Written by Alexa Jay
Based on some situations originated by James Cameron.

"It’s not up to you to save me, Jack."

"I know. Only you can do that."

Rose let these words run through her head all day. Perhaps she had been a bit too harsh with Jack. She liked him, after all, and his feelings had to be respected. He obviously cared for her deeply, even though she had just known him for a short time. There was just an aspect of his make every day count lifestyle that she admired so much. Don’t think. Just do it.

Rose was abruptly interrupted in her thoughts when a sharp rap came upon her door. Gracefully, she got up from her dressing table and crossed the room to the door, and she opened it to see Cal standing in the doorway, looking suave and classy in his suit and with his hair slicked back. A cigarette hung loosely from his fingertips. Rose mustered a weak smile and presented it to him.

"Darling," she spoke, her voice soft, but tinted with sadness. "I was not expecting you. What do you need?" Rose asked, adjusting the pearl choker that she wore around her neck and motioning Cal in. "Did Mother send you?" she inquired again. When was her mother going to learn that she was old enough to make her own choices--no matter how hard they might be?

Cal stepped into her room. "No reason." he told Rose, putting his hands on her shoulders and turning her so they were face-to-face. He touched her pearl necklace. "Why are you not wearing the diamond I bought you? It would look so stunning, overpowering over all of your bad qualities."

Rose held back a look of disgust. Cal would always be Cal, a greedy pig who only loved two things--himself and money. "That’s the point, Cal. It’s too overwhelming. I feel as if it weighs me down, preventing me from moving," she said shortly, brushing a piece of her flaming red hair out of her eyes, which were focused up at her fiancé.

"Ah," Cal said, snapping his fingers. "You’ve been seeing him again, haven’t you? It sounds like some of his Bohemian philosophy. I told you that I do not want you to be near him again, Rose." He lowered his face slightly, so it was angled straight at hers. Jealousy raged in his black eyes.

"It’s none of your business if I’ve seen him or not," Rose said, turning away from him. "And if you’re going to refer to Jack, call him by his name." She stormed away from him, opening the door and slamming it behind her. She kept walking down the hallway, and made a few quick turns when she saw Cal pop his head out the door and look in different directions.

Once she was far enough away, Rose broke down and cried. Why was it that she could not be happy? With all of her heart and spirit, she wanted to love Cal. It would make things so simple. But it seemed in her life, particularly with the men in her life, nothing could ever be simple. The man she wanted to love, she couldn’t, and the one she needed to love, she couldn’t get the courage mustered to tell.

She wiped away her tear, standing up from where she had sat down in the floor. Rose knew what she had to do, but first she found her mother to tell her not to expect her at tea--she wasn’t feeling well. After she had done that, she went down to where the third class deck was. She looked around for the familiar flash of golden brown hair, but found none.

"Are you looking for someone, lass?" an Irishman asked Rose, reaching out to tap her on the shoulder. He was short and stocky, but had a boyish look about him. She deducted she could trust him for the moment, just so she could find him.

"I’m looking for Jack--Jack Dawson," Rose said, a look of urgency passing through her light blue eyes. The Irishman soon pointed her in the direction of the stern of the ship. She thanked him, and soon hurried on her way.

"Hello, Jack. I changed my mind. They said you might be up here--"

The End.

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