Authors: Leen Elle
Gail, meanwhile, crept away and slipped downstairs. She swung open Nathaniel's door to find him hidden behind a large newspaper.
"Catching up on your current events, hmm?" she asked, her arms crossed against her chest.
He lowered the paper with a confused smile, "I'm surprised to see you back so soon."
"Well you were so sure that you wouldn't see me on my birthday I thought I'd prove you wrong."
"So you've come down purely for spite?"
"Precisely."
He grinned, "I see. Well, then shall I wish you a happy birthday again?"
"If you wish."
"Happy birthday Gail.
Fifteen years old now, I suppose?"
"Actually no, I wasn't born until ten o'clock at night so I've still got a few hours to go."
Nathaniel shrugged, "Close enough."
"Did you enjoy your supper tonight?"
"Not especially."
"You don't like anything, do you?"
"No, I'm just very particular about things."
"You mean you're picky?"
"I'm not picky, I'm particular."
"Same thing."
Gail sat down in the stiff wooden chair near his bed, "How can you be reading a newspaper, anyway?"
"A little bird flew it over," Nathaniel chuckled.
Gail rolled her eyes.
"No, they're actually rather old papers. From about a month ago, I suppose. When you're as bored as I am sometimes something as dull as rereading old papers can be interesting," he said, and then he ordered rather rudely "Hand me that cup."
"You haven't said the magic word," Gail replied, a sparkle in her eye.
"Don't be a child," Nathaniel mused, "Just hand me the cup. I'm thirsty."
"I don't hand things to rude little boys."
"I'm three years older than you are!"
"And yet you act as though you're two. Be grateful, for God's sake. Say please! It's not that difficult, really."
"Just hand me the stupid cup!
It's
not that difficult, really."
"You're a spoiled, selfish, ungrateful prat, Nathaniel West! It's no wonder you've never had any friends. Being sick makes for a good excuse, but I think deep down you know why you don't have any companions. No one wants to be around a silly boy who wants everyone to feel sorry for him and is constantly ordering everyone around. So if you want your stupid cup get it yourself!" she shouted, moving the cup from where it sat on the table beside her to the very edge, furthest from Nathaniel. And with that she stormed out of the room.
She stood outside his door a few moments, partly to catch her breath after the outbreak and partly to hear if he was actually going to retrieve his precious cup himself. She heard him mumbling under his breath and when the bed springs squeaked she guessed he was leaning over to get it. It really was quite far away from him, so she realized he must be struggling with it.
Suddenly, Gail heard a loud crash.
She entered the room to find that Nathaniel had tumbled to the floor. The table beside him had toppled over causing the cup upon it to shatter and its contents to spill.
Nathaniel was lying on the ground in his pajamas, trying to lift his weak body off the floor but failing miserably. Charlie had told the girls that Nathaniel's body was very frail, but Gail had no idea it was this bad. Nathaniel couldn't even get to his feet. He'd begun to curse beneath his breath, having no idea that Gail was in the room.
"I'm sorry," said Gail, "Are you alright? Do you need some help?"
She came to his side, but he pushed her away, "I'm fine! I'm fine! I don't need your help!" But he obviously did. When she offered him a hand, he slapped it, but his muscles were so weak it didn't even hurt like he'd meant it too. "Get away from me!" he screamed, "I'm fine! Just get away!"
Gail bit her lip unsurely; she'd never meant for this to happen. She'd only wanted to teach him a lesson. Although she felt bad and wanted to help him up, she knew he didn't want her to. He was embarrassed, she suddenly realized. He was embarrassed for a girl to see him so weak, so frail,
so
helpless.
"Get out!" he screamed again, his deep gray eyes ablaze with fiery.
Gail slowly backed out of the room, her mind racing. She then ran up the stairs as fast as she could to find Charlie, hoping he might be able to help Nathaniel up.
She felt terrible, knowing it was all her fault, and yet, she still felt that he should have been more polite about it all. It was hard to know how she should feel. Her heart felt sorry for poor Nathaniel, as she thought of him lying helpless and embarrassed on the floor, but her pride said she'd done the right thing and that he deserved it.
"If only we could send letters from this old ship," Mary sighed as she scrubbed a plate clean and handed it over to Sara, "I'm dying to hear from Ethan."
Sara nodded as she dried the dish and put it away, "He and Brook must have arrived in Brighton by now. I suppose they're already attending classes."
Mary and Sara were taking their turn washing the dishes after supper. The girls worked in shifts, so tonight the eldest were doing the dishes while Nora, Emy, and Gail enjoyed themselves up on deck.
The kitchen was a rather small room located beside the dining room, and it contained only some counter space, a few crates of preservatives, shelves and cabinets full of dishes, a single chair, and the sink at which the two sisters now stood. They wore aprons and had tied back their hair to keep it from getting in their way.
"I wonder if he's thinking about me at this very moment," Mary pondered, dunking a bowl deep into the murky water and washing it with an old rag.
"Of course he is," Sara laughed, "He's mad about you!"
Mary grinned, "Well I should hope so!"
The bowl was handed to Sara, who rubbed it dry and set it in the cabinet just beside her. She tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ears and hopped on top of the counter beside the sink while Mary finished washing a few mugs and some silverware.
"Have you thought about the wedding at all?"
"Of course!"
Mary replied, "All girls dream of their wedding day," she paused to hand a few dishes to Sara, "I can't wait to pick out the dress and the veil and the napkins and . . ."
"The napkins?"
"Oh yes! And the silverware too! Everything just has to be perfect! It's a shame I can't get started right now- there's so much to do!"
"Don't get too excited. We've still got more than two months left."
"I know, I know, I'm not," Mary sighed, "When do you think you'll be getting married?"
Sara shrugged, "How should I know? When I'm in love, I suppose."
Mary bit her lip and looked down, continuing to wash the dishes with a funny expression upon her face.
Her sister didn't appear so amused, "What's wrong with you?"
Mary rolled her eyes, "Oh when are you going to stop being so clueless?"
"What in the world are you talking about?"
"If only you could see . . ." Mary sighed. She looked up with a smile and gushed, "You and Brook are just
perfect
together,
why
can't you see that?"
Sara jumped back onto the floor and sat down in the chair in the corner, "Why do you always have to bring this up? I've told you time and time again that I . . ."
"But don't you ever want to get married, Sara? Don't you ever want to know what it's like to be in love?"
"I don't love Brook and I'm never
going
to love Brook so you really need to give up on this hopeless idea. I don't
need
a matchmaker, thank you very much."
"I'm not saying you
need
one, I just think it'd be nice if you'd found a man you could be happy with for once. You can't deny that you enjoy being around him."
"Well I never said that. He's a very nice man and a wonderful friend, but you can't
make
yourself fall in love."
"I know. I just thought that perhaps if you gave him a try, you might find that you'd been wrong . . . I only want you to be happy, Sara."
"Well you've a strange way of showing it," Sara smiled.
They continued washing the dishes in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds being the water splashing up against Mary's arm, the scrubbing of the dishes, and the squeak of the cabinets as Sara put things away. Mary kept glancing over at her sister with a displeased expression.
"It's just a pity that you two can't see it . . ." She sighed, "
Ethan
agrees with me. He's been trying to convince Brook for months, if you wanted to know."
"I'll find someone someday, you know. You don't have to start an entire operation or anything."
Mary grinned, "We just wanted to help. We think you'd be very happy if you just gave it
try
. . ."
Sara looked up with an amused smile, "So Ethan's trying to convince Brook to court me, is he? And I suppose Brook's been refusing?"
Mary appeared slightly abashed, "Well . . . yes."
Sara burst into a fit of giggles.
"I-I . . ." Mary stammered, feeling rather horrible that she had to admit Brook didn't want Sara either, "I mean, he . . . He obviously likes you a lot,
he
just doesn't see you in that way."
"Oh it's not that," Sara grinned, "I don't blame you or anything, I'm sure you've both done an awful lot of persuading. I just find it rather funny that he feels the same way as I."
Mary frowned, "Well that's not very funny. I think you're both being foolish."
"And
I
think you and Ethan are wasting your time."
Mary splashed a bit of water over at Sara, who simply smiled.
"Will you promise me one thing though?"
"What's that?"
"If you both find yourself alone even after the wedding has past, will you promise me that you'll at least give it a try?"
Sara raised an eyebrow at her sister, but after seeing the earnest expression upon Mary's face it wasn't quite so easy to refuse. For her sister's sake, she finally decided to surrender, "I suppose so."
Mary beamed, "I knew you'd agree! And you won't regret it, Sara. I know it. And even if you do, no harm was done, right?"
Sara nodded, "Right."
It was a rather chilly day, and the wind was blowing fiercely on deck. Gail sat up in the crow's nest with Rory, her hair flying around her face madly. Mary and Emy were downstairs in the dining room, sewing curtains to place over the portholes in their room, and Sara was reading quietly and contently in Charlie's office. Nora was on deck, wearing a warm sweater and leaning over the railing, when Sawyer walked over.