Status: Miss. Manchester
Somewhere Only We Know
Part 1
Dear Diary,
Finally a spare moment to write without being forced to combat with sleep as I do it.
I haven’t written for quite a while. I have been close to Bryce now for almost 2 month, and have written close to nothing about our extraordinary relationship.
It all began one lonely evening as I was studying English in my lobby with some other girls in my class. I was in an anti-romantic, pro study mood and was clothed in a beautiful outfit. Gray sweats, cotton-flowered motherly shirt, no bangs and glasses atop my head.
Out of nowhere came two freshman looking boys. “Ignore them” I thought instantly. The one with dark hair began talking to Stephanie (the girl I was studying with) and I concentrated on Homer.
Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the blonde one wandering aimlessly about, and finally come to rest in a seat right behind me. He was looking for the cheesy read-head relief society president Joel because she had his ring. For some reason I had an urge inside to say
“Joel is NOT home, and besides that she has a boyfriend.” But- I restrained the impulse. I was already jealous- and I did not even know him. Back to the Greeks and Romans.
“What is Stoicism?” I quizzed Stephanie. She answered and I added my thoughts on the subject. Suddenly from behind I hear a voice pipe in with a new view. I turned around to see the blonde boy again. I took a close look. He was thin, was wearing round glasses, and longish khaki green wool coat.
Hmmmm…
“Intellectual” I thought. “Might be interesting to get to know, but I’m tired of those types.”
As the minutes dragged by I became aware that these two guys weren’t on my floor because they had a girlfriend who lived there (which was usually the case) but because they were out looking for girls. OH well- I looked hideous anyway, not much sense in trying to flirt in this condition.
To my great surprise the blonde one kept up his conversation with me, and then stopped abruptly and looked into my eyes.
“Would you like to go bowling tonight?”
A thought flashed through my brain
“English test tomorrow, you don’t know this guy.” But as I was thinking this I found my mouth answering,
“Yes, I’d love to.”
What had I just done?? Well I guess I’ll just have to go. He left and I went to my room to get ready.
“And now it’s time to shock the kid.” I curled my hair, applied some lipstick, and put on my newest outfit, which showed off my legs, and as much as I hate to admit it my curvy figure. I wanted to dazzle him as much as this short Stettler could.
When he came to my door he was duly impressed and I could tell. We walked down the hall to the elevators and I was glad to be away from the disapproving gaze of Darlene, my motherly roommate.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And suddenly the story ends, and is not the cheesy college romance as it began, but an entirely different tale altogether.
The year is 1816, England.
“Oh really Mister Williams, do you always say such things in the company of ladies?”
“Of course I do.” He looked at her rebelliously
“Good.” She smiled, and hit the croquet ball directly through the hoop. Catherine Manchester was a lively girl, and it was known through the village that she was a public disgrace to the long line of nobility from Creston Manor.
That evening she strolled through the sunlit garden and mused upon this charming young man who had been courting her of late. What was it that she somehow liked about him?
He was indeed handsome. Bryce Williams was the son a very wealthy and prestigious gentleman in society, and was the heir to his father’s fortune. Catherine had not known this until recently, and was decidedly apprehensive about the situation.
Her family came from a long line of noble blood, but various ancestors had succeeded in squandering most of the future. It was up to her father to come up with enough money to save the manor. Needless to say, she knew that she would not be a very good catch for Bryce Williams.
Catherine had been sure that after her broken engagement some months before that she could never love again. She was small with dark hair, ad fiery eyes, which could light instantly with affection and laughter.
But, of late her complexion had become rather pale, and her eyes listless and dull. She spent much of her time alone reading or recalling past moments of happiness. And then suddenly Bryce Williams appeared and planted again a seed of vitality within her soul.
When he was by her side at the balls, and evening parties, there were those who envied her, and looked on with admiration.
Bryce was the most fashionable and impeccably dressed gentleman in the countryside, and was renown for his sweet words and graceful manners. He had a thick head of golden hair, grey-blue penetrating eyes, and a sensual, tender mouth. He had a long scar running from the bridge of his nose the left tip. It was the only flaw on his being, yet it somehow made him appealing. It called attention to his sharp nose, high cheekbones, and smoothly chiseled jaw-bone.
Catherine, being the cynic she was, disdained him for his wealth, his handsome face and his wild stories. When other girls admired him for these qualities, she merely tolerated them. It was something else which drew her towards him, through she didn’t know quite yet what it was.
“Cathy?” Said Miss.Willerby
“Yes?”
“A gentleman left a note for you in the kitchen.”
“Thank-you”
The note read as follows
Miss Manchester,
I cordially ask for your company this evening at 7:00.
Would you consider a moonlight jaunt in the carriage?
Sincerely, Mr. Williams
Shocking. Yet thoroughly exciting somehow. She quickly sent the stable boy a message which accepted the invitation.
At 7:00 sharp, Mr. Williams arrived in his elegant black carriage, and famous beautiful team of gray appalusal horses.
He took Catherine’s hand and guided her into the seat next to him and they were silent. The autumn evening was cool and the bite of winter was beginning to set in.
Mr. Williams loved high speeds and his horsed were his pride and joy. He looked at her, smiled recklessly, and tugged the reins once lightly with his aristocratic hands.
Catherine held her breath as the tree blurted by, and the red earth beneath them jarred and jolted her about the seat. She wondered what her poor dear father would think of this. The she saw ahead: The dip in the road.
“Oh dear” she thought to herself. Mr. Williams, who never used a whip, called out in his strong voice
“Come on old boys, faster!” as he guided the reins expertly.
Without thinking, Catherine wrapped her arms around his neck and braced her arms around his neck and braced herself. The carriage hit the dip and flew upwards for a few terrifying seconds, and then landed with a thump to the ground.
She at once realized where her arms were and took them away rather hurriedly.
“I apologize Miss. Manchester for my love of speed. It does not suit you I take it?”
“No…it does not.”
“Well then, I am obliged to stop all together.”
“Pardon me?” She looked up at him defiantly but he had already disappeared and was standing jauntily on the ground near the door of her side of the carriage.
“Come along my lady.”
She looked at him warily and she decided on impulse to play along. He took her hand and guided her gently down.
She linked her arm into his as they followed a path from the road to a near-by lake. She was ready to say something rather curt, when she noticed that his eyes had become serious, and his mouth tender. What was this sudden change of mood?
He led her to a rock and sat down on it, his beautifully tailored clothes. Catherine was happily surprised. She thought that she was the only one in the world who would rather spoil a dress than a moment.
She sat down clumsily beside him.
“Miss. Manchester?”
“Yes?”
“Will you…call me Bryce?”
“Well…it's not proper…is it?”
“Proper this proper that. Do you really care?”
“No not at all, but I thought perhaps you might. I should love to call you Bryce.”
“Do I dare ask for the same favor in return?”
“You may call me Catherine.”
The moon was bright and cast an entrancing glow upon them.
“Catherine?”
“Yes?”
“Do you believe in love? True love?”
“Well, Bryce” She liked the sound of his name on her lips.
“I would like to believe in it with all my heart, but life is teaching me otherwise.”
“I do Catherine. I believe that in this world for each soul there is another one perfectly matched. Isn’t that beautiful?”
“Yes…very.”
She had never seen this side of him before. It was sincere and poetic and deep. At that instant she knew that she had found a rare thing in this man and that perhaps her dreams could be revived and lived this time.
Finally a spare moment to write without being forced to combat with sleep as I do it.
I haven’t written for quite a while. I have been close to Bryce now for almost 2 month, and have written close to nothing about our extraordinary relationship.
It all began one lonely evening as I was studying English in my lobby with some other girls in my class. I was in an anti-romantic, pro study mood and was clothed in a beautiful outfit. Gray sweats, cotton-flowered motherly shirt, no bangs and glasses atop my head.
Out of nowhere came two freshman looking boys. “Ignore them” I thought instantly. The one with dark hair began talking to Stephanie (the girl I was studying with) and I concentrated on Homer.
Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the blonde one wandering aimlessly about, and finally come to rest in a seat right behind me. He was looking for the cheesy read-head relief society president Joel because she had his ring. For some reason I had an urge inside to say
“Joel is NOT home, and besides that she has a boyfriend.” But- I restrained the impulse. I was already jealous- and I did not even know him. Back to the Greeks and Romans.
“What is Stoicism?” I quizzed Stephanie. She answered and I added my thoughts on the subject. Suddenly from behind I hear a voice pipe in with a new view. I turned around to see the blonde boy again. I took a close look. He was thin, was wearing round glasses, and longish khaki green wool coat.
Hmmmm…
“Intellectual” I thought. “Might be interesting to get to know, but I’m tired of those types.”
As the minutes dragged by I became aware that these two guys weren’t on my floor because they had a girlfriend who lived there (which was usually the case) but because they were out looking for girls. OH well- I looked hideous anyway, not much sense in trying to flirt in this condition.
To my great surprise the blonde one kept up his conversation with me, and then stopped abruptly and looked into my eyes.
“Would you like to go bowling tonight?”
A thought flashed through my brain
“English test tomorrow, you don’t know this guy.” But as I was thinking this I found my mouth answering,
“Yes, I’d love to.”
What had I just done?? Well I guess I’ll just have to go. He left and I went to my room to get ready.
“And now it’s time to shock the kid.” I curled my hair, applied some lipstick, and put on my newest outfit, which showed off my legs, and as much as I hate to admit it my curvy figure. I wanted to dazzle him as much as this short Stettler could.
When he came to my door he was duly impressed and I could tell. We walked down the hall to the elevators and I was glad to be away from the disapproving gaze of Darlene, my motherly roommate.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And suddenly the story ends, and is not the cheesy college romance as it began, but an entirely different tale altogether.
The year is 1816, England.
“Oh really Mister Williams, do you always say such things in the company of ladies?”
“Of course I do.” He looked at her rebelliously
“Good.” She smiled, and hit the croquet ball directly through the hoop. Catherine Manchester was a lively girl, and it was known through the village that she was a public disgrace to the long line of nobility from Creston Manor.
That evening she strolled through the sunlit garden and mused upon this charming young man who had been courting her of late. What was it that she somehow liked about him?
He was indeed handsome. Bryce Williams was the son a very wealthy and prestigious gentleman in society, and was the heir to his father’s fortune. Catherine had not known this until recently, and was decidedly apprehensive about the situation.
Her family came from a long line of noble blood, but various ancestors had succeeded in squandering most of the future. It was up to her father to come up with enough money to save the manor. Needless to say, she knew that she would not be a very good catch for Bryce Williams.
Catherine had been sure that after her broken engagement some months before that she could never love again. She was small with dark hair, ad fiery eyes, which could light instantly with affection and laughter.
But, of late her complexion had become rather pale, and her eyes listless and dull. She spent much of her time alone reading or recalling past moments of happiness. And then suddenly Bryce Williams appeared and planted again a seed of vitality within her soul.
When he was by her side at the balls, and evening parties, there were those who envied her, and looked on with admiration.
Bryce was the most fashionable and impeccably dressed gentleman in the countryside, and was renown for his sweet words and graceful manners. He had a thick head of golden hair, grey-blue penetrating eyes, and a sensual, tender mouth. He had a long scar running from the bridge of his nose the left tip. It was the only flaw on his being, yet it somehow made him appealing. It called attention to his sharp nose, high cheekbones, and smoothly chiseled jaw-bone.
Catherine, being the cynic she was, disdained him for his wealth, his handsome face and his wild stories. When other girls admired him for these qualities, she merely tolerated them. It was something else which drew her towards him, through she didn’t know quite yet what it was.
“Cathy?” Said Miss.Willerby
“Yes?”
“A gentleman left a note for you in the kitchen.”
“Thank-you”
The note read as follows
Miss Manchester,
I cordially ask for your company this evening at 7:00.
Would you consider a moonlight jaunt in the carriage?
Sincerely, Mr. Williams
Shocking. Yet thoroughly exciting somehow. She quickly sent the stable boy a message which accepted the invitation.
At 7:00 sharp, Mr. Williams arrived in his elegant black carriage, and famous beautiful team of gray appalusal horses.
He took Catherine’s hand and guided her into the seat next to him and they were silent. The autumn evening was cool and the bite of winter was beginning to set in.
Mr. Williams loved high speeds and his horsed were his pride and joy. He looked at her, smiled recklessly, and tugged the reins once lightly with his aristocratic hands.
Catherine held her breath as the tree blurted by, and the red earth beneath them jarred and jolted her about the seat. She wondered what her poor dear father would think of this. The she saw ahead: The dip in the road.
“Oh dear” she thought to herself. Mr. Williams, who never used a whip, called out in his strong voice
“Come on old boys, faster!” as he guided the reins expertly.
Without thinking, Catherine wrapped her arms around his neck and braced her arms around his neck and braced herself. The carriage hit the dip and flew upwards for a few terrifying seconds, and then landed with a thump to the ground.
She at once realized where her arms were and took them away rather hurriedly.
“I apologize Miss. Manchester for my love of speed. It does not suit you I take it?”
“No…it does not.”
“Well then, I am obliged to stop all together.”
“Pardon me?” She looked up at him defiantly but he had already disappeared and was standing jauntily on the ground near the door of her side of the carriage.
“Come along my lady.”
She looked at him warily and she decided on impulse to play along. He took her hand and guided her gently down.
She linked her arm into his as they followed a path from the road to a near-by lake. She was ready to say something rather curt, when she noticed that his eyes had become serious, and his mouth tender. What was this sudden change of mood?
He led her to a rock and sat down on it, his beautifully tailored clothes. Catherine was happily surprised. She thought that she was the only one in the world who would rather spoil a dress than a moment.
She sat down clumsily beside him.
“Miss. Manchester?”
“Yes?”
“Will you…call me Bryce?”
“Well…it's not proper…is it?”
“Proper this proper that. Do you really care?”
“No not at all, but I thought perhaps you might. I should love to call you Bryce.”
“Do I dare ask for the same favor in return?”
“You may call me Catherine.”
The moon was bright and cast an entrancing glow upon them.
“Catherine?”
“Yes?”
“Do you believe in love? True love?”
“Well, Bryce” She liked the sound of his name on her lips.
“I would like to believe in it with all my heart, but life is teaching me otherwise.”
“I do Catherine. I believe that in this world for each soul there is another one perfectly matched. Isn’t that beautiful?”
“Yes…very.”
She had never seen this side of him before. It was sincere and poetic and deep. At that instant she knew that she had found a rare thing in this man and that perhaps her dreams could be revived and lived this time.