Note: LE GASP! Can it be?! Chapter 7 is finally up?! Catie did not die?! Indeed, it is FINALLY up! I am SO sorry I have not updated in weeks. I got so caught up in school work that I did not have time to write. But here it is: Chapter 7. It's not as great as I hoped it would be, but maybe you guys will think otherwise. Enjoy! Chapter 8 will be up ASAP! I promise!! Please review!

Chapter 7

It was nearly a quarter 'til one in the morning when Ruth, Rose, and Cal stepped onto the dimly light boat deck. For an emergency, there were few people outside. Rose wondered where they all could be. The ship was sinking for God's sake!

Ruth could easily see why hardly anyone was outside. It was freezing and more than half past midnight. Who in their right mind would have a lifeboat drill in the middle of the night? She did not see the logic. Of course, she did not fully understand the circumstances.

Cal led the way to a little group standing near the edge of the ship. There, Second Officer Lightoller was trying to muster up enough women to launch lifeboat number seven. However, none of them wanted to go. They, much like Ruth, did not see the need to float out to sea and sit there in the freezing air until it was safe enough to come back to the ship. They'd rather stay behind with their husbands, where it was nice and warm.

Suddenly, a rocket shot up into the sky and emitted white sparks. A signal for help. Half the crowd looked up in awe, thinking it was some sort of a firework show. Rose, however, looked up in fright. White sparks; a signal for help. It had to be true: Titanic was sinking. How could people be so blind? The ship was tilting forward and she could have sworn she felt it listing to the starboard side. How could they stand here like fools, pretending that everything is okay?

The few women that decided to leave said their final farewells to their husbands before clambering into the lifeboat. The group was getting smaller and smaller. Rose, Ruth, and Cal were getting closer to the boat. Rose looked around, wondering where Mr. Andrews was. She couldn't leave knowing he was still behind.

At the front of the little group stood Molly Brown. She was helping Lightoller get women into the boat, giving them reassuring words as they stepped inside. Rose swallowed hard when they finally reached the boat.

"Come on, Ruth, it's your turn," Molly announced.

"We're leaving now?" Ruth questioned. "I left my broach in my stateroom. I must have it! With the way this ship is someone is bound to waltz right in and steal it." She turned to leave, but to her surprised Cal grabbed a hold of her arm to stop her.

"Stay here, Ruth," Cal said firmly. His commanding voice didn't surprise Rose, but the fact that he was trying to save her mother did.

Ruth stared up at Cal, debating whether to go or board the boat. "Oh, all right. I hope these things won't get too crowded. Do you know if they will be seated according to class?" she asked Molly as she climbed into the boat. "I will never dare sit beside a steerage passenger."

"Shut up, Mother!" Rose snapped. Ruth looked back, startled that she would act in such a manner. "Don't you understand what's going on? The ship is sinking. The water is well below freezing and there will not be enough boats. Half of the people are going to die."

Cal sneered, "Not the better half."

Rose wished she could smack him right then and there. How could he say such a thing in a time like this? It was true. Half of the people were going to die. It wasn't just the poor who were going to die, but half the men as well. Lightoller was not letting any men on his boat at all. Does that mean men couldn't get on any boat? Even Mr. Andrews, the builder of the ship? If any man could survive, it should definitely be him.

Mr. Andrews. . .It was then that Rose realized he wasn't around. Where did he go? She hadn't seen him since they met on the Grand Staircase. Where did he disappear off to? Was he okay? Had he already taken a boat and gotten off to safety? She had to find it.

"Alright, Rose, it's your turn, darlin'," Molly announced.

Rose stepped back.

"Rose," Cal snarled through gritted teeth."Get into the boat!"

"There's no time to play around, Rose," Ruth said. "Get into the boat."

Rose stood there, motionless. She stared her mother down sternly, then said, "Goodbye, mother." She turned and began to walk away.

Cal grabbed a hold of her wrist before she could get far and wrapped her back to face him. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Get off of me," Rose snapped in an angry, low tone. She tried to pull out of his grip. Cal kept fighting back, not daring to let go. "Get off!"

Cal stopped fighting. "You're going to him? The Ship Builder?" He gave a small laugh, not believing this. "You whore! You are my fiancé, and as my fiancé you are bound to me. "

"I am bound to no one, Cal," Rose retorted. "Especially to a dirty bastard like you." She spit in his face and when he let go of her wrist she ran like her life depended on it. He did not dare to chase her. Her mother called for her, but Rose did not dare turn back.

"Mr. Andrews! Mr. Andrews!" Rose ran up and down every first class corridor, trying to figure out where he would be. He was no where to be found. He couldn't have possible left already, could he? Rose had set her mind on finding him. She would stay as long as she had to just to find him, even if that meant staying until the ship sank.

It seemed like hours had passed as she looked around the ship. Why did it have to be so complicated? She was afraid she would never find him. Finally, she decided to check C-Deck, a place she had yet to look. She ran down the corridor, shouting his name as she ran past confused passengers.

Mr. Andrews was somewhere along the ship, trying his best to alert all the passengers to head to the deck immediately. As he searched the corridors, he couldn't help but wonder if Rose had made it off all right. He truly cared for her and would not be able to bear the fact that his ship–his pride, his joy–had killed her. It was hard enough knowing that some fifteen hundred people were already condemned, but thinking of the possibility that Rose might be one of them was even harder.

"Is anyone in here?" Mr. Andrews called as he peered into a first-class stateroom. Nobody. He turns to go to the next stateroom and sees Rose running toward him. He was so happy to see that she was all right.

"Mr. Andrews, thank God!" Rose gasped, trying to catch her breath. She grabbed a hold of him. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

"What?" Andrews asked confused. "Why are you still here? You have to get to a boat! Quickly!"

"No!" Rose stubbornly replied. "I'm not leaving without you."

"Rose, this is nonsense. The ship will be gone within the hour. You have to get off before all the lifeboats are gone."

"I already told you," Rose firmly stated, "that I am not stepping foot off this ship without you." She paused for a second. She could feel her heart beating against her chest. She spoke those three words once again, they ones that are so simple yet so difficult to say: "I love you."

Frowning, Mr. Andrews pulled her off to the side. "Rose, you have to understand that we cannot be together. I am nearly twenty years your senior. I am too old for you. At at home there is a wife and beautiful child waiting for me. I cannot stray from my family."

Rose stared up at him, puzzled. "How can you say that we cannot be? Mr. Andrews, I love you!"

Sighing, Mr. Andrews replied, "Rose, you are like a daughter to me. I love you too, but only as a daughter. That is all you will ever be."

Taken aback, Rose asked, "How can you say that? How can you say that after the time we spent together? That is sick!"

"That should never have happened," Andrews apologized. "I'm sorry if I led you on. It's just. . .you have mystified me. I was so wrapped in you that I lost all sense of being. It was as though I couldn't remember who I was or what I was doing. Rose, I'm sorry, but you have to understand that we cannot be, considering the circumstances. I wish you could see that."

"I wish you could see that I love you," Rose cried, her eyes wet with tears.

"I'm sorry." Mr. Andrews reached out to comfort her, but she just shook her head and backed away from him. How could he be saying this? How could he say that he loved her one minute and the next say she was like his daughter? What the hell was going on in his sick, perverted mind? "I cannot believe you," Rose muttered. "You're sick! You're a sick bastard just like the rest of them! I knew you were too good to be true."

Rose turned and began to walk away.

"Rose, wait!" Mr. Andrews called. He began to walk after her, but when she heard his steps behind her she began to run. He tried to chase her, but he just wasn't in the shape to be running after her. Reluctantly, as hard as it was for him, he let her go.

Tears flooding down her rosy cheeks, Rose ran all the way back to her stateroom on B-deck. She slammed her door shut, locked it, and sat on the edge of her bed. She still couldn't piece the puzzle together. Why? Why did he lead her on like that? She loved him more than anything. How could he not love her back? His kiss seemed so passionate, so loving. How could he say it meant nothing?

Rose laid down on her bed, hiding her face in her silk pillow. She cried, wishing she could stay there until the water finally took her down with the ship.

That bastard! she thought. That bastard...I still love that bastard.