?'s POV
I brushed the dirty blonde bangs out of my eyes as I sat up in my straw bed. Groaning at my achy muscles, I forced myself to stand.
"'Nother day, 'nother heartache," I muttered to myself as I straightened my pants and my chemise. Lucky for me, I found thick clothes. Some of the girls I hang around look like they wear Bible paper.
I could be like them. I could be earning money by selling myself and having a semblance of a life instead of helping schoolboys find their women. I couldn't help it; I laughed at Jehan after I left. He was never gonna find this girl. Least I could do was help out for a few months. I'll be there to cheer him up.
Mr. Jehan confused me. He was undoubtedly attractive and could have his pick of any girl. Why did he need this poetic dame?
I tied my boots haphazardly and left the Women's House, passing the whores that were getting ready for their day of work, or were already luring in a customer.
"Four in the mornin', Rosie? Doin' well!" I called over my shoulder to one of those that captured their prey.
"Hell yeah, silly Bea. I'm the luckiest lady in all of Paris!" She replied. And with a giggle, she disappeared into her room with her hungry gentleman.
Silly Bea? More like Silly Rosie. She was my best girl friend, and once she found I had nothing, she found a spot and an alias, at the least. Rosie was the giving type, and that's why I became friends with her. I was her charity case. But Bea was a nickname. I couldn't take it as a name now. Jehan was going to give me a name.
Exiting the house, I took a deep breath and smiled. Sure, my life was miserable, but I could at least be happy about it. I could read and write and breathe and walk; that's all that really matters. Gotta be grateful for what we've got, haven't we? Luckily, the streets were empty because of the time, so I could just relax.
"Hey Missy!" One of the street boys called to me with a grin. He was my age, thin, messy, and always smiling. We who spoke to him called him Eric, and those who didn't speak to him called him Just Another Rat.
He always called me Missy. When I thought back to the way we met, it makes sense; I was caught pick pocketing and the man called me missy. Before I was hauled to the police, Eric stopped the man, gave him his money back, and scolded me like I was his baby sister. Once the bourgeoisie left, he started to laugh. 'Good one, Missy!' He shouted at the time, still laughing. He assumed it was my name!
"Hallo, Eric!" I called back. "Off on another adventure with the guys today?"
He shook his head. "Naw, just hangin' 'round. How are the girls?" He fell into step and followed me in the direction of the central park.
I giggled. "Goin' strong like always."
"Sure is unfortunate." At this, I nodded sadly. Him and I knew many a lass that lost their dignity, virginity, love, and later, life because they were stuck bein' poor. Poverty is a slope, it only goes downhill. Climbin' back up is near impossible. But at least I have Rosie and Eric and Jehan.
Why was I even including him? He was just a man I was planning on "helping".
"You alrigh'? You're off in Queen Mab's world again," I heard Eric say. I shook my head and sighed. He put his arm around my shoulder and I leaned into him, grateful that he understood. He was there when I told him about Jehan and how I was going to help him.
"I'm meetin' Jehan up at the park. Come with me?" I looked up at him hopefully. He put on his usual grin and agreed. He put down his arm, and I continued to be amazed with him. "How are you not shiverin' in your shoes? Your clothes are so small!"
He rolled his eyes. "You're barely wearin' a shirt at all, yet you comment on my clothes? Silly girl."
I crossed my arms, somewhat wishing he'd put his arm around me again. That boy radiated warmth. Unfortunately, he didn't notice I was freezing and we sat at the park bench to wait.
An hour passed and a few couples came to the park, looking at the flowers and chattering in whispers; like they'd wake someone up if they spoke in normal tones. Eric and I just sat and waited.
"Girl! You're here!" Jehan, being awkward as ever, broke the hush as he raced toward the bench. His clothes looked like they were simply thrown on in pitch black, but he still had that air of grace he always carried with him. He was an awkward swan. It was positively...cute.
"Hallo, Mr. Jehan. How'd ya sleep?" I stood up to meet him and he wrapped me in a hug. I couldn't help my blush.
"Not very well; I was too busy thinking and writing."
"Whatcha thinkin' about?" I asked with raised eyebrows.
"Your name! We must come up with one you like."
Eric piped up. "Her name's Missy."
I turned back to him and shook my head. "It's not. I ain't got a name. That man just called me Missy 'cuz I'm a girl that caused trouble. He was just yellin'."
Eric's eyes widened in surprise. "I guess Missy's her nickname then? That's news t'me! I've been callin' you that for ten years."
I nodded and returned my gaze to a very confused Jehan.
"Who is that?" He inquired, nodding toward the gamin.
"A close friend o'mine. Jehan, meet Eric." The boy in question stood and shook hands with the poet.
"Well...now that everything is in order, we must find your name." He sat on the bench where I was originally and opened his notebook. He pulled a pencil out of his jacket pocket and poised it over the blank paper. "What names do you like?"
I laughed. "Quite the blanket statement you got here."
Eric shot off a couple ideas. "Norah? Isabel? Charlotte?"
Rolling my eyes, I sat on the ground without really caring how dirty it was, and accepted the fact I really wasn't getting out of this.
"Nah, too stuffy. How bout...Missy? I 'appen to like that nickname. Suits me just fine, I s'ppose."
Jehan sighed. "You could have any name in the world. And you just want to keep that one? Names have meaning."
"Well, what does Missy mean?" I asked rudely.
"It means you are a troublemaker. You use a name that is defiant. Anyone can call a girl 'missy' when she is in trouble. Why not something beautiful? You're pretty, so why not use a name to express it?" He blushed immensely, and my eyes got huge.
I simply inquired, "Why do you care?"
He shrugged. I turned to look at Eric, whose arms were crossed and he was looking away.
"I want Missy," I stated firmly. Jehan just smiled and said:
"I knew it."
I stood up and brushed off my pants then spoke, "Now we gotta look for yer lass. Any ideas?"
He handed me the letter. "I wrote myself a copy of the letter. I was thinking you could walk around and ask. I was going to do the same at the flower shop. Maybe you could work here, and then at noon, we could meet up and talk, then get lunch?"
I nodded, took the paper, and he left. Groaning, I flopped on the bench, kicked my legs onto the seat and laid my head on Eric's leg.
"This is a waste. Ain't no way he's gonna find her. Even if he does, he won't want her."
Eric sighed and tugged lightly on the bangs that were flopping into my eyes. He always does it when I'm distressed or upset; it calms me down for some reason. "You gotta tell him sometime. If he doesn't want her, he doesn't deserve her."
"You're the bestest friend I could ever get. Thanks, buddy."
He just nodded and wouldn't meet my eyes.
"Have I upset ya?" I sat up and stared at him quizzically.
"Naw. Let's just pretend to look for her."
"Why pretend? Let's just ditch and meet with 'im at noon, like he says?"
Eric put on his grin again, stood, and held his hand out. "Let's ditch, then!"
On our walk around the town, I thought aloud, "I'm such a bad helper. I'm supposed to help him."
"If ya feel so bad, tell him the truth 'bout the girl!" He could go from being happy to being mean in a snap.
"Whatcher deal?! You've been buggy all day!" I stopped and crossed my arms. He turned back and faced me, his face twisted angrily.
"All you talk of is that poet. You never talk t'me anymore!"
I tugged him by his shirt to the nearest alley, then replied, "I happen to like him! Why can't ya just be happy for me? I got a guy I took likin' to, and you won't stand for it! That's bloody nonsense."
He leaned back against the wall of the alleyway and looked away. "This li'l secret of yours is gonna get out to him. What'll he think?"
"That...he'll think that...I'm awful for keepin' it."
I couldn't deny it; once Jehan finds out, he'll never speak to me again. Eric was right. I just wish I could get them both to understand. Any way you slice it, I'll never make anyone happy. I don't deserve Jehan or my best friend.
"Missy, listen t'me. You can't keep this up forever. And I wanna help you. But..." He didn't complete his sentence, he just ran a hand through his wild brown hair and sighed.
"Naw, I get it. You don't want me to maybe fall in love with an upstandin' gentleman that can take care of me, you want someone t'be miserable and poor with you, goin' on adventures and pickpocketin'. I don't want this life and I don't want you!"
My eyes widened at the weight of my words. I didn't want my best friend of ten years. I wanted to give him and Rosie up for a man that may never love me.
"Missy...you don't want me? I thought...I thought we were frien's. We were here to help each other, 'member?" Shaking his head, he stormed off, a scowl etched on his face.
Dammit, Missy! I could write a book on how to lose your best friend in five minutes! I felt tears sting in my eyes and I sat against the wall. Eric was always there for me, and I threw him out like an old newspaper. All this drama caused because I just love Jehan. I love him, and I hurt everyone around me. I love Eric and I push him away. I'm stupid.
I refused to let my tears fall, and I ran back to the park. I walked around, asking women if they recognized the poem, they said no like I expected, and when the sun was high, I went to the flower shop. I leaned against the brick side of the building and kept my head down.
"Missy! There you are. Any luck?" Jehan strolled out of the flower shop and found me.
I shook my head. Thank god my bangs somewhat hid my brimming tears.
"Ready for some lunch?" Shrugging, I followed him to a café.
"Table for two, please." The Maitre d frowned as he looked upon me.
"Is it for you and...her?" He pointed to me, and Jehan nodded. "Unfortunately, it is against our policy to serve...street rats. You must take your charity elsewhere or eat alone."
Not caring to hear Jehan's reply, I turned on my heel and left. The tears I held in my eyes spilled over, and I continued to walk away. I was used to being turned away; it wasn't that matter that bothered me. The fact that it proved how opposite Jehan and I was bothered me. He was rich, I was nothing. He was healthy, my pale and swallow skin proved otherwise.
"Missy! Missy, wait!" I heard Jehan call behind me, and I broke into a run. I raced all the way to the Seine, and stopped on the bridge. I sat on the edge and watched the water as I caught my breath.
I couldn't believe how childish I was acting. Normal people aren't like this! They don't hurt their best friends and they don't run from café's and they don't cry over something like love.
Why did I choose Jehan over anyone? He was wealthy. I should be with a street kid.
On top of my childishness, the secret about the admirer was wearing down on me. I couldn't bear it much longer, and if Jehan comes, I shall-
"Missy! You gave me a scare!" Jehan had caught up. "Won't you come back? We can have lunch at my apartment." He put his hand on my shoulder and I shrugged it off.
"You don't understand. Jehan, I'm not gonna find yer lass. It's not possible."
He raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
"I know who wrote the damn thing!"
Ooh, cliffy. Lol I hope you liked it!