I hate the sea. I despise it, with all the strength in my tiny body. Ever since I was a child, I've thought that the ocean was nothing but a disgusting place full of ungodly fish and dangers. But, then again, who could blame me? My father was a sailor and he was lost at sea when I was eleven years old. I didn't ever see him again.
So you can probably understand my excitment when I had to travel on the RMS Titanic.
It wasn't something that was optional, planned, or even wanted. One day, a ticket just arrived in the mail for me. Apparently my little sister was getting married. She was marrying into a wealthy family, and had recently moved to the U.S. I wasn't even aware of that, considering I hadn't seen or spoken to her since I had run away from home at the age of seventeen. She had been only thirteen at the time, and of course I had my fears about leving her behind to fend alone with my mother, but I needed to do what was best for me.
And now, here I am: twenty-three years old, living in an apartment the size of a shoebox in London, while my baby sister already had it everything a girl could ask for.
"Great, just great..." I grumbled to myself. I threw the ticket down to the kitchen counter. Leaning against the coutner, I realised I was badly in need of a drink. I grabbed my keys and coat and made a mad dash for the bar that was two blocks away.
My teeth chattered and my whole frame shook; I was chilled to the bone. The cold London air dispersed as soon as I set foot in the pub. "Gracie!" A man called to me.
"Aye, John! Long time, no see, eh?" I sniled at the man sitting some twenty feet away from where I stood.
"Come, come! Have a seat with me," he motioned me over, and I gratefully accepted his invitation. Seeing me sitting next to him must have been quite a sight for any onlookers. I was only five-foot-three, practically a porcelain doll next to this six-foot giant.
"How's the weather?" John asked me jokingly.
"Shut up, you oaf!" I shoved him playfully, but he barely budged.
"God, you must be freezing. Let's get you something to warm you up, hmm? A whiskey, for the lass!" He called to the bartender.
"How have you been John?"
"I'm doing well. Just got back from Melrose," John and I were both from Melrose, Scotland. He'd moved away at a young age, following his parents to London for work. Nothing about him screamed Scotsman other than his slight lilt. "How about you? Anything exciting happen?"
"Well, Claire is getting married," I stated. John's eyes widened as he took a sip of his drink.
"Really?"
"Yeah. She moved to America with her fiance. He's some rich bugger who's paying for me to make it there. I'm even traveling on Titanic," I said scornfully.
"The Titanic? Wow, Gracie. I'd give an arm and a leg to travel on a ship like that."
A waitress appeared with a glass of whiskey for me, and I took it. "John, there's two problems. One, I hate the damn sea! And two, I'm third class. They got me a second class ticket. I mean, sure it's not first class or anything! But it still leaves me wondering how I should act. For God's sake, I have two dresses. Two! I certainly can't go hae dinner in the same dress every night with people who are so much better than me."
"You'll be fine! If it makes you feel any better, I've got a lot of money saved up. For a rainy day, y'know? We can go out tomorrow and get you some clothes worthy of second class," he smiled at me.
"John, don't waste your money on me," I sighed.
"Say, when does the ship leave anyway?"
"April tenth at noon. From Southhampton,"
"Alright, perfeect. Tomorrow is the ninth. I'll be at your apartment at eleven o'clock. That should give us enough time," John leaned back into his chair.
I contemplated this for a minute. I could allow him to spend money on me, and I could look presentable on the grandest ship on earth. Or, option two, I get on Titanic as a second class looking like I just crawled out of the gutter. "Is there any use arguing with you?" I asked.
"Nope," he said gleefully.
"Fine, but I promis I will be very difficult!" I warned him.
"Whatever," John brushed me off.
"I should get going. I'm tired, and if I want to make shopping as hard as possible for you tommorow, I need sleep," I gulped down the whiskey, which had been untouched until now.
Laughing, John stood up. "I'll walk you home,"
I pulled on my coat and walked arm in arm with John all the way back to my apartment. We laughed the whole way, both feeling giddy from the alcohol.
"Goodnight!" I said.
"I'll see you tomorrow. And god help me if you don't come with me, Gracie Baxter!" John walked down the hall, leaving me standing there, still giggling.
As much as I didn't want to go shopping, I was looking forward to spending time with John. He was my best friend, and any time with him is valuable.
"Goodight," I said again, but this time to myself. I unlocked the door, walked over to my bed, and immedeatly fell into a deep sleep.