"It is like of angels to fly out of your arse as to getting in the likes of her"

Rose

Tiredness took over me quick enough after the incident that I didn't realize I had slept with the boy's sweatshirt on. Jack Dawson, if I recall. Last night's memories seem surreal now that is morning. Morning. I told him I would meet him at 10:15 at the Park Cafe. I turned on my phone and it read 9:46 Shit. I sprinted to the shower and changed before the clock read 10:06 then I headed out, hoping my mom and Cal wouldn't notice I was gone.

Jack

We were outside on the school's deck since 8:00 am for a welcome rally, which resulted in us getting drenched in color powder, water and sweat. When they called lunchtime I remembered i would meet Rose at the Park Cafe. I told the guys where I was heading, and they decided to come with me and explore the ship a little.

When we crossed the glass gates of the school it was a whole different world, the cruise was alive. A bunch of people going up and down, kids running, stores and restaurants covered by neon lights. I felt like I was inside a mall, good thing we had months to visit everything. When we reached the other side another glass doors led the way to the 'park' boardwalk. A fan of plants in the middle of everything, surrounded by a stone path and some wooden benches every 35 ft or so. I spotted the Cafe in the middle of some palm trees, were they real as well?

It was 10:14 when Tommy, Fabrizio, Helga, and I were looking through the menu. Fabrizio was thrilled when he found out Helga was on our team for the rally (and by thrilled i mean pissing his pants) but they seemed to get along by now, since she couldn't speak English very well, he'd been helping her.

The drinks arrived at the table not much later and I thought I might sketch a little to keep my mind off Rose and the fact that she'd have to put up with my smell. Tommy and I shared a booth while Helga and Fabrizio were in the booth front of us. I was sketching a couple of trees from the 'park', apparently entertaining Tommy, when this little girl approached our table.

"What are you drawing?" She asked

"I'm sketching those trees over there; do you like it?" I showed her the paper. Helga and Fabri were in their own world, but Tommy watched fondly my conversation with the toddler.

"They're pretty"

"Do you want to color them?" She happily nodded.

"Cora, don't bother the young man" an older man said, I'm guessing it was her dad

"She's not bothering me at all, we're coloring right? You're pretty good" she smiled at the praise

"Cora, we have to go now, say goodbye to Mr..."

"Jack, Jack Dawson, nice to meet you"

"Nice to meet you son, Bert and Alexandrea Cartmell, and this is our daughter Cora. Now, we have to get going, say goodbye to uncle Jack"

"Bye uncle Jack"

"Bye Cora" I waved back, when i turned back to the table, i found Tommy going through my portfolio.

"These are pretty good"

"Hey! Give me that, you're gonna get tea all over it"

"This is not strong enough" Fabrizio complained

"Ah, Italians and their coffee, you should've asked for an espresso mate" Tommy said, starting an argument that kept going for a few more minutes until Fabrizio stopped talking and turned pale white.

"No way" I heard Tommy whisper

"Jack" Fabrizio called. Wondering what was going on, I lifted my gaze and saw Rose walking towards our table. Why am i so nervous? My instincts immediately put me on my feet to greet her.

"Hello Jack"

"Hello again" this is awkward

"May i speak with you?"

"Yeah yeah" Tommy scooted over so she could fit in the booth alongside with us.

"In private?"

"Yeah, of course. After you" I recalled in my head Tommy's comment yesterday 'it is like of angels to fly out of your arse as to getting in the likes of her'. I waited for Rose to turn around and managed to give Tommy a slap in the arm. I saw out of the corner of my eye their jaws dropping before they bursted into a laughing fit.

Rose

"Here, thank you"

"You're welcome" He took his clothing and tried to make eye contact with me, but I couldn't possibly look at him, not after what happened yesterday...

This is awkward.

"Did you just escape a painting?" It was the best you could come up with, Rose? Really?

"This? Oh no, not today. The unicorn in my cabin got seasick"

Thank god he didn't think I was weird, and if he thought so, he didn't express it; the boy was completely covered in paint. Jack seemed like a really nice person to talk to, he made me feel very comfortable, he did what most guys didn't and that was listening. I really felt he was genuinely interested in what I had to say or actually wanted to hear what I thought.

"Well, Rose... we've walked around a mile around this park and chewed over how great the weather's been and how I grew up but... I reckon that's not why you came to talk to me, is it?

"I... i wanted to thank you for what you did, not only for lending me your sweatshirt, but for pulling me back"

"You're welcome"

"Look... I know what you must be thinking... poor little rich girl... what does she know about misery?"

"No. No, it's not what I was thinking... what I was thinking was, what could have happened to this girl to make her think she had no way out?"

We didn't know each other, but he made me feel like i could tell him anything and he wouldn't judge me "Well I... it was everything, it was my whole world and all the people in it. And the inertia of my life plunging ahead of me, powerless to stop it. Yesterday my boyfriend proposed to me, it is supposed to be the event of the year, all of Philadelphia Society will be there and all the while I feel like I'm standing in the middle of a crowded room screaming at the top of my lungs and no one even looks up"

"Do you love him?" He asked all of the sudden. No one had ever dared to ask me this... even myself.

"Pardon me?"

"Do you love him?"

"You're being very rude. You shouldn't be asking me this."

"Well, it's a simple question. Do you love the guy or not?"

"This is not a suitable conversation!"

"Why can't you just answer the question?" He grinned with a cocky look.

"This is absurd! You don't know me and I don't know you and we are not having this conversation at all. You are rude, and uncouth, and presumptuous and... I am leaving now" I shook his hand vigorously with every intention of avoiding the talk "Jack, Mr. Dawson, it's been a pleasure. I've sought you out to thank you, and now I have thanked you..."

"And even insulted me" Why hasn't he stopped smiling?

"Well you deserved it"

"Right"

"Right" ...and why can't i let go of his hand?

"I thought you were leaving"

"I am. You are so annoying" I ignored his fake laughing and started to walk away. "Wait! I don't have to leave. This is my part of the ship, you leave"

"Oh, well well well... now who's been rude?"

He had an answer for everything! Unbelievable. I spotted a portfolio in his hand, was he holding it the whole the time? I grabbed it while thinking of a good comeback. "What is this stupid thing you're carrying around? Are you an artist or something?" Curiosity led me to open it "These are rather good... they are very good actually..." I found the most realistic charcoal drawings I've ever seen in my life, did he draw all of this? I sat on a bench nearby so I could take a better look. He left the most explicit drawings at the end; very explicit I would say. I looked discreetly to see if anyone close was watching us and closed the portfolio a bit when an old man walked too close. I know perfectly that the human body is the most natural thing, but it's still a taboo for most people. "Jack, this is exquisite work"

"They didn't think too much of it in ol' Paris"

"Paris? Well well well... and these were drawn from life?"

"That's one of the good things about Paris... lots of girls are willing to take their clothes off"

"You liked this woman... you drew her several times"

"Well, she had beautiful hands, you see" Is that what guys call it now? Hands?

"I think you must have had a love affair with her"

"No no no! Just with her hands. She was a one-legged prostitute... see?"

He showed me another drawing of the same woman, she had one leg indeed. Lots of questions were going through my mind at the moment, why was he hanging around with prostitutes? Did he pay them? Did he had more than friendship with any of them? Where did he went? Was it really for the sake of the art or was he obsessed with the female body?

"She had a good sense of humor tho... and this lady..." he turned the page "...she used to sit at this bar every night wearing every piece of jewelry she owned, waiting for her long-lost love... they called her Madame Bijoux"

It wasn't an obsession, no. He really told me this story through his drawing; how beautiful, sharing everyone's stories through the paper.

"You have a gift Jack, you do. You see people"

"I see you"

I blushed, was it worthy to tell my story? "And?"

"You wouldn't have jumped"

I thought about it for a minute, maybe I wouldn't have. I didn't want to die, I was just tired of living, I didn't want to quit, I wanted to take a pause.

"Jack! Let's go!" One of his friends shouted from the other side of the boardwalk, saved by the bell.

"I have to go... I'll see you around?"

"Yeah"

"Take care, Rose" He squeezed my hand and left, leaving me with a shiver when he looked into my eyes and told me to take care, it was a very small token of love but still, it meant a lot. I watched him disappear behind the glass doors and then i walked back to my cabin, an orotund voice welcoming me.

"Sweetpea! I got us a good deal for the ring! Where were you? We already had lunch"

"Oh sorry... I was just... I wanted to explore the ship a little bit"

"Oh, but we could have gone together. Why are your hands stained with paint? Anyway, when we dock in New York we can start looking for rings. I also booked an engagement photoshoot on the Brooklyn Bridge"

"Oh... good, that's awesome"

"What's wrong? I thought you would be... happier?"

"I am happy, I just... I've felt nostalgic. That's all"

"I know something that could take your mind off of things..."

"Those hands Mr. Hockley" I have never been more grateful for my mother's interruptions.

"Sorry Miss DeWitt... oh, did you hear about our guest for dinner this evening?"

"I'm afraid not"

"My uncles must have thought I would tell you since I'm here... the foundation has offered a full scholarship to a student on the on-board school and he's having dinner with us"

"Lovely! I love charity galas" I rolled my eyes.

"I'm hoping you're wearing the Heart of the Ocean tonight?"

The famous Heart of the Ocean. It was a huge blue diamond of 56 carats, glittering with an infinity of scalpel-like inner reflections. It was once worn by Louis the Sixteenth and was known as the Blue Diamond of the Crown. When the French monarchy was disestablished in 1789, it disappeared and was presumed destroyed; during this time, it was cut to be smaller and fastened into the pendant it became to be in 1912. They called it 'Le Coeur de la Mer', The Heart of the Ocean. In Cal's words 'it was made for royalty, and we are royalty'. Frankly, I thought it was overwhelming.