A/N: Thanks so much for the amazing comments, critiques, feedback, I find them so helpful!

Chapter 21: Reflections

Peanut butter.

Perhaps it was a sense of nostalgia from hanging out with the kids, but as soon as they reached home, Carter had an intense craving for it.

The silverware drawer clattered as Carter pulled it open and took out a butter knife.

"What are you doing?" Rosie inquired.

Standing by the island counter, Carter pulled out a plate and set the knife on top of it. "I feel like a good ole PB and J." Her stomach rumbled at the thought. There was nothing quite like peanut butter and jelly after a long hot and busy day, especially after having only eaten a few graham crackers since lunch.

Rosie looked puzzled.

"A peanut butter and jelly sandwich?" Carter took the bread from the counter. One dark eyebrow flew upwards. "Don't say it!"

Rosie opened her mouth and closed it again, heeding Carter's warning.

Carter sighed. She supposed that peanut butter and jelly was not the typical food offered by royal chefs to princesses. Still to be sixteen years old and have missed out on something so classic seemed so…sad.

Thunk. Carter opened the cupboard and pulled down the peanut butter jar.

Rosie eyed her preparations curiously. "I will try one."

"You're not allergic, are you?" Carter asked, peering into the refrigerator. No jelly, but she did spot a jar of jam. Jam, jelly. Whatever. She pulled the jam jar from the refrigerator, unscrewed the lid, and set it next to the peanut butter.

"Allergic?" asked Rosie coming to stand next to Carter and the line of items now parading across the island countertop.

"To peanuts." Carter pointed to the label on the peanut butter jar depicting the nut.

"Oh, cacahuates," Rosie comprehended joyfully. "No, I am not."

At that, Carter grabbed a second plate and added slices of bread. She took up the knife once more and dipped it into the peanut butter. "Then, get ready for a treat."

"May I assist you?" Rosie offered.

"Sure. I'll show you how to make yours." Carter passed Rosie another butter knife and slid the plate with bread slices on it in front of her. "Just do what I do. Only with the jelly. Then, we'll switch."

Rosie carefully dipped her knife into the jam.

"It helps if you tilt the jar over the bread," Carter advised as she swiftly spread a thick layer of peanut butter across her bread. "You're going to want an equal peanut butter to jelly ratio, so be careful."

Following the advice, Rosie put jam on her bread and began to spread it. "I thought you did very well today, Carter," Rosie commented as they worked on their sandwich spreads.

"I guess," Carter said, licking off a gob of peanut butter that had adhered to her thumb. "It's just…I can't help but think this whole vote thing was a fluke. Most of the time, people don't like me."

"Perhaps you do not give them the chance." Rosie accepted the peanut butter knife that Carter handed to her. She dropped her own knife into the jam jar and passed it to Carter.

Carter fiddled with the jam jar and slid the sticky substance onto her bread. "I don't have a lot of patience with people. Even people you care about can let you down. And so does everyone else. So, why bother?"

Rosie concentrated on smoothing the peanut butter evenly on her bread slice. The nutty odor wafted into her nostrils. "That's not true, Carter. Not everyone."

Carter studied the halves of her sandwich. "Ninety percent of the time it is."

The kitchen filled with an uncomfortable silence before Rosie broke it. "Not everyone is like your mother."

Carter's lips pressed together in a tight line. She assembled her sandwich, and then stepped over and completed Rosie's, pressing the halves together. "Your father left you."

Rosie shook her head, moving away to leave her knife in the sink. "He died, Carter."

Carter pulled a banana from the fruit bowl and tossed it in the air, catching it. "It's the same thing."

Rosie turned and came back towards the middle of the kitchen. She leaned her palms against the island, looking over her completed sandwich. "No. It is entirely different. It was not his choice."

"Oh. But it was her choice." Carter sliced the unpeeled banana in half quickly.

"We do not know the circumstances that created—"

Carter huffed, tossing the halved banana onto their plates. "Stop trying to cheer me up."

Rosie pursed her lips. She knew anything having to do with Carter's mother continued to be a sensitive issue. And Carter was quite capable of sparking an argument if only to avoid delving further into the once taboo topic.

Unwilling to be reeled into an argument, Rosie didn't take the bait.

This led to silence.

Dark brown eyes stared at the princess for a moment. "Well, are you gonna try it?"

"Oh yes, of course." Rosie quickly took up her sandwich and took a huge bite. Unfortunately, peanut butter adhered to the roof of her mouth and it felt like her mouth had been glued shut. She breathed in frantically through her nose. She tried to chew and started to gag.

"Whoa!" Carter rushed to the refrigerator, pulled out a milk carton, and ran back to Rosie. She pressed open the carton and thrust it towards Rosie's face. "Here, here. Wash it down."

Rosie looked on the brink of refusing causing Carter to let out an exasperated sigh. "It's a new carton!"

Standing beside her, Carter lifted the carton to Rosie's lips and watched her sip slowly.

Closing her eyes, Rosie felt the food in her mouth soften. She gulped, and then managed to swallow. She pulled her mouth away from the milk carton, coughed several times and then began to breathe easier.

Carter laid the carton aside on the hard countertop. She leaned forward, patting the other girl's back rapidly with one hand. "Rosie, you okay? Rosie?"

Rosie took a deep breath. Her eyes were still closed and Carter couldn't read the expression on her face.

Rosie spoke at last. "This is…"

"What?" Carter asked breathlessly, relieved to hear Rosie speaking coherently.

Eyes flew open and cheeks dimpled as Rosie grinned. "Wonderful," Rosie finished, staring at the sandwich in her hands. She appeared completely unconcerned that she had nearly choked as she took another, albeit smaller, bite.

Carter threw up her hands. "It's so not wonderful. You were choking!"

Rosie raised an eyebrow, still grinning. "I am fine now. I did not mean to bother you." She climbed into a chair and proceeded to eat with gusto.

Carter sat too. "You didn't bother me. You scared me…I thought…I don't know." She bit into her sandwich and chewed furiously.

"You cared enough to do something. The same way you did when Chelsea tricked me in the yogurt shop. And with the raccoon and the way you fixed my blanket when you believed I was asleep."

Carter shifted in her chair uneasily. She blinked. "You were awake?"

Rosie nodded blissfully, swallowing her latest bite before she spoke. "I am sorry about what your mother did, Carter. I cannot change that. Neither can you. What you can change, Carter, is what you do right now. You can be different. Give people a chance. They may surprise you."

"I just don't want to get hurt anymore."

"Sometimes there are things we must hide," Rosie said with a thoughtful look. "But I believe we should never hide that we care. Hiding means nobody will be able to get to know who we truly are. Is that what you want, Carter?"

"I'm not hiding." Carter sat up a little straighter. "But I don't feel the overwhelming need to go around wearing my heart on my sleeve either."

Rosie smiled warmly. "I think you have a good heart, Carter Mason. You need to show it more often. Would you please try?"

Carter took another bite, this time savoring the nutty flavor as it mingled with the sweet jam and bread on her tongue. She wasn't sure when it happened, but suddenly Rosie's opinion of her mattered a lot. "Yes." Carter breathed out with a nod, conceding defeat. "I'll try."

Carter Mason was wearing a dress.

And not just any dress. A strapless vintage dress made of some lacy white and blue material with decorative ruffles and a sash which even shimmered a little. It had taken a couple of hours to pick out after Rosie had surprised Carter by thrusting a pile of dresses into her arms at the thrift shop the two girls had visited this afternoon. While donating a box filled with clothes, old toys, and a small lamp that Carter hadn't used in ages, Rosie had bonded instantly with the elderly shop lady wearing a soft shade of pink. The lady in pink had been so pleased to see young people wanting to help in their community that she offered them a discount on anything in the store.

Before Carter knew what had happened, she had been drawn into a giving a mini fashion show, marching outside along the makeshift runway in dress after dress as Rosie and an elderly group of ladies critiqued the outfits. Their comments were all along the lines of "Too old for a young thing", "Too Audrey Hepburn" or "Too Queen of England."

The dress Carter wore now had been the winning number.

Then, Carter had thought it only fitting that Rosie endured a similar ordeal. Finding a dress that suited Rosie proved to be much easier; the princess settled on a white with straps. And, by the end of all, Carter found herself high-fiving their impromptu audience of elderly fashion critics and thoroughly enjoying every minute of what had begun as a kind of awkward torture.

So here they were at home, both still wearing their dresses, as Rosie watched Carter attempt to promenade regally about their bedroom.

It was all Rosie could do not to laugh out loud as she watched Carter wobble, trying to balance a book on her head.

Focused on her goal, Carter didn't notice the silent laughter.

"You're just so good with everybody," Carter told Rosie. "Kids, old people, you're probably even good with dogs." Carter had always wanted a dog, but had never been able to get her dad to warm to the idea. He'd been chased too many times by these animals in the line of duty.

Rosie sat comfortably upon the window seat. "That is true," she said simply.

The activities they'd participated in together throughout the week were not the things Carter had ever thought a princess kept in mind. "You're so much more generous than I thought you'd be."

"It is a princess' job to help people."

In all the fairy tales, there was always something important omitted between the once upon a times and the happily ever afters: Being a princess was a real job. "I guess I never really thought about what it really means to be a princess," Carter admitted gravely. Years of watching her father go on missions to rescue princesses had left Carter with the images of damsels in distress. But being a princess involved so much more because princesses had a mind-boggling plethora of duties to perform and some, as in Rosie's case, had to take the reins of an entire kingdom.

They had to be strong leaders. They had to study hard to make wise decisions. And apparently, they had to balance books on their head in order to have good posture which would make them look like wise and strong leaders.

Carter's book almost toppled and Carter paused to readjust it, before returning to pacing once more.

Rosie giggled quietly watching Carter's movements. She removed the book she was balancing on her own head and stood up.

Carter paced back and forth, struggling to keep from tilting and losing her literary load. "Like this. I can't believe you actually have to do this."

Carrying her book, Rosie stepped into the teen's path as Carter turned back to cross the room once more. Rosie tossed the book aside onto her bed. Her brown eyes sparkled with mirth. "Oh, no, you don't."

Confounded, Carter gave Rosie a questioning look. The confused teen lowered her book. "Wait, then, why am I doing it?"

Rosie's face split into a huge grin and laughter spilled out. Carter had been taking everything about these princess lessons so seriously. When Rosie had teasingly suggested the book, Carter had been uncharacteristically gullible. Rosie had wondered how far the American girl would go without questioning it. "Because, it is funny," Rosie said gleefully.

Suddenly, Carter realized she'd been the brunt of a joke. "What?" Carter held back laughter of her own. She felt pleasantly surprised that Rosie, of all people, had been able to fool her. Mischievously, Carter twisted her face into a pseudo frown. "I hate you."

"You do?" Rosie's eyes widened and her mouth fell open in shock.

Carter laughed at the look on Rosie's face. "No, no, no, no," she quickly explained. Her voice grew sincere. "I didn't mean, 'I hate you, I hate you.' I meant," Carter paused as her heart swelled with emotion, "'I hate you' like, you're my best friend." One of the brightest smiles Carter had ever seen flashed her way and Carter didn't regret her heartfelt words for a second. Of all the people she'd ever met, no one else compared to Rosie.

Rosie breathed a sigh of relief. 'I hate you' didn't mean I hate you. Carter had been playing a game and 'I hate you' meant the opposite. "Well," said Rosie, drawing her shoulders back regally. She tried to make her voice sound convincing, because she wasn't used to saying the opposite of what she meant. Yet, more than anything else at the moment, she wanted to be best friends with Carter. Rosie tried to look serious. "I hate you too. And that dress is ugly."

"It is?" Carter asked, worriedly looking down at her dress.

Rosie immediately dropped her act with a small laugh. She wasn't good at this game of opposites. In future, she'd leave such things to Carter. She gently placed her hands on Carter's shoulders, getting her to look up. "No, it is beautiful. And so are you. Look." Rosie turned Carter around to face the mirror and moved her towards it. "You are becoming a princess on the inside." Rosie gently placed the tiara on top of Carter's head, crowning her. "And now, you look like one too."

Carter stared at the reflections shining in the glass as matching smiles grew on their faces and the entire world seemed brighter. Rosie had just called her beautiful. And Rosie wouldn't say it if she didn't mean it, so Carter had no choice but to believe it.

I'm beautiful, Carter thought. Just like a princess.

She felt an overwhelming rush of joy.

I'm a princess!