A/N I am not the owner of Walt Disney, though I am the not-so-proud owner of an idiotic mind that had writers block for a good month or so -_- but a few days ago, I got a sunburn…and with that sunburn came my creativity. I don't even….

I would like to thank XXPay4XtraShippingsXX, as she has stuck with this story through writers block, irregular updates, and horrible chapters alike :)

Book of the Update: The Wednesday Wars by Gary Schmidt

Chapter 25

"I know you're up there," I yell up at the tree.

A few branches rustle and a blur or brown drops down to the forest floor. Pocahontas stands up, the wind blowing back her hair just perfectly. "I can't go over there. Don't make me go over there, Arielle, please," she begs, and I sigh.

"Why not?"

"But what if he's not there? What if he doesn't want to see me?"

I roll my eyes. So melodramatic. "You're going to have to sooner or later," I point out, but she just huffs and turns her head.

"I choose later."

"Come on!" I say, grabbing her arm and pulling her in the direction of the beach. After a few minutes of struggling and resisting, she finally gives in and lets me lead her away.

When we reach the edge of the trees, Pocahontas slows her pace and eventually comes to a stop. "I can't do this," she murmurs. I ignore it and give her a light shove towards the ship, hanging back in the shadows myself. As soon as she's within view, all eyes are on her. Most of the stares are filled with awe or reverence, but I see a few looks of confusion or distrust from those who either haven't heard of her tale or don't believe it.

Her face is a perfect mask for her emotions; she seems calm and collected as she walks down the beach and into the water. It splashes up to Pocahontas's knees and soaks the hem of her dress, but she either doesn't notice or doesn't care. A young boy on board the ship, probably about 12, runs down into the cabins when he sees her, returning a few moments later, followed by a blur of blonde hair and a silvery-blue vest that quickly disappears down a different set of steps, reappearing at the top of the gangplank that's stuck haphazardly down into the mushy sand.

Pocahontas halts and looks up at the figure. I can't see her face, but from her tense muscles, I can imagine. It feels as if the whole world is holding their breath until John breaks the silence. "Pocahontas?"

A small, strangled gasp-cry escapes her lips and before I know what's happened, they're running at each other, and John is squeezing her to him as tightly as he can without hurting her and someone's crying and even from this close, I can't tell who it is. Maybe it's both of them, or maybe it's' salt water, but all I know is that it's perfect and that every woman watching on the beach(and a few of the more romantic men) are trying to hold in their squeals of happiness right now, watching these two.

I bring my hand up to my face and let a bit of a squeak out into my fingers, but thankfully no one notices and I get to have my little happy dance moment back here in the shadows.

A hand on my shoulder makes me jump and I turn, hand over my heart. It's Thomas. "Oi!" I yell, punching him in the arm. "Why do ya' keep creeping up on me like that?!" He shrugs, smiling, but doesn't say anything. "Well?" I ask impatiently.

"Oh! Right," he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, "Umm…I can't remember now."

I laugh, "What am I going to do with you, Thomas?"

"I really have no idea."

Someone walks by, at least four feet away, but we both instantly back apart and lean casually against the trees, and when she's gone, Thomas sighs and grabs my hand. "Why can't we just stop hiding and let people think we're gay?"

I smack his hand away. "No! If you want to properly court Arielle when we get back to England, people can't think that you've been being gay with Ari! And besides, it's against the law; we'd be put in jail."

He scowls at me, but I can see the laughter in his eyes as he grudgingly bestows a chaste kiss on my cheek and walks away.

o.o.o. weeks later.o.o.o.o.o.o

"Now," sneered the greasy voice of the captain, "We are about to embark on a 5 month journey across the ocean. If you citizens," he practically spat the word, "don't think that you can stay on this ship that long, turn around and get off now."

I look around. No one gets off.

"Pardon me, sir," a child's lisping voice calls from somewhere in the back, "but I fink fvat we can handow it but whot 'bout you?"

The captain's face registers shock, then anger, but he screws up his mouth tightly and simply walks away, ignoring the boy. As everyone breaks out into chatter, laughter, singing, and who knows what else those noises were, I quietly weave my way through to where the boy's voice came from.

He's sitting on a barrel, legs dangling over the side, telling some story to a group of boys probably younger than me, but defiately older than him. I walk up behind th small crowd and cross my arms, listening to his story.

"…and the whole awmy was aftew 'em but fvey kep on figh'ing wif fveir bows an arrows and jus one or two shotguns, but fvey were driven away to 'ide in the sha'ows like cawadly dowgs, the lot of 'em. But not me. I stayed untiw the vewy end, and I've got the scaws to show it."

I have no idea what he's talking about, havng missed most of the story, but the rest of the boys there ooh and clap and cheer while he just site there proudly, an intelligent and somewhat rebellious smir on his face.

I push through the small crowd and stop right by him. "You the kid who called out the captain?"

"Yes," he affirms unashamedly.

Somewhere in my head, there's a bit of respect for this daring little boy, not likely older than 6 or 7. "What's your name, kid?"

"Gavroche."

"Nice job, Gavroche," I say, giving him a slap on the back. He smiles up at me with crooked dirty teeth, but somehow it's still adorable. I smile back and walk over to where Thomas is leaning over the railing.

"That kid is really something," I say, leaning my arms on the railing as well, a bit farther away from him than I wouldv'e liked.

"I don't' have to be jealous now, do i?" he jokes, elbowing me.

I laugh and shake my head no just as someone else flops their arms down a few feet from us. "Everything alright?"

He looks up with a faint smile. "Yeh. It's just gonna be a bit different when we get back to England. Haven't been there since I was a child, you know. Name's Chrissy, by the way. Spenser Chrissy."

"Ari," I say, probably sounding hostile, but not really caring. Something about this man bothers me, but I don't know what it is.

Thomas, who is more friendly than I, hold out his hand to the newcomer. "I'm Thomas. Trust me, England isn't all that different than it was a century ago, let alone a decade and a half."

The man smiles. "I'm glad to hear that."

I walk away, murmuring some vague excuse as I pass. Life will be different back in England, but for me, it shall be for a different reason. I had wanted to go back, but now I'm not so sure. Stay or go, I'll always be a slave in some way. When we reach England, I'll once more be a slave under the curse of the time. I shall never be free with the laws of this world, where gender makes someone unequal, undeserving of rights.

If I had stayed, I would've always been a slave to my own mind, wondering about my family, my friends, but most of all, I would be living a lie. And Thomas. He doesn't deserve to be tied down to someone like me. A criminal, a liar, a woman….what am I? I was Arielle. I was living a lie. I still am, but I don't know how to reverse what I have done. I'm not even sure if I want to. I don't' know what I want.

A/N I admit it. I stole a character from another fandom. Kudos to anyone who can tell me who it is and what fndom he/she is from! ;)