Текст книги "Prom and Prejudice"
Автор книги: Elizabeth Eulberg
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Seventeen
THE FOLLOWING WEEKS BECAME A CYCLE OF SCHOOL, homework, practice, and work. The pranks and vitriol lessened as students started studying for midterms and the prom committee called meetings practically every evening. The piano had become the only bright spot in my day. I felt like I was accomplishing something, anything by making my way, slowly yet surely, through Rachmaninoff.
Jane and I stayed in most nights. She became more and more depressed as the list of girls with prom dates grew and grew. Adding insult to injury, she was having a very expensive dress made for her. Her mother seemed to think that everything would eventually work out, and didn't want her to be unprepared.
Neither one of us even bothered to attend the "mandatory" prom orientation meeting where the rundown of activities was discussed, media release forms were handed out, and preinter-views were scheduled. (Charlotte decided to brave the meeting, only to be told the wrong room. Then, when she finally arrived, they claimed they didn't have any more forms for her.)
I had even begun looking forward to work more, as it was my only real social interaction during the week. Wick didn't come in nearly as much anymore. Being around each other was suddenly awkward. For the first time since I'd met him, I felt censored. I couldn't be open around him and tell him what I wanted to say: Why her? Why not me? But we both already knew the answer to those questions.
While Wick stayed away, another presence emerged. Much to my dismay, Darcy began making regular appearances during my shift. I tried to avoid any conversation with him besides inquiries into his beverage selection.
"I think that guy has a thing for you," Tara said one day, motioning to Darcy.
"Hardly," I replied. "He despises me. Although probably not as much as I detest him."
Tara smirked. "My, we certainly have strong feelings for someone, don't we? Are you sure you detest him, or is it something else?"
"Please."
"Well, he only sits down with his coffee when you're here. When you aren't, he leaves."
"Believe me, he's only doing it to punish me."
The punishment continued for another couple weeks. Finally, nearly a month after Charles's party, he caught up with me on my way home. He was with a guy in his late twenties.
Darcy and his friend joined me on the sidewalk. "Hi, Lizzie," Darcy said, as if we'd just happened to encounter each other. "We're heading over in your direction – do you mind if we walk with you?"
"I'm Will Fitzpatrick," the guy said to me. "It's my ten-year reunion at Pemberley. I'm just visiting my little cousin before heading to our party."
"Hi," I replied. He had a friendly disposition, very opposite to Darcy.
"Fitz, this is Elizabeth Bennet," Darcy said, making the proper introduction.
"Please call me Fitz – all my friends do. With two Wills in the family, it just made it easier for everybody to refer to us by our last names."
I smiled politely, although I wasn't really interested in why everybody called Darcy by that name, and not Will.
"I've heard a lot about you," Fitz said warmly.
"That's unfortunate," I replied. "I can assure you that I'm not nearly as awful as your cousin has made me out to be."
Fitz laughed. "Awful? Quite the opposite. He only has nice things to say."
"I'm afraid it is only Lizzie who has unkind words to say about me," Darcy added.
Fitz stopped in his tracks. "What exactly has my idiot cousin done to deserve that?" His smile was curious and friendly.
"I'm glad you asked; I've been wondering the same thing," Darcy replied drily.
"Well, how much time do you have before your party?" I responded.
"Oh, Darcy!" Fitz grabbed Darcy by the collar. "You have such a way with the ladies. Miss Bennet, on behalf of my family, my sincerest apologies for whatever offenses Sir Grumpsalot over here has bestowed upon you."
He reached out his hand and did a slight bow. I accepted his hand with a laugh and nodded in acceptance of his kind gesture.
"Maybe I should skip the reunion and instead try to make amends. Come to think of it, there are a few former teachers that I wish to avoid." He winked at me.
Several girls from my dorm walked past with big, puffy garment bags.
"Oh, wow, I forgot that 'tis the season for prom insanity." Fitz shook his head. "Are you suffering from pre-prom pandemonium?"
"Absolutely not," I assured him.
"Good for you. Even some of Darcy's friends seem to have lost their minds. You had to talk one friend out of going with some real character, didn't you?"
Darcy's expression changed immediately.
I felt my blood begin to boil. I had assumed it was Caroline who was keeping Charles away from Jane. But it was Darcy. Of course it was Darcy.
"What's this?" I asked.
Darcy just brushed it away. "Nothing, it's nothing."
Yes, it was nothing to him. But it was everything to Jane.
"Oh!" Fitz glanced at his watch. "I must make my way to the Headmaster's House. Lizzie, a pleasure." He shook my hand. "Cousin" – he turned to Darcy – "don't be an imbecile. Good families are dime-a-dozen, but a good woman is rare."
We watched him cross the quad toward Pemberley.
"I like him," I stated. Anybody who could give Darcy such a ribbing was all right in my book. I turned to head toward my dorm and was surprised when Darcy followed. "Is there something I can help you with?" I asked.
Darcy shook his head. "No, I just thought I'd walk you the rest of the way."
"Again, your concern for my well-being is so touching."
He replied with silence.
"So, how's Charles?"
He paused for a moment. "Charles is fine. He's been really busy."
"So I hear." I balled my fists up tightly. I even bit my tongue. Seeing Darcy on a regular basis was wearing my patience thin. And knowing that he was the cause of Jane's unhappiness made it almost unbearable.
"I work on Monday, Tuesday, and Friday nights, as well as Sunday afternoons," I said.
He stared at me.
I continued. "We seem to be running into each other a lot lately, and I thought you'd like to know my hours. So you can avoid them, of course."
He nodded abruptly, then turned away. I didn't expect to see him in the cafe again.
Eighteen
ONCE AGAIN, I WAS WRONG. INSTEAD OF AVOIDING ME, DARCY as there at every shift. Sometimes he would leave when I was done and walk me back. I found it easier to not fight it. It was a short walk, and most of the time he would mercifully walk with me in silence. If we talked, it was generally small talk about classes.
"So where's your boyfriend?" Tara asked me one night.
"Who? Wick? He's not my boyfriend." As if I needed to be reminded.
"You know that's not who I'm talking about."
"Darcy?" I scoffed. "Please, he's more like a ..."
"Stalker?"
I shook my head. "I believe stalkers have to generally care about their prey."
"Your bodyguard?"
"That would be ironic since he's the person I need protection from."
"Huh." Tara started to wipe down a counter.
"What?" I pried.
"You know what I find ironic?"
"No, but I have a feeling you're going to tell me."
She looked up at me. "That you complain about him, yet you always look when the door opens toward closing time, like you're waiting for him."
"No I don't."
I had to think about it. Did I?
"So why do you let him?" she asked.
"Well, he wears shoes and a shirt, so I can't really deny him service."
"You know that's not what I mean. Why do you let him walk you home?"
"I don't know. At first, I didn't want to put up a fight. I didn't think it would become a habit. But nobody really tries anything with me when he's around, and that's nice. I guess I've just gotten used to it."
The truth was: I could be myself on our walks. I didn't have to talk if I didn't want to. It wasn't like I had to pretend that everything in my life was great (like I have to with my parents). Or be on alert (like with the rest of my class). Or try to be supportive and upbeat (like with Jane).
With Darcy, I found that I could be me.
Occasionally, we'd talk about life back home. He'd ask me about my family or what I did over the weekend. But most of the time we walked in silence and it wasn't awkward. We had our own separate moments that we seemed to share in silence. It was natural, it wasn't forced, it was our own little routine.
Then, with two weeks until spring break, he broke the routine. Instead of letting me go off into my dorm without a good-bye of any sort, he took the moment of my departure to ask, "Can I speak to you?"
I shrugged. He'd had an opportunity to speak to me for the previous fifteen minutes, so I didn't see why now was any better a time. But he had a nervous look on his face, so curiosity got the best of me.
"Lizzie, Elizabeth ... I don't think I can keep this up any longer. I like you. I like you a lot."
I was so astonished, I couldn't speak.
He continued. "I find myself thinking about you constantly – against my better judgment, I might add. I keep trying to reason with myself about why I'm so drawn to you. As much as I try, I can't seem to talk myself out of it. You're like no one else I've known ... and that has nothing to do with your upbringing. I mean, it's good and bad, I guess. Anyway, I would like to take you to prom."
My initial instinct was to be polite, like with Colin. But I was so offended and aggravated at his proposal that I was filled with nothing but resentment.
"Despite what you might think of my upbringing," I began, trying to control the anger in my voice, "I was raised to be polite. I know I should thank you for your offer, but I won't. The very last thing I want in this world is for you to think anything of me, and there is no way I would ever go to prom with you."
Darcy struggled to retain his composure. "Are you serious? How could you say such a thing to me?"
"How could I say such things?" My voice was slowly rising. "How could you even for a second think I would be thrilled to hear that you like me against your better judgment ... that you can't talk yourself out of liking me? You are so full of yourself. You can't even ask a girl to prom without insulting her, and you're too daft to even realize it!"
Darcy's face burned red. He opened up his mouth to speak, but I continued.
"And I have every reason to despise you. Are you so vain that you didn't realize this? You cost my best friend's happiness with Charles."
Darcy's eyes grew wide.
"Don't even try to deny it. I know it was you. You, who walks around with this holier-than-thou air about you, dictating who should be with who. Jane is the most wonderful person I have ever met. Yes, her father is in between jobs and her sister is brash, but who are you to tell Charles who he can and cannot date?
"And Wick! You couldn't contain your jealousy, could you? You couldn't stand the thought of a townie having the same connections as you. So what did you do? You got him expelled. You ruined his chance at a good education, of making something of himself. Honestly, it wouldn't surprise me if you tried to find some bogus reason to get me kicked out now that I've wounded your bloated pride. Although I sincerely doubt that anybody can do that to you. You selfish, spoiled jerk. I was liking it so much more when we were silent. When things weren't forced. Why did you have to speak?"
"You really believe this about me?" Darcy's voice was soft. "You certainly have made up your mind, haven't you?"
"Since the first moment I met you. You have been nothing but conceited and standoffish. I tried to make an effort for Jane's sake, but since that isn't an issue any longer, thanks to you, I don't have any reason to hide my feelings."
"No, no, you certainly aren't hiding anything." Darcy leaned against a tree. "Well, I've heard enough. I'm sorry for offending you with my proposal – that isn't what I intended to do. I'm ..." He seemed lost for a moment. Then he stood up purposely and nodded at me. "Well, thanks for your time. Have a good night." He hurriedly walked toward Pemberley.
I rushed to my room, feeling outraged. I found a note from Jane on my computer screen, saying she was in the common room.
How could I have possibly attracted someone like Will Darcy? Not only that, but I had absolutely no idea that all this time he'd been flirting with me.
I fell to the floor, exhausted from everything – school, work, practice, and now this.
The dam finally burst. I had, once again, reached my breaking point.
I locked the door and broke down in tears.
Nineteen
I DIDN'T HAVE THE STRENGTH TO TELL JANE WHAT HAPPENED.
Not only could I not bear to repeat my conversation with Darcy, I didn't want to bring up my theory that Darcy was responsible for Charles's distance.
I decided to take a sick day that Monday and stayed in bed catching up on work. When I went to e-mail my Hoboken friends, I was shocked to find an e-mail from Darcy that he'd sent late the previous night.
Dear Lizzie,
Please know that I'm not stupid enough to make the same mistake twice. I'm not going to repeat myself here. But after thinking about what you said, I can understand why you have so much contempt for me. However, in fairness to us both, I think there are a few things you should know.
First, I want to apologize about how I treated you when we first met. I was rude to you at the party and, you were right, it was because you were a scholarship student. I spent the semester in London running away from some issues I had and it was really hard coming back. I think I might have taken it out on you. But then I got to know you and I was horrified by the assumptions that I had made about you. You are really an incredible person and I admire how brave you are (and I will admit you are the first person I've met at Pemberley or Longbourn who hasn't been impressed by my family's money, which made me like you even more). I hoped that your opinion of me would change if you gave me a second chance. I tried to figure out a way to make amends, but, obviously, it was all in vain. So if you take anything away from this letter, I hope it is that I am truly sorry for how I treated you.
Second, I am not directly responsible for what has happened with Charles and Jane. However, I am certainly at fault for not stepping in. I fully admit to that. I will also admit to being indirectly responsible. In fact, we both are. I believe the person responsible wanted to keep Jane away because this person also wanted to keep you away. As much as you were shocked by my revelation tonight, my feelings for you have been clear to those around me for quite some time. (I wanted to preface this all with "please don't think me conceited," but we both already know your feelings on that subject.) I should have straightened that situation out as well, and I have recently been inspired to clear the air with this person. Although I hope to spare her feelings more than mine were spared tonight. I plan to fix my errors, and while I know that Jane has been hurt, I hope that she can forgive Charles for being such an idiot.
I also wanted to clear up something my cousin said that I believe you misunderstood. The friend I talked out of going to the prom wasn't Charles. It was Colin. He was adamant about asking you again, but I convinced him otherwise. My selfish motives were clearly at play.
Lastly, the accusation that I got Wick kicked out of Pemberley because of my own jealousy couldn't be further from the truth. I don't like to speak about this, since it was a very painful time for my family, but I feel that I need to defend myself against whatever lies Wick may have told you.
George Wickham and I were good friends. We instantly clicked when we met, and we started spending a lot of time together. He was close with my whole family, including my fourteen-year-old sister, Georgiana. I always had him home on break, and my parents even gave him money for his school supplies and took him on vacation with us. I was happy that my father was going to help him with an internship at his law firm last summer. And, selfishly, I was happy to have him stay with us. He was like the brother I'd never had.
But Wick also liked to play as hard as he worked. Granted, I had a lot of fun hanging out with him, but he crossed the line when he got Georgie involved.
My sister means everything to me. You will never find a sweeter, more caring person. My parents were gone one weekend and I came home to find empty liquor bottles around the house. I walked in on Wick trying to take advantage of my sister, whom he had gotten drunk. Fortunately, I got home before anything else could've happened, but I will never forgive myself for putting my sister in that situation.
I kicked him out of our house, and my father withdrew his internship. But Wick knew our security codes and we, stupidly, didn't think to change them. He broke into our house and stole jewelry, cash, and some family items. We had the security footage to prove it.
That's why he got kicked out of Pemberley. In truth, he's lucky we didn't press charges for the robbery. We should have, but we didn't want to have to go through a trial and have it all come out in the press. He violated my trust, my family's trust, and, most reprehensible of all, he tried to take advantage of a young girl's innocent affections.
As you once reminded me, I did accuse you of having a problem with people with money. And I will admit to having a problem with people without it. But it was only because of Wick. I have never told anybody this, but what happened with Wick was the reason why I went to London last semester. I needed to get away from campus, and from the guilt I had about bringing someone like him into my family. So my guard was up when I returned to campus, and I wasn't ready to allow myself to be close to anybody new. It was very unfair of me to lump you in with someone like him, and again, for that I'm very sorry.
I don't expect this to really change anything between us. But I couldn't sleep without at least giving you my side of the story.
I stared at the screen in a desperate attempt to comprehend everything Darcy had said. I reread his e-mail several times.
At first, I didn't believe anything – couldn't believe it. Then I thought some more about Jane and Charles. Even though Lydia had embarrassed Jane, it would make sense for Caroline to feel jealous about me when I was the only person Darcy had danced with the whole evening. The idea that Caroline knew Darcy's feelings for me seemed so surreal. So it was me she was trying to keep away, not Jane. I didn't know if I should have felt relieved or guilty about that.
I still kept reading the part about Wick. I thought: Why should I believe Darcy?
Then I reflected on Wick's behavior. Yes, he was charming and warm, but he never seemed interested in hanging out with me unless I was at work ... and giving him free drinks.
And he had told me that we had to take advantage of our situation.
But this seemed so ... extreme.
How well did I know Wick? And how well did I know Darcy?
I reread Darcy's last couple paragraphs and a knot formed in my stomach.
Darcy had a wall around him, just like me. But unlike me, Darcy's feelings had changed after he got to know me. He'd built some doors into the wall, while I'd held on to my prejudices the entire time.
Yes, he'd been cold to me when we first met, but ever since, he'd been making an attempt to get to know me, when I couldn't see past my own narrow-mindedness. He walked me home from work, he even tried to buy me a book, and all I did was be cold to him. He wasn't perfect. He would say the wrong things sometimes. But if he was a guy from Hoboken, I would have looked past it ... or at least forgiven him. But since Darcy was rich, I couldn't.
I'd taken Wick at his word because he was a scholarship kid like me. But never once had I thought it was odd that he'd gotten kicked out of school without a proper explanation. Because I sympathized. Because I feared the same thing would happen to me. I'd assumed we were in the same boat, when really he was the shark swimming beneath it.
All this time I'd berated Darcy for his pride, but I was the one who'd been blinded by my own stubbornness.
What kind of person did that make me?