Someone Better Catch Me

Chapter I: Surprise?

I don't think I've ever remembered a day more clearly than I remembered that day. The wind was blistering cold, it wasn't snowing – though I couldn't see why, it was cold enough – but it was raining. It wasn't the soft kind of rain which comes straight down, no; this rain blew sideways in sheets. It was freezing and it was hitting me in the face.

I could practically smell the warm cappuccinos as my younger sister Collette and I approached The Moo. I lived on one of the richest parts of Staten Island with my sister, my mom, and my dad. (And no, despite the stereo-type, we are not Italian.) Collette and I ferried all the way over to Long Island, and drove into the urban part of New York, just to go to The Moo.

Normally, we wouldn't have left home. It was a Sunday and on Sundays our family went to church, came home, and spent the day together. But today, my parents had gotten in a fight and we'd slipped out from under their noses.

"Hey! It's the Thornton girls!" No one but one of our best friends, Rocco, cared that we'd entered the Moo. The coffee house was full of sophisticated college types, all clothed in black from the French barrettes on their heads to their Dock Marten clad feet.

"Hey Rocco." I'd never been the type to give air kisses on the cheek, but with Rocco it was a must.

"You girls just sit down," he said after we'd both greeted him. "I'll get a mocha frappucino for Collette and a Latte for you Noelle." He always knew exactly what we wanted.

"Do you know what mom and dad were arguing about?" Collette asked when we sat at our booth, her brows furrowed worriedly. I shook my head.

"I have no idea." Whenever our parents got into a fight, my mom usually tried to make things better, but ended up making them worse. It was amusing.

Collette and I were a strange type of sisters; we were best friends, and total opposites. We'd each been born on holidays, I was born on Christmas – hence my name, Noelle – and she was born on the fourth of July. She was a sparkly, beautiful blonde, and I was a pretty, but not beautiful, brunette. She kept her hair in a short bob; I let mine grow to above my waist. Hers was straight and silky, mine ended in loose curls. She had blue eyes, I had bright green. She was curvy and voluptuous, I was long and slender.

In fact, my entire family besides my father was blonde and blue eyed. I'd gotten my brunette hair and bright green eyes from my father.

"Here you go girls, enjoy yourselves." I smiled up at Rocco when he set our drinks down, inhaling the warm aroma. I took a sip. This coffee had definitely been worth the trip down here.

Collette and I discussed nothing in particular, things like what we'd gotten for Christmas, school starting again, and college applications.

Our family was very happy at that time, but, there was one thing shadowing over our whole existence. My father had leukemia, and he'd been given to the end of this coming year to survive.

At that time Collette and I had no doubt in our minds he would survive, our papa couldn't die. It wasn't that we admired him; we knew he'd made a lot of bad decisions in his life. We just couldn't imagine our surly, stocky old father ceasing to exist. We couldn't fathom his office downstairs being empty; we couldn't picture no income coming in from his successful business.

My phone rang right after I finished my latte. I remember this because Collette hadn't finished her frappucino and when my mom told us we had to go home, she chugged it and burned her tongue.

We both said goodbye to Rocco and walked out of the door. Once again none of the moody NYU kids even looked up as us silly high school girls left.

Back home I could tell mom was still furious from their fight.

"Your father wants to see you. He says to wait outside his office, he has a phone call." I could tell she was absolutely livid. Collette and I nodded, and before she could find something to get mad at us about we were up the stairs and sitting in the velvet waiting chairs outside my dad's office.

Our house was huge, and ornately decorated. The particular hall we were sitting in had light green walls, dark green carpet, and intricately carved white crown molding. My father's office was in the center of the hall and it had two oak double doors. Along the walls were evenly spaced glass sconces.

I could hear my dad muttering in his office. I leaned in slightly towards the door; I knew he had his call on speaker because I could hear someone else's voice coming over the slightly staticy phone connection. I could tell from his accent that he was British.

"They won't be happy about this at all!" my father yelled, furious.

"George, you owe me a debt. Your inheritance will cover it. This will ensure your money stays in my family, and your daughters and wife stay provided for. It has to happen."

My heart immediately stopped beating and all the color rushed from my already pale face. I knew what was going on.

Truly, I'd only hear of crazy things like this happening in soap operas, or mafia movies.

There was a click from inside the office signaling the phone conversation had ended.

"Come in girls."

Collette glanced at me as we rose and walked in. I knew she could read the shock and anguish on my face.

My mind was a blur as my father explained what was going on. He was so calm that it shocked me.

"You girls will be marrying next weekend. My inheritance will pay off my debt to the Ackerman family and you and your mother will not be left penniless when I die."

Beside me, Collette burst into tears. I held her, not able to cry myself. We sat there, awkwardly embracing each other across the space between our chairs while my father described our betrothed to us.

A million protests rose in my mouth, a million good reasons why we shouldn't do this. Why it was unethical. But I couldn't speak from shock.

"You'll be married on their estate in England. Then you will live with your husbands, and your mother will accompany you. Noelle, your husband will be Aidan, he's 20. Collette, yours will be Seamus, he's 19. After you're married, my doctors have requested that I check myself into the hospital."

He said all this in a hard tone. I could tell he'd been plotting this for a long time. He acted like his daughters weren't sitting in front of him; sobbing their eyes out while he doomed them to a lifetime married to men they'd never met.

My dad had always been cold and unfeeling. In truth, neither Collette nor I had ever really gotten to know him. He was always in his office at work, or in his home office.

He stood up, not wanting to watch us cry anymore, and left the room.

I could feel bile rising in my throat as the shock hit me fill force.

Luckily, comforting Collette distracted me from throwing up.

"I'm only seventeen!" She wailed. I still couldn't cry, though I dearly wished I could to release some of the shock, anger, and hurt.

That was when I made an important decision. I couldn't sit here and simply pat Collette on the head soothingly. I was the older sister, I had to take charge. The lump in my throat and the inability to talk cleared as I strengthened myself with new resolve.

"Collette," I tucked my finger under her chin and lifted her head up so she would look at me. "We have to be strong. We'll help each other get through this. You and I." Collette put on a brief smile at my reassuring words.

"Maybe I'll fall in love with…" she furrowed her brow, trying to remember his name. "Seamus, right away!" She said. She'd always been the hopeless romantic, the many paperback romance novels that lined her walls were testimony to that. I could even tell though, she wasn't convincing herself with her words.

My mother walked into the room, her livid expression replaced by a soft, sympathetic one.

"Girls, this will work out, trust me," she said. I didn't trust her on this. "You might not think this happens a lot, but it does."

"Really, to who?" I asked, my voice bitingly sarcastic. My mother frowned at my words. I still held my sister in an embrace, comforting her as she gazed up at my mom.

"Your father and I were in an arranged marriage."

"Wonderful, then this should turn out splendidly," I said sarcastically. I could tell I'd hurt her, and I felt a twinge of guilt, but at that moment I truly didn't care.

"You should start packing your stuff into boxes, the moving men will come Friday," she said. I watched her leave, and sighed.

"Does this mean we won't have anymore school?" Collette asked timidly. I shook my head, tears coming to me at last.

"No, Collette, no more school."

She sniffled, and I took sympathy on her. School was our favorite place, the one thing we had in common was that we loved books and learning.

We were such nerds.

"Miss Collette, Miss Noelle?" I looked up at Frita, our clueless Brazilian housekeeper.

"Yes Frita?" I asked softly, trying to hide the fact that I'd been crying. Obviously Frita had no idea what was going on.

"Your Mother Mrs. Nicole wants you to pack for England," she said in thick accented English.

"Tell her we will get started," I said. Frita nodded and bustled out of the door.

"Come on Collette, let's get packing," I said. Collette made no move to get up.

"Pretend we're going on a European vacation," I said lamely. Collette brightened minutely.

"Can we see Big Ben?" She asked like a small child. I grinned; glad she was playing along with it.

"Of course."

A/N: Please review and tell me what you think! Rather short, and I'm sorry. The next chapter will be longer, I swear.