Wander

Rose Farren is a runaway. A refugee, if you like. She's a handful of painful memories tied together with a rucksack and a worn-out hoodie. She's been travelling for a year all around England, and planning to move onto Ireland to find the best chance of escape and maybe finding her father again. Does she have time to think of love during all this? Pssh, no. That is, until Jamie turns up...

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4. "Um, yeah, I'll, like... I don't know."

Jamie

Wander- Rose? - is in my bathroom right now, showering- she looked so happy when I offered her the chance to, it was sort of adorable- and I'm searching through my sister's old clothes. She left for boarding school when I was seven, and now she's in university. I don't remember her, much. But she was around Rose's age, so most of her clothes should fit. And I got Rose to agree to come to the bonfire with me. 

I pick up a dress and stand in front of the mirror, scrutinizing it. It's a light blue and modest, and I think it would suit her.

"So, you're wearing a dress to this thing too? I hope we don't clash." I hear her quiet, amused voice from behind me. I turn around, grinning. She's leaning against the door frame, her wet hair dripping onto the bath robe she's wearing. 

"Yes, you can borrow my bathrobe." I say sarcastically. "You're welcome."

"Oh, thanks." She says breezily, hiding her smirk with her hand as she takes the dress from me. "Wow, I haven't worn anything like this in years." She said as her hands travelled down the material. 

"You don't have to dress up, I just thought you'd like to." I shrugged.

"No, this is nice. Thanks, Jamie." She nods at me and smiles. "So, are you gonna leave or are you going to watch me get dressed? 'Cause that's pretty creepy."

I feel myself flushing. "Um, yeah, I'll, like... I don't know."

She laughs. "Aw, you're blushing. Get out, Jamie."

She throws a pillow at me and I catch it, grinning at her before leaving, closing the door behind me.

 

About ten minutes later she walks into the living room, twisting her hair out to dry it. "Do you like it?"

I look up from my book, and smile. "You look lovely, darling."

"You mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling." She mumbles the quote as she fixes her dress, staring at the mirror. "I don't know, it might look a bit better when my hair isn't wet, but it's still a bit, you know... It brings out my eyes too much." She blurts out the last part, sitting down hard on the sofa. 

I frown in confusion, then I realise. "Oh... Rose, if you're worried about that, don't be, I hardly noticed your eyes when I met you, and it's dark out anyway."

She looks over at me helplessly. "I know, but I just don't want to be picked on. It's what I ran away from, you know?"

"I know, but that dress is lovely on you." I say, biting my lip. "And if you don't come with me, all the airheads will, like, converge on me or something. My brain cells will die. I need intelligent conversation."

She laughs. "You make a convincing argument, Jamie boy."

I stand up, holding out my hand. "Come on. Please?"

She stares at my hand for a moment, before taking it and pulling herself up. "Fine. But if any of the airheads decide that I'm your girlfriend and get pissy with me, I'm pushing you into the bonfire.

Sometimes, she terrifies me.

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