CourtShip
By Esme Incognito
Inspired by Stephenie Meyers' Twilight series. No infringement intended.
Posted 5/25/14
A/N
Welcome to CourtShip, my second full-length story. If you're coming from The Fantasy Basket, thank you for taking a second ride through my version of the Twilight world. If you found this another way, I'm so glad you found this story! Please leave a note to let me know where you heard about it.
I may not be able to post chapters regularly for awhile. I have this story about half written, but that doesn't mean the first half! I've got the main Bella & Edward story (their journals) 80% written and just the very beginnings of the sub plot that will be woven in between—the girl who's reading the journals. I'll try to hurry! Knowing that you're all eagerly awaiting more will help motivate me.
I hope this short first chapter will give you a taste of what's to come and you'll be on alert when I make enough progress to post more.
I'd love to hear your first impression of CourtShip. Please post comments, suggestions, thoughts…
Thanks for reading. Please Enjoy!
Jen
PS: This is straight from me to you—no beta or pre-readers—so all errors are mine.
Story Summary
In cleaning out a house, sorting through a lifetime of memories and possessions, she happens upon the journals, his and her stories of how it all began: a 50th anniversary, a graduation trip, a cruise that set them on a new course. AH 20-something Bella & Edward. A little angst, but mostly fluffy, romantic fun.
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CHAPTER 1
It had been a long day already, and it was only lunchtime. After four hours, eleven boxes, and three paper cuts I was only halfway through the bookshelves, removing the tomes from their neat, organized homes on the shelves and sorting them to their fates—keep, toss, sell, not sure…
I'd been instructed to leaf through each book, warned that their owner was apt to absentmindedly leave treasures among the pages. I found mostly unremarkable things: bookmarks, paperclips, advertising post cards and scraps of whatever lay nearby to mark the place she'd left off. But every so often, I came across something interesting. I found a twenty dollar bill and a couple of singles, several half-done to do lists in her loopy, messy cursive, theater tickets, an unused airline voucher for a free flight that expired twelve years ago—bet she missed that—and several photographs.
But the biggest treasure by far was in the notes. It was obvious which books were her favorites, for she'd signed and dated the inside cover upon each perusal. And the margins were filled with comments. Handwritten thoughts and memories triggered by the words she'd read. Those books were the hardest to sort.
How could I sell or give away something so personal, share these glimpses into her mind, her feelings, her soul with nameless readers at the library? With people haggling the price of this priceless piece of her down from 50 cents to a quarter? They didn't know her and would probably be annoyed by her musings in the margins. I wanted to get to know her better, to wrap my arms around her books and her words and never let them go. Never let her go.
Sell.
Sell.
Sell.
Every so often, I'd find a volume she'd bequeathed to someone, scrawling a name and a personal note on the front page. Those were the easiest to part with, knowing they were going to a good home, that the recipients would appreciate her dedications. There were even a few she'd left to me. "Marie, I was a quiet girl like you. This book opened my eyes to a lot of new things in college. I hope it helps you someday, too."
Keep. Definitely keep.
I moved on to the bookshelf in the corner and my task became exponentially harder. A whole shelf of leather bound journals, identical but for the dates printed on the spines in the neat block printing that must have been his were the first to strike me. I'd thought notes in the margins were personal, but journals? Heaven help me. The rest of that bookshelf—floor to ceiling—was filled with photo albums, scrapbooks, yearbooks, children's art portfolios… memories in every size and shape.
I sat back on my heels, looking around me for help that I knew was not forthcoming, and wondered what to do with them. I wasn't qualified for this. Why couldn't I have been assigned to, say, the dining room? Or the garage?
I puffed out my cheeks and blew out a long breath, deciding that it was time to take a break and go eat lunch, when something on the shelf caught my eye. Instead of being neatly lined up with its brothers, one of the leather bound journals was out of place on a shelf with the photo albums. Upon closer inspection, I found that it was tied together with a large square scrapbook, giftwrap style—a wide blue ribbon holding the mismatched volumes together, criss-cross— tied in a neat bow right in the center. I took them down and loosened the bond, noting the gold-printed words inked on the journal's black cover with neat precision:
Journal
Nanny & Pops' 50th Anniversary Cruise
July 2014
My eyes widened at the date as I set the book aside and turned to it's partner. That's an old one.
The scrapbook must have been from the same cruise, it's cover adorned with a graphic of a large, white ship sailing toward the horizon, embossed with her name across the bow—the Eclipse.
I opened the cover and flipped through the large, plastic-encased pages, noticing that someone had unscrewed the posts that bound the book together and interspersed several smaller pages among the large scrapbook-sized ones. The smaller plastic sheaths contained lined pages torn from a spiral notebook. They were filled with the sloppy cursive I'd been reading all day—the writing of someone whose thoughts moved faster than her fingers could record them.
I read…
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Her Scrapbook
Day 1: All Aboard!
I am so excited! Our graduation trip is finally here. Well, I've got another year of school, technically, thanks to my double major, but Jessica and Angela both graduated and I finished my fourth year, so…whatever!...we're here on the ship, en route to Mexico. Actually, I think we're already far enough south to be alongside Mexico, but we're in international waters so it doesn't count.
This is going to be so much better than our spring break trip to Ensenada last year! The fact that none of us could go somewhere together this past April for our very last spring break prompted this trip. Angela had to go home for her twin brothers' 18th birthday party and Jessica's internship wouldn't give her spring break off. (Especially since she didn't request the time off—she just assumed it would be a work holiday! Welcome to the real world, right?) I spent a super fun-filled week in the library, researching and outlining a couple of term papers. Yeah, that was great!
When my friends found out how I'd spent spring break, they insisted that we plan a graduation trip together—one last hurrah—and so, here we are aboard the Eclipse.
We met up in Long Beach yesterday and had fun catching up on what we've all been doing since school got out last month. Jessica was so cute. She got matching Cal t-shirts for us that say "Cruising 2014." We weren't the only ones with t-shirts. There was a group—it must have been a family reunion or something because there were at least 20 of them ranging in age from a baby to an elderly lady with one of those scooter things. Anyway, they all had matching blue shirts that said "50 Years - Cullen Crazy Cruisers."
While we waited in a horrendously long line to check in, Jessica was chattering on and on about what a jerk her boss was because he made her work late on Friday to finish some big project before she left on vacation. I kind of zoned out, which made me worry that my besties and I may already be drifting apart, only a few weeks after graduation. I really hope that my extra year of school doesn't cause me to lose touch with my friends whose lives are moving on.
As we made our way around and around the long queue, I was startled by a shriek that came from a girl in that group with the t-shirts. She's a tiny little thing, probably around thirteen, who had cut her t-shirt into this fancy, one-shouldered, fringed thing. She was really excited to see some new guy who joined their group, bouncing around and hugging him. I chuckled when he put his hands on her shoulders, kissed her forehead, and kind of nudged her away. Obviously, she caught a little too much of the Cullen Cruise Craziness, even for her own family member!
We moved forward in line and I got to talking with Angela about the Teach All America assignment she just got. I'm kind of worried about her. She's going to a sketchy area that has a really high crime rate to teach underprivileged kids for a year. She's very committed to doing it, though. She's always been such a kind and generous soul.
When we wound around to the outside edge of the queue again, I could see that the new t-shirt guy, who looked like he's around our age (and did I mention, really, really cute?) had been passed along through his whole big group, receiving hugs from every one of them. He was making faces at a tiny little boy in his arms and was talking animatedly with an older lady.
I watched them wistfully, wondering what it would be like to have a big, loving family like theirs. Three people. That's what I've got. I know my dad loves me, but he shows it in ways like painting my room or putting the snow chains on my truck when the weather's bad. My mom and Phil are great, but I hardly ever see them. So, I was watching this big, beautiful, demonstrative family, trying to make observations for future stories I may write.
Jessica noticed me staring and, crude as usual, broke me from my reverie by asking if I'd honed in on a "target" for this trip already. I told her that I was just wondering what it would be like to have a big family like that.
Jess, being Jess, gave a typically crass retort, saying that if I wanted a big family, I'd have to find somebody to make babies with first. She laughed at her own joke. I didn't. Oh my god, I can't believe her! Even with all these people surrounding us, she kept going on and on about it, her voice escalating.
At one point she yelled out, all excited, that her top priority for this cruise was to "find me a man." This old guy with a big beer gut, who was in line with his buddies, called out "I volunteer, baby!" and he totally checked me out. Ugh!
I could feel my face heat up as Angela put her arm around me and gave me a little half-hug. Then she basically told Jessica to shut the hell up. I love that Jessica helps pull me out of my shell, but sometimes, she just doesn't know when to stop.
We got to the ship, unpacked, and ate lunch at a fantastic buffet. Then we had to go through this ridiculous safety drill. Everyone on the ship had to go to a designated place down by the lifeboats and basically wait around in a huge crowd for everyone else to show up in the right place so they could demonstrate how to put on a life preserver.
We were all stuck there, three rows deep, and this lady who was already drunk (we'd only been on the boat for 2 hours!) was being obnoxious. "WTF is a muster station?" she shouted. "If the ship is sinking, I'm jumping in the first lifeboat I see. Why the hell would I go look for my muster station?" Nice!
Jessica was laughing at her. Angela was paying close attention to all the signs and the map of the ship.
Afterwards, as we waited for the clog of people to work their way through the narrow doorways and stairways and elevators, I watched people, observing how they act and what they say. Sometimes I make up stories in my head about random people that I notice.
The high point of the drill was that I saw that Cullen guy again. He's pretty tall, so I could see his head above the crowd. Gosh, he's cute. And in the natural light, I could see the unique color of his hair. It looks dark brown indoors, but outside I could see that it's actually kind of auburn-reddish with some lighter, almost golden, highlights. I know it's not right to call a boy pretty, but that's the best word to describe this guy's hair. I wish I had hair like that instead of boring brown.
Gotta go. We're headed to our sit-down dinner and then checking out the night life on the ship. It should be fun! (I just hope that Jessica doesn't spend the whole night trying to hook me up with random guys!)
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A portrait of three girls about my age—the kind of picture that entertainment venues force you to pose for and then try to sell you for outrageous prices—adorned the facing page, the date: July 8, 2014.
Could that be her in the middle? Wow!
And that cute guy in the Cullen Crazies t-shirt must have been… Before they met… Oh my god. If the larger book was her journal and scrapbook, then the other one must be…
I grabbed for the black leather bound book and eagerly flipped open the front cover, turning past the cover page until I found the first entry.
Yes, it was… I read, anxious to read his side of the story.
"Ready for some lunch?" My partner in crime looked exhausted and glum. She was definitely in need of a break, a change of scenery. The journal would have to wait.
A/N
Who do you suppose our book-sorting, journal-reading protagonist is? And who could the cute guy on the cruise be? Hmmm…
Please review!