"What do you mean you dumped her?" Amelia raged. For the record, her leg was doing better as she paced around the parlor and limped. Occasionally she would stop to give her leg a recess, moaning each time. "You idiot! You ingrate! You pompous, air-headed, prissy, egotistical racist son of a gun! You, you, you…you turkey baster!" Jeffrey could only think of wincing at the names thrown at him. Well, except for her goofy euphemism at the end.

"Amelia?" He piped up.

"What?"

"May I say one word?"

"One word, Jeff. Spit it out and make it quick!"

"Amelia,—"

"That's your one word! You get to say nothing else!"

The brother and sister heard the door open. "What on earth?" Their mum exclaimed. "Whatever's the meaning of all this?"

"Mr. Anti-Yank ditched his girlfriend classmate." Amelia grumbled, pointing a finger at Jeffrey.

"Anti-Yank? Amelia, what are you saying?" Mrs. Hawkinson.

"Jeffrey found out his girlfriend is an American."

"Girlfriend? Amelia…" Jeffrey gawked.

"I said you get to say nothing else." Amelia retorted.

"Well, guess what, Amelia? I am going to say something. Miss Campbell wasn't a girlfriend in any way. She was just a classmate in my studies at Northampton."

"Then what was with the dancing at Barb's?"

"I've given my answer. And for one thing, what was with the dancing with Edward?"

"He was just a friend."

"That's what I'm saying about Miss Campbell."

"And for the record, ever since he mentioned me being (in a high pitched voice) his girl, (returns to normal voice) we've been through. I'm quite happy with myself. Not only for staying committed to my vow and turning poor Mister Eddie down but also for being smarter than you are. You may know things that even Einstein never knew, but at least I'm sixteen and not racist rather than almost twenty-three and sticking my nose up at certain people!"

"Amelia, that's enough." Mrs. Hawkinson said before her enraged daughter could continue her rant. "And sit down before your leg festers up again. Besides, dinner's on its way."

Jeffrey dashed up the stairs to the refuge of his desk where he could keep his mind focused on his works rather than his sister chewing on him. As for "dumping," as Amelia put it, well,…he didn't actually dump Charlotte.

They never spoke to each other again after that day. His feelings toward her race and his disappointment plus her shame and her respect of his standards separated them. Thankfully, he wasn't rude and tried to avoid eye contact with her. Throughout their lessons, even if they danced together as partners, they acted as if they never knew each other. Like they had never met at that tram shelter. Like they had never had those discussions at the campus and at various spots throughout the city of Northampton. Like they had never danced that night. Like he had never shared his inventions and concepts. Like she had never confessed.

~Northampton Campus—Girl's Dorm—The weekend before Fall Term 1955~

Though she had never lied, Charlotte was learning the consequences for her way of portraying her life. She returned to the quiet person she was when she arrived in England four years ago. She had received her Bachelor's degree last summer and was continuing onto her Master's of Arts. The only person she spoke to most of the time was Allison when they were together in their dorm room.

"I don't understand it, Allison," Charlotte said under her breath, sitting on her bed with her legs up to her torso and gently rocking herself. "I've confessed it all, I said I was sorry, yet I still feel like…well just awful."

"Have you talked to him ever since?" Allison asked, brewing herself a cup of tea.

"Mm-mm." She shook her head.

"I don't know what to say, Charlotte. And I'm sorry I don't."

"It's alright, Al."

"You want some tea?" Allison asked as she pulled out a cup off a small shelf on the wall.

"No thanks. My parents already know what happened, and as usual I received a nice little lecture from them. The good thing is sometimes you can always build back up again what's been broken down."

"I know. It's so awful that building up takes longer than tearing down."

"Yep. The world would be a better place with vice versa."

Poor Charlotte. It seemed there were only two choices—One: hope and see her way through to the good awaiting her. Two: let go and go on with life like nothing happened.

Right now, it looked like there was no point in hoping for and believing something that might never come to pass. She remembered her grandma once saying that faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen. Sorry, Grandmum, Charlotte thought. With how bleak this is, there's no way.

Getting through the storm she was facing would take time but thankfully it would all be over soon. Letting go would take a while as well but leave her with a small scar in her heart that would probably never heal. Marrying another man and raising children would take her mind off of it but not all the time.

She held her head up and tried to muster a smile for the faces she saw in the ceiling texture. Two more years at Northampton and she would be free. She would no longer have to face him and suffer grey days for doing so. However, the smile died while she thought of him. If the circumstances the Brit and the American were both now facing wouldn't let them be together in the years to come, she would wish the happiness and abundance of the world.

~The same night…~

A series of moans and a steady thumping coming from the staircase caught his attention. Amelia stood at the top of the stairs, huffing like she had run a marathon yet straightening up and glaring like a villain ready to wreak revenge.

"Amelia, please. Don't give me that look." Jeffrey said while tinkering with an old soup can and a pair of pliers and trying to ignore her glinted eyes.

"Hmph!" She marched to his bed, sat down, and folded her arms across her chest.

"And please. I beg you; after dinner, no more crawling up and down the stairs."

"Hmph!"

"Really? How many times do we have to tell you? I only ask this because you're my sister and I'm concerned about you."

"Well, that's very nice of you, Jeff." She snapped sarcastically. "I may be handicapped but I'm not that handicapped. And you heard me earlier; as long as you don't speak to her I'm not speaking to you."

"Amelia, you know we've already been through this."

"Well, at least she told you the truth rather than having somebody else to tell it for her. Do you hard that is? To gather up the courage to go up to someone and give a big confession without being put on the spot? Even when it comes to the fact that you might be clobbered for it? Huh? I may not be there to do it in person, but I give her a standing ovation for that." She stood up while clapping only to grab her leg and gasp. "Ow…"

"Amelia, just sit down." Jeffrey sighed aggravated. His sister folded her arms but refused to sit back down. Her eyes shot open as she bit down on her lower lip until she started whimpering and finally dropped back onto her perch.

"Alright, alright." She grumbled. Everything was silent for the next few minutes except for the clank-clank of the crowbar against the soup can and Amelia's loud breathing. "Okay, mister, listen up. You heard my vow, right?"

"Which vow? You have several of them."

"I'll never marry, remember? How do you think I became through with Edward? Since I'm never marrying, I have nothing to do but marry off my siblings. Mildred's off with two kids of her own, so you're on my list."

"Amelia, I'll choose whom I'll marry and whether I'll marry or not."

"I guess you'll want someone who likes what you're doing. She did, right?" It was apparent our tomboyish invalid wasn't giving up.

"Miss Campbell deceived me about her life. I can't trust what she said about my interests."

"Well, what about—"

"Amelia!" Jeffrey stood up, fists clenched and eyes staring down at her. "That is enough." He groaned in frustration and sat back down.

"You should know well that I'm just as rude and brash as, as you put it, any A—"

"Amelia, what did I just say?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm shutting up." Without hesitation, she had a solution to her rebuttal. "Jeff?"

"What?" He growled.

"I heard the deceptive Miss Campbell will finish her classes when she completes her Master's degree June 1957. Once she graduates, you probably won't see her anymore."