she got in response.
A'ight then. Lena thought.
12:30. Freetime for the orphans.
Lena didn't have any friends at the orphanage… or any friends ever. The kids at the orphanage either had friends of their own, or just didn't want to talk to her.
She stepped out of the orphanage, then gazed at the little field. As she monitored the field, she noticed her roommate sitting against a tree, with her nose stuffed in a book.
"Might as well," Lena said, under her breath. She walked over to the girl, and grinned. "Hey, how's your day, so far?"
"Why you want hurt me?" Still reading her book, she continued. "I want read, you leave, mm?"
She shook her head, slightly confused. "Who's tryna hurt you?"
"You."
"No, I actually just want to know how you're doing,"
The French girl looked up from her book, for the first time, and locked eyes with Lena for more than a second. Her eyes shined like the sun on a warm day. "Ah," She paused, seeming amazed at what Lena said. "Desole,"
"Hmm?"
"It means - em - sorry,"
"Oh. Well, don't be, it's okay."
She nodded. "Because there are… bullies. Many,"
Lena raised her eyebrows, "That's not good. I've never noticed,"
"You - em - have friends?"
She shook her head, "Nope, not really,"
"Mm," The French girl thought. "Tu t'appelles Lena, oui?"
"Uh, my name's Lena,"
"Excuse me, I am practicing English, still,"
"No, it's alright, but what's your name?"
She arched an eyebrow. "Pourquoi?"
That was one of the only words Lena understood: that meant why. "Just wanna know,"
"Je m'appelle Amelie,"
"Emily?"
She shook her head, sort of irritated at Lena for calling her Emily. "Non, Amelie,"
"Oh, okay. That's a pretty name,"
Amelie gazed up at Lena; the younger girl was wearing her baggy jeans, and baggy t-shirt. "You want sit, mm?"
"Yeah," Lena sat beside her roommate, and looked over at the book. "Whatcha reading?"
"Les Miserables,"
"Oh, is it good?" The British girl tried to read it, but the words were all in French.
"Oui, very," Lena tried holding back a yawn, but Amelie caught her. "You are… tired, mm?"
She shrugged, "Eh, I refuse to admit I am," The British girl just wanted her pillow; she didn't feel comfortable lying her head on the tree because of the bugs that would "climb into her ear," as Margaret always told her.
Amelie glanced at Lena. "You may use my shoulder,"
"You sure?"
She nodded.
"Thanks," She rested her head on the French girl's shoulder, and grinned. "Oi, Amelie, can you read to me?"
"It is in French,"
"I know,"
She nodded.
Lena closed her eyes, and cuddled against Amelie's shoulder, as she began reading.
"Wake up,"
She heard.
"Lena, wake up,"
She groaned. "What?"
"Lunch,"
"Oh, okay," Lena grinned at Amelie. "Thanks for letting me sleep on your shoulder!"
"You're welcome," She stood up, and offered Lena a hand.
The British girl took Amelie's hand, and stood up. "Did I snore?"
Amelie giggled, for the first time Lena had ever heard; it was an exquisite, and beautiful sound. "Oui,"
"Sorry,"
"It is okay. You were not loud,"
"Oh, okay, good. How long did you read to me?"
"Until now,"
They walked through the orphanage's back doorway, and sat beside each other at the dining table.
"So, was the book good?"
"I did not finish, but oui, it is,"
Lena glanced at Amelie's hair, and chuckled. "Your hair's amazing,"
"Merci, so is yours,"
Soon enough, Margaret passed out breakfast for lunch: Eggos waffles.
The French girl ate her waffles with a knife and fork, while Lena just stuffed it all in her mouth. "You are messy when you eat," She snickered.
"I can't help it, love. This is my second breakfast,"
"Oui, it is," Amelie was the last one to finish, which left Lena there with her too. "You may leave if you'd like,"
"No way, I wanna stay with you!"
She grinned, "Okay,"
After about a minute of talking some more, the taller girl finished her waffle.
"I bet I can beat you to the field,"
Amelie chuckled, "Oui?"
"Yeah!"
"Let us go,"
Lena ran as fast as she could, but Amelie was a few inches behind her.
In the end, the British girl won.
"Told ya!" She laughed, "So, whattaya wanna do, hmm?"
The fifteen year old shrugged, "I'm not sure,"
They sat against "their" tree.
"Just wanna talk, do ya?"
Amlie nodded, "Oui,"
"A'ight, that's fine with me, I wanna talk too,"
"What would you like to talk about?"
Lena shrugged. "I dunno, whatever you wanna talk about,"
"I am not sure," Amelie grinned. "But I like talking to you, Lena,"
"Thanks, I like talking to you too!"
She ran a hand through Lena's wild head of brunette hair. "I like you. You are very nice,"
Her heart pounded against her chest. "I-I like you too, you're really funny, and smart, and friendly, and all of that stuff,"
"We are friends, mm?"
She nodded her head vigorously. "Yeah, of course!"
Amelie grinned, but she really grinned; ear-to-ear. "You are different from others."
"Thanks, so are you," She thought. "But like in a good way!"
She nodded. "Merci. Em - what is your age?"
"Nine,"
"Mm," Amelie gazed into Lena's hazel eyes, "Do you like ballet?"
"Eh, kinda. What about you?"
"I love ballet,"
Amèlie sat there in Lena's arms, crying her heart out. "I-It is all my fault, I was unaware there were classes. I will never get anywhere with ballet!"
The British girl hated seeing her crush like that. "Look, it's not your fault, they didn't give us a deadline to sign up."
"I should have signed up the second I heard!"
Lena got up, releasing Amèlie from her arms. "I'll be back in a sec,"
"Where are you going, ma chèrie?"
"I - just hold on, I'll be right back, I swear,"
"Okay," Amèlie gazed into the younger girl's eyes; some little spark was found in those golden eyes of the French girl, but Lena decided not to overthink things.
The British girl left their room, and ran towards Margaret (who was sitting in a rocking chair watching over the other children in the backyard), "Oi, Margaret! Margaret!"
The older woman gazed at Lena with a heartwarming grin, "Hey, squirt, is something wrong?"
She vigorously nodded, "Yeah! I-It's Amelie,"
"Do you want me to move her?" Margaret asked, clearly shocked.
"No!" Then Lena realised she shouted. "Er - no, please keep us the same, but she's really sad that she didn't sign up for the ballet classes; there was no deadline, and it's not fair you took the sign up sheets away without telling us when you would take them away!" Immediately, Lena knew she would be grounded for speaking to Margaret like that.
Instead of punishing the British girl, the older woman nodded. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't think anyone would really want to do it, because no one signed up!"
"Can you make a spot for Amelie?"
Margaret beamed, "Of course, Lena. I'm glad you two have made a sisterly bond, it's so sweet,"
Lena blinked. "Sisterly, yeah. Anyways, when does the class start?"
"Actually, this Friday. You wanna go tell Amelie now?"
"Yeah! Thank you so much, Margaret!"
"It's my pleasure,"
The British girl ran back to she and Amelie's room, and found her blowing her nose.
"What did you do?" The French girl arched an eyebrow.
Lena chuckled, "Your ballet class starts this Friday!"
The taller girl's mouth gaped open for a few seconds, until she darted towards Lena, and wrapped her arms around her roomate. "Merci! Merci, cherie,"
The British girl only understood merci. "What does those last words mean?"
Amelie grinned, and couldn't find the willpower to let go of the girl with freckled cheeks. "Dear,"
Lena stood in the ballet studio, watching Amelie practicing her routine. She moved with such grace, and glided along the floor, pirouette-ing and leaping here and there, and ended with a split. The British girl applauded as the sixteen year-old took off her ballet shoes, and walked over to Lena.
"Merci, cherie," Amelie grinned. "You are always there for me,"
"And I always will be,"
By the time Amelie hit the age of 16, her final face, features, and body structure showed. When she turned 17, she was prettier than ever as she and the eleven year-old British girl sat against their tree.
"Lena, I… have something important to say,"
The shorter girl arched an eyebrow, "And what's that, love?"
"I am… leaving." She mumbled.
"What - well - when?"
"Tomorrow."
Lena refused to watch Amelie pack. She refused to look at the gorgeous French girl, until she had to go.
"Hey squirt, aren't you going to say bye?" Margaret said.
She sighed, and torpidly slithered out of her bed, and walked over to the front of the orphanage, where Amelie put a bag into a black car.
The shorter girl walked to Amelie. The French girl wore a black crop-top that day, with light blue skinny jeans. "I mean, I don't know what to say, Amelie." She said, without looking at the other girl.
"Lena, I am sorry, I did not know either!"
Then she let herself go. "What, you don't know about your own life? You don't know when you're getting a home? How does that make any sense at all, Amelie?"
"I -"
"No, Amelie, just no! Don't try to make this situation seem…" She paused. "...horrible, okay? This is good, this-this - well - you should be happy!" She nodded, and refused to let the ocean of tears out. "Y-You're getting, a-a home, yeah. It's in - what - Paris, right? You can be a-a famous ballet dancer!" Lena couldn't talk anymore, as her voice began to shake and crack.
"Yes, that is true, but you won't be there to watch me, like you did."
Then, they both burst into tears.
"Amelie, I can't hide this anymore; I love you!"
The taller girl nodded, as rivers went down her cheeks. "I love you too, Lena,"
The British girl chuckled, but out of melancholy. "No, you don't get it. I love you more as than a sister, and more than a best friend; I love you as in I want to you to be my girlfriend, I -"
And then she felt Amelie's lips on hers. "I love you too, Lena," She expressed the syllables more this time.
"I already miss you, Amelie,"
"I miss you too, cherie, I must go now. A bientôt,"
"See ya,"
The tall, gorgeous, perfect, French girl went into the black car's back seat, and the doors closed on their own. To Lena and Amèlie, that was magical.
She waved, and Lena waved back, then the car drove off.
The twelve year-old ran to her room, having an emotional break down, and making an ocean of tears on Amelie's pillow, and wrapped herself around Amelie's covers, and slept in Amelie's bed that night, and every night after that.
They wrote to each other every week, but in Lena's situation, it was hard to act happy for Amèlie, partly because she spilled so many tears while writing the letters
Soon enough, the French girl said she wouldn't be able to write anymore, due to her parents saying the fees were too much, or something like that.
A new girl joined the orphanage a week after Amèlie left, but Margaret knew Lena didn't want anyone being her roommate…
Except Amèlie.
Lena read over all the letters she got back from Amèlie one night, and then burst into tears for an hour and a half.
She didn't break when her parents died.
Didn't break when her world was crumpled, and thrown into the trash.
Broke when the girl was happy.
Broke when the girl found a home.
Broke when the girl was rich.