A FIRE IN THE WIND
Chapter Twenty-Four

Rose stood in the corner of the room, trying to find Allison. It was about two hours into the shower, and her mother's friends were finally starting to leave her alone. It was difficult to stifle her emotions, but Rose comforted herself by constantly reminding herself that this would be the last time she would have to be the emotionless, arrogant lady her mother wanted her to be.

Rose sighed in relief as she saw Allison talking to some close friends from school, who where supposed to be Rose's bridesmaids for the wedding ceremony. Rose tried to make eye contact with Allison, but failed, so she joined the group.

"Oh, my! Look who's here. Rose DeWitt Bukater; all grown up and almost married. Can you believe it?" joked Rebecca, one of Rose's close friends from school.

"If I recall correctly, Rose was just as immature as us growing up!" added Diane, another friend of Rose's.

Rose laughed along girlishly. "I'm afraid I'm just as immature as I was when I was eight! Things don't change, yet you look at me as if I were an old maid."

"On the contrary," Rebecca replied. "Seventeen is a young age to be getting married at."

Rose shook her head. "I'll be eighteen in June. I haven't seen you girls in ages. How long has it been?"

Allison eyed Rose and nodded, referring to the plan.

"I'd say two months, more or less," Diane estimated.

Rebecca shook her head. "No, it was longer. I'd say it was about three months. Remember? It was that day in early February. Rose had just invited us to be the bridesmaids at her wedding!"

Rose nodded, ready to leave to stupidity of the conversation. "Listen, Ali and I have to talk. So I'll be seeing you later, I guess."

The two smiled, and they left Rose and Allison alone.

There was a moment of silence between the two friends. Neither one wanted to make the mistake of talking too loud, or making any obvious gestures. The room was much too crowded for that. Rose led Allison to a tranquil corner of the room. Rose sighed in relief when she noticed that there was no one close enough to hear anything that they said.

"I talked with Jack," whispered Allison.

"Thank you so much!" replied Rose, delighted.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes," replied Rose. "As ready as I could ever be."

"I'll see you off, then," Allison said, looking down at the ground, melancholy.

The walk across the room was abnormally quiet. It seemed that all the conversations that were taking place had stopped, or was it all Rose's imagination? She looked at her mother for one last time. Ruth was diligently in conversation with two elder women, around her age. Rose sighed sadly. Her mother would always be a lady of society, nothing more. Ruth DeWitt Bukater would never change. She wasn't capable of change. Rose had hoped she could when she was a child. Her mother was better when her father was alive. Maybe Jon knew how to bring out the good side in everyone. He was one of those people, just like Jack.

Rose took one last glance around the front hall of her house. Hundreds of memories sparked into Rose's brain, all at once. Some were happy, most weren't. For the past nine years the only purpose this house had served to Rose was as a prison. Everything had seemed different when her father was alive.

The house had seemed, in an odd sense, more cheery when Rose's father was alive. Maybe it was just Jon's scent that had made everything seem so wonderful. With his death, the walls turned black, and the house grew dark and cold. And that was how it had remained to the date.

The two exited the house through the kitchen, and headed towards the alley. Allison looked over Rose's state. She looked inspired and eager to go. Allison saw so sign of reluctance in Rose whatsoever. Rose did look nervous, but excited, all at the same time. She was finally going to get away from the lifestyle that Rose had hated ever since she was a small child. She had thought it would never happen, but here she was today, about to run away with some exotic artist. Rose was about to get away. She was so lucky. Yet the thought crossed Allison's mind very often: if Rose could get away from this, then why couldn't she? Maybe things were a lot easier than they seemed. Rose leaned into a bush and picked up her suitcase. It was just as she had left it more than twelve hours ago.

"You know, I'm really going to miss you," Allison said, a few yards away from the alley.

"Oh, Ali!" replied Rose, giving her friend a hug. "We'll keep in touch, I promise. Maybe you could visit us sometime."

Allison nodded, glad that she had helped change her friend's life. "Of course, Rose."

They walked into the alley, to see Jack waiting for them.

Jack smiled, letting out his hand to Rose. "I've been waiting. I'm so glad you made it!"

Jack gave Rose a passionate kiss on the lips. He didn't want to admit it, but he was worried that Rose wouldn't show up.

Rose accepted his hand graciously. "Thanks to Ali."

Allison beamed. "Think nothing of it! It was simply for all those years of you being such a good friend. Really, you had better get going. Send me a letter from the outside world, would you?"

Rose let go of Jack's hand, to give her friend one last hug, and then rejoined Jack. "Ali, I will truly miss you!"

"Why will you miss her, Rose?" came a voice from inside Rose's backyard.

"What?" asked Rose, perplexed and a little scared.

"I said, why will you miss her?"

The figure of Victoria appeared from the gate.

Chapter Twenty-Five
Stories