"You're only left-handed, Charlotte," Allison reasoned. "Not dyslexic." Both girls were back in the dorm room and having a bit of free time before dinner.
"Well, in a way, yes. It is." Charlotte corrected. "You know when you write backwards and hold it up to a mirror, it looks perfect. Let's see...raise your hand." Allison raised her right hand as Charlotte raised her left.
"It does work like a mirror." Allison whispered. Charlotte smirked. "I also noticed you said little when I introduced you to my friends."
"Sorry about that." Charlotte looked down at her shoes. "I have the tendencies to be shy when I'm in a new environment."
"No, no, no, dear. That's fine. Some acquaintances I've made had the problem with turning red when they try to talk."
"And I haven't turned red, right?"
Allison laughed. "No, thank goodness."
Out of nowhere, Allison's eyes shot open and sparkled, looking as if they had turned a brighter color. The native British girl smiled widely and snapped her fingers. "Now there's an idea."
"What is it?" Charlotte asked.
"You're an American in an ocean of Brits, dear. And along with other Americans, you're going to stand out. I don't know if it's going to be harder finding someone to help you with your dancing. No offense, I'm just concerned."
"What about you? Have you even tried helping a left-hander?"
"My little brother's left-handed. When I tried to teach him a few dance steps in his direction, it didn't turn out well. Swollen bruised toes..." She sighed. "I'm sorry, Charlotte."
"Don't be sorry at all."
"Before I say any more, I was thinking of Jack Kendall. He's doing pretty well, but I don't want to get your...you know, American-ess, shown to the world. I don't know. Maybe if you-"
"Do what?" Charlotte interrupted before sarcastically putting on a British accent. "That I put on the role of a British girl because I've been so silent? And step up to some gentleman and say, 'Good day, my fine colleague. Could you please help me with my dancing?'" Allison froze.
"Charlotte, that was perfect! How did you do it?" Charlotte smiled sinisterly and continued her accent.
"I don't believe you know that my mum is a native of Hatfield, Hertfordshire, and moved to Pennsylvania shortly after the First World War. As being her daughter, I've the experience."
" But...that would be living a lie."
Charlotte returned to her normal American accent. "Come to think of it, it would be yet it wouldn't."
"How wouldn't it be?"
"I am British as you heard. A half-truth."
"That's right...half-American by your dad; half-British by your mum."
"Elementary, my dear Allison. My point exactly."
"Wonderful. Now to find you a partner...that's it! Fitzgerald Penniman!"
"Fitzgerald. He was the one wearing the purple sweater."
Charlotte raised an eyebrow.
"And that grayish-brown hair."
"Ah." A smirk joined the eyebrow.
"I don't know if it's true but there are rumors that he is...you know, both right and left handed."
"Ambidextrous?"
"Yes, that's what it is. Oh, Charlotte, this is going to be brilliant! Conartist Campbell!"
The next day...
"Hopeless!" Allison exclaimed, throwing up her arms. "Just hopeless! I'm sorry, Charlotte. Truly, I am."
Charlotte sat down on the bed and took off her shoes. A nice dark purple bruise covered a third of her left big toe, and oh, lands, did it hurt. She couldn't get ice not only because of the lack of icemakers but because of the European belief that ice is bad for you. She could only recall the memories of her mother refusing ice, no matter how hot it was. Oh, and the memories of constantly getting your feet stepped on by an equally shy nerd with a stuttering problem. One thing she really remembered him whispering was that the only reason for taking dance class was to impress this one girl he went to high school with and still loved. Poor fellow. She thought, sadly smiling.
Poor Allison. She felt like tearing her hair out and banging a newly bald head on a door. "I think we got the wrong person." She stared at the bruised toe nail. "The good news is the accent worked. You fooled everybody." She aired out a forced chuckle, trying to cheer up the situation.
"To tell you the truth,...Allison..." Charlotte began hesitantly. "Jack and I don't know each other; we haven't even seen each other before yesterday. So it wouldn't make a difference if we danced together."
"That's the one!" Allison again snapped a finger. "He's ambidextrous. He's your savior, Lottie!"
"'Charlotte,' please," Charlotte mumbled as she bored holes through her dorm mate's head at the sound of the nickname.
"Sorry about that."
"It's fine." Allison chuckled at the irony. "Just as a warning, only my parents can call me that."
"Yes, so what's the bee's knees about Jack?"
"Well, he's ambidextrous, like I just said. He does have a way with the ladies, though. I must say, Charlotte, he reminds me a lot of your America's Superman. Looking out for the well-being of others. Being ambidextrous is a rare ability."
"Yes, he's not bad looking. He may have his bit of pride."
"I'm not trying to match make. I'm only looking out for you."
"Good, 'cause I don't want or need a lover. I do appreciate you looking out for me. Thanks. You're still happy with the British Miss Campbell?"
"I love it. It's splendid!"
Charlotte smiled on the outside as well as the inside. She loved playing whom she picked. And she was about to do it some more.
Gotcha! I happen to be left-handed, so I deal with the cons of the "dyslexia." I do happen to know a couple ambidexters (don't know if that's word for them), that are sisters.