CHANGES
Prologue
June 28, 1998
Ruth DeWitt-Bukater smiled at her middle
child, her daughter, twelve-year-old Rose. The girl sat on a folding chair,
perched next to the table on which Ruth was currently placing containers of
food. It was a beautiful day in late June and the DeWitt-Bukaters were having
their annual summer picnic with many of their friends, family, and colleagues.
That included her husband's childhood best friend and his family--the Dawsons.
It was ironic, really, the two of them. Both had been born and raised in St.
Paul, Minnesota, by single mothers, both went to Harvard and were currently
running their own law practices. They both married early, within a month of
each other, their wives both pregnant with their first child at the time. And
most ironic, she supposed, was that both families had seven children, each the
same age as another in the other family. They all got along extremely well, all
except their middle children. Jack Dawson and Rose had hated each other from
the first glimpse. There were constant arguments between the two of them. And
to make matters worse, both of them were practical jokers, pulling prank after
prank on each other, the next always worse then the last.
"Why do you always invite them?"
Rose asked, as she watched the Dawson clan walk towards them.
Ruth turned towards the direction of the
family. "Don is your father's best friend. You know that. And you might
actually have fun if you and Jack would get along."
Rose scrunched up her nose. "Jack Dawson
is a royal pain in the ass, and I would rather stick needles in my eyes than
spend the day with him. I'm going to see if Ashley's here yet," she said,
hopping off her chair and stomping away.
Ruth shook her head and went to greet her
friends.
*****
"Jack, watch where you're going,"
Elaine Dawson scolded her son as they made their way down the hill to the park.
Jack rolled his eyes. "No. Maybe I'll
hurt myself and have to go to the hospital. Then I won't have to spend the day
with HER."
"Jack, really. She's not that bad. I
really wish the two of you would stop all this nonsense and become
friends."
"Ha," Jack scoffed before running
ahead to catch up with his best friend, Simon.
*****
Rose rolled over onto her stomach to glare at
her two older sisters. "I'm not playing if he is," she said firmly.
Thirteen-year-old Rebecca rolled her eyes. It
was the same thing every year. When everyone gathered together to play a game
of volleyball, Rose would refuse to play if Jack did, and vice versa. It was
getting old. "Oh, come on. You can be on the opposite team and kick his
ass."
"As thrilling as that sounds, I'll pass.
I'd still have to look at his ugly hide the entire time, and that's definitely
something I can do without!"
Fifteen-year-old Tiffany groaned. "He's
not ugly. If I were three years younger..."
Rose sat up and made gagging sounds. "I
wish you were three years younger! I'd much rather hang around David then
Jack," she said, referring to the second eldest Dawson.
Rebecca shrugged. "Fine, sit here and be
a stick in the mud. We're going to play!" she announced. "Come on,
Tiff."
Rose watched as her sisters ran to join in
the game and sighed. Jack was ruining her summer. Everywhere she and her best friend
Ashley Morrison went, there he and Simon were. Although that probably wasn't
really his fault. Simon followed Ashley around like a puppy and Knollwood,
Minnesota, wasn't exactly a large town. But still, couldn't Simon find
something better to do? Shrugging her thoughts away, Rose closed her eyes and
tried to relax.
Suddenly a shadow came over her and she
opened her eyes to see Jack standing above her. "What the hell do you
want?" Rose grumbled.
"My father made me come over here to
keep you company."
"I don't need company. Go away."
"And get yelled at by my dad? No
thanks."
Rose rolled her eyes. "Well, then, you
stay here. I'm leaving," she said, getting up.
"What's your problem?"
"What?" Rose whirled around.
"What's your problem? I like you as much
as you like me, but why do you always have to be such a bitch?"
"Did you just call me a bitch?"
Rose demanded, glaring at him.
Jack gave her a cocky smile. "Just
telling the truth. You must have a constant case of PMS or something."
Rose's eyes went large. "How dare you!
You're the one with a problem. Haven't you ever heard of being a
gentleman?"
"I'll be a gentleman the day you act
like a civilized human being instead of a stuck up, prissy, spoiled brat!"
Jack retorted.
Unable to contain her rage, Rose's hand flew
out and slapped Jack clear across the face. And with a satisfied smirk, she
turned to leave. "Rot in hell, Dawson."