Read Online The Time-Traveling Fashionista by Bianca Turetsky - Free Book Online

giggles. But before they had walked more than a few feet, Louise doubled over in pain, clutching her stomach. She suddenly
     felt as if someone were wringing out her intestines like a wet towel.
    “I’m going to be sick,” she moaned and ran over to the side of the boat. Then she promptly threw up. Anna held her hair back
     from her face and shielded her from the curious yet averted glances of the other passengers.
    Sweating and weak, Louise lowered herself gingerly to the deck floor. She started crying; she couldn’t help it. Ever since
     she was a little girl, she cried every time she got sick. Suddenly she felt like she was five years old again. She wanted
     her mother.
    Anna sat herself down on the floor next to Louise. “The first time I was on a boat I got really seasick, too. It’s just awful.”
    “Yes,” Louise agreed. “That must be it. Seasickness…” But for some reason, she wasn’t completely convinced. Echoes of the
     stabbing pain she had felt in her stomach seconds ago lingered on. It reminded her of the time she had gotten foodpoisoning on vacation with Brooke’s family. At that moment, Louise wished that she were back in her own house curled up on
     the couch watching an old black-and-white movie.
    Anna took a neatly folded handkerchief out of her pocket and handed it to Louise so she could wipe her mouth. “At least it’s
     not windy,” she added with a chuckle. Despite her miserable state, Louise laughed, imagining what a mess she would be in right
     now if the wind had not been blowing in her favor.
    They looked at each other and started laughing.
    The clacking of shoes against the hard wooden planks gave the girls a start. They stifled their giggles and looked up as two
     passengers strolled by, arms linked, out for a romantic stroll. A fair-haired lady carrying a parasol glanced down as she
     passed, giving Louise and Anna a confused and snooty look.
    The girls got up, and Anna led them toward the gymnasium. A little seasickness was not going to stop Louise from enjoying
     her fabulous day as this old-fashioned, glamorous actress.

“Wow, what a cool room,” Louise said while checking out the old-fashioned exercise bikes, rowing machines, and two strange
     contraptions that looked a lot like a camel and a horse. The floor was tiled white with black diamonds, and the oak wood paneling
     seemed more suited for a library than a gym. A brown leather punching bag was suspended from one of the exposed wooden ceiling
     beams in the center of the room.
    “What on earth is this for?” Louise asked, pointing to the camel-like machine, perplexed.
    “Exercise, of course.” Anna gave Louise a look like she was from Mars.
    “Weird,” Louise remarked, realizing that Anna would probably have the same reaction if she came to the Fairview Sports Club
     and saw an elliptical trainer or a Pilates machine for the first time.
    “Good morning, ladies,” a thick Cockney accent called out from behind one of the camels.
    The girls jumped, startled, having thought they were alone.
    A sturdy, muscular little man emerged from behind the mechanical camel’s hind legs and walked over to Louise and Anna with
     an outstretched hand.
    He was wearing a white polo shirt, white cotton shorts, and white sneakers, which offset his deep tan complexion. He had a
     toothbrush mustache like Charlie Chaplin, Louise’s favorite comic actor from the silent film era.
    “I’m T. W. McCawley,” he said while shaking both of their hands vigorously.
    “I’m Lou… I mean, I’m Miss Baxter.” Louise quickly corrected herself mid sentence. “And this is Anna, my friend.” Anna smiled
     at her new title.
    “Jolly-o. Are you ready for some exercise? It’s been a slow morning; lazy chaps on this ship,” T. W. said, gesturing to the
     empty gymnasium. “Excuse my frankness, but it’s a shame to see this modern equipment sit idle.”
    Louise and Anna nodded mutely in agreement.
    “Well, you aren’t exactly dressed for