Prom & Prejudice PDF - Elizabeth Eulberg

Prom & Prejudice ELIZABETH EULBERG  FOR MY MOTHER, WHOSE ENTHUSIASM FOR BOOKS IS CONTAGIOUS, AND MY FATHER, WHO INSPIRES ME TO BE A BETTER PERSON  Contents Cover Title Page 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23....

Prom & Prejudice ELIZABETH EULBERG  FOR MY MOTHER, WHOSE ENTHUSIASM FOR BOOKS IS CONTAGIOUS, AND MY FATHER, WHO INSPIRES ME TO BE A BETTER PERSON  Contents Cover Title Page 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. Acknowledgments About the Author PRAISE FOR The Lonely Hearts Club Copyright  1. IT IS A TRUTH UNIVERSALLY ACKNOWLEDGED, THAT A SINGLE girl of high standing at Longbourn Academy must be in want of a prom date. While the same can probably be said of countless other schools across the country, prom at Longbourn isn't just a rite of passage -- it's considered by many (at least those who matter) to be the social event for future members of high society. Longbourn girls don't go to the mall to get their dresses. No, they boast couture from designers whose names adorn their speed dial. Just look at the glossy six-page spread dedicated to more than a century of prom history in Longbourn's recruitment brochure. Or the yearly coverage in the New York Times Sunday Style section... or Vanity Fair... or Vogue. Fashion reporters and photographers flock to the Connecticut campus to scope out the fashion, the excess, the glamour of it all. It is Fashion Week for the silver spoon set. The tradition started in 1895, the first year Longbourn opened its doors. Originally set up as a finishing school for proper ladies, the founders realized they needed to have an event to usher their students into the elite world. And while girls nowadays don't really need to be formally "welcomed" into society, nobody wants to give up a weekend-long excuse to dress up and attempt to outshine one another. Friday night is the reception where the couples (consisting of Longbourn girls and, for the most part, boys from the neighboring Pemberley Academy) are introduced. Saturday night is the main event and Sunday afternoon is a brunch where reporters interview the students about the previous evening. Students become fixated on prom from the day they get accepted. To not attend, or have the proper date, would be a scandal from which a young girl would never be able to recover.  Imagine the chaos that erupted a few years ago, when a scholarship student not only snagged the most sought-after boy at Pemberley, but showed up in a dress from Macy's (the horror!) and caught the eye of the New York Times reporter, who ended up putting her, and her story, on the cover of the Style section. Up to that point, most students tolerated the two scholarship students in each class. But this was too much. The following year, hazing began. Most scholarship students couldn't last more than two years. The program only continued because the board of trustees was adamant about diversifying the student body (and by diversify, they meant having students whose parents didn't earn seven-figure yearly bonuses). Plus, the scholarship students, often called "charity cases," helped boost the academic record and music program. Given the opportunities, education-wise, the scholarship students try to put up with the behavior. After all, this kind of experience couldn't have happened at home. So there was a price to pay for the best teachers, resources, and connections. That price -- condescension, taunts, pranks -- got old pretty quickly. It's not easy, though. It only took the new scholarship girl in the junior class two days before she broke down in tears. Fortunately, she was alone in her room and nobody saw her. But it happened. I should know. Because that was my room, and my tears. I was a scholarship student. A charity case. One of them. There was a giant target on my back. And I had to do everything possible to avoid getting hit.  2. THE STOMACH PAINS ALWAYS STARTED ONCE THE TRAIN pulled out of Grand Central Station in Manhattan. When I first took the trip, I had butterflies in my stomach, but now I knew better. Now the butterflies had turned to vipers. Part of me should've been impressed that I'd been able to survive my first semester at Longbourn. I knew I would have difficulties coming in as a junior, but nothing could've prepared me for the cold, wet greeting given to me by several girls on my floor. They thought a proper hello was throwing a milk shake in my face on my way to orientation. I could still feel the cold shock of the strawberry slush hitting my face. I ended up being late to orientation, and when the headmistress asked me for my excuse, I told her I'd gotten lost. I heard snickering throughout the room and wondered how many people had been in on the hazing. Most of the other things they did to me were subtler: replacing my shampoo with hair removal lotion (luckily, I could smell it before it caused any real damage), tampering with my razor so I got a nasty cut on my leg, putting crushed-up laxatives in my lemonade mix.... I closed my eyes and tried to block out my first week at school. I truly had every intention of coming back from winter break with a positive attitude. I already knew whom to avoid (pretty much everybody except for my roommate, Jane, and the other "charity case" in our class, Charlotte). I was doing well in my classes. I already established myself as the top pianist on campus (which was really important since I was on a music scholarship). And I had a job that I liked because I was able to interact with somewhat normal people (aka "townies"). Oh, and I needed the money. It always seemed to come back to money. And then there was Ella Gardiner, my piano teacher. She was one of the most prestigious piano instructors in the country, she was on the board of directors at countless music institutions, and she had the reputation of getting her students into the top music programs upon graduation. She was the reason I came to Longbourn, and she was why I had subjected myself to what came along with being a scholarship student. I grasped on to the scrapbook my friends back home had made me for Christmas. I flipped through the pages of photos, notes, memories from my former life. The life in which I had a tight circle of friends, one that never made me question whether I belonged. I smiled as I looked at the pages filled with photos from the many traditions we started in grade school: Anna's Valentine's Day parties (no boys allowed), our Halloween re- creations of Grease in my living room, holiday gatherings. Then I came to the final section of the scrapbook -- the pages filled with the programs of my various recitals and concerts over the years and photos of my friends gathered around me to celebrate. The very last page had a program from a concert by Claudia Reynolds, the classical pianist that I looked up to, along with a note signed by everybody: To the next Claudia Reynolds, we miss you, but know you're going to accomplish great things. Don't forget us when you're playing Carnegie Hall. My eyes began to sting with tears. I could never forget my friends, but I had almost forgotten what it was like to have a supportive group of people cheering me on. I closed my eyes and tried to hold on to the memory tightly so it wouldn't slip away. It was amazing how two weeks away from campus could give you a false sense of security. As the train pulled into the station, I envisioned a force field, like an emotional shield, enveloping my body. I was smarter, wiser. And I knew better than to let any childish taunts get the best of me. My barrier was up and there was no way I was going to let anybody in. There was only one person I couldn't wait to see when I got on campus. "Lizzie!" Jane greeted me as I walked into our room. I'd visited Jane a few times in Manhattan over the break, since I lived right across the Hudson River, in Hoboken, New Jersey. Jane even came to a party one of my friends had back home, and impressed even my most critical friends with her kindheartedness. I knew that someone, somewhere had to be looking out for me to have Jane as my roommate. After we caught up, Jane wanted to get down to business. "So, we have a very important decision to make." She went over to her closet and pulled out three cocktail dresses. "Which one should I wear tonight?" My stomach dropped. Longbourn was hosting an upperclassman reception with Pemberley Academy. The official reason was to welcome the returning students who spent last semester abroad. But I had a feeling it was the start of hunting season (the catch being a prom date). "You promised me you would go!" Jane reminded me. "I know, I know." I tried to sound optimistic. But unfortunately, Jane could always see through me. "Here, try this on." Jane handed me a beautiful black dress. I always had to borrow clothes from her anytime we had a formal event. And we had a lot of formal events. I was standing in our room, half naked, when Jane's younger sister, Lydia, burst through the door. She didn't believe in knocking... or doing anything considerate. After I zipped up the dress, Lydia flounced on my bed and declared, "Is that what you're going to wear?" "Lydia," Jane scolded, "I think Lizzie looks fabulous." I smiled. "You have to think that, Jane -- it's your dress." "Oh, right." Lydia's face fell. "Sorry, Lizzie. It's just that Jane can lend you all her clothes, but you can't necessarily make them fit." "Lydia!" Jane threw a notebook at her sister. "You need to be more polite, especially..." Jane let her thought trail off. But both Lydia and I knew what she meant. Jane and Lydias father had been laid off over Christmas when his company had merged with another investment bank. Not that it mattered much -- he got a huge payout and money didn't seem like an issue. Although as word spread throughout campus, you would've thought Jane and Lydia came back from the holidays with leprosy. As Jane and I finished getting ready, Lydia began whining. "No fair. Why can't I come? You better at least let me go promdress shopping with you." Jane blushed. "Slow down -- nobody's been asked to anything." "Yet," Lydia countered. "The reception tonight is just an opportunity for us to catch up after the holidays." "Yeah, especially with a certain someone returning from London!" Lydia jumped up on my bed, acting years younger than the freshman student she was, and put her hand up to her heart. "Oh, Charles Bingley, how I missed you so!" She dropped onto the bed with an exaggerated sigh. "That's it!" Jane started shooing Lydia out the door. "Out! We need to finish getting ready." She started nervously adjusting her bracelet. Charles Bingley had spent the previous semester studying abroad in London. Before he left, Jane and Charles had started to get close. From what Jane told me, nothing really happened, since they knew there was about to be an ocean between them. Jane generally kept her feelings close to the vest, but with Charles's imminent arrival, she had become openly giddy. Especially once her sister was out of the room. "Oh, Charles Bingley, how I missed you so!" Jane called out, laughing. But then she clearly felt that was too much. She examined herself in the mirror and added, "I guess there is no reason for me to get my hopes up. He probably e-mailed with a lot of girls last semester." One of the most wonderful things about Jane, besides her kindness, was that she had absolutely no idea how beautiful she was. She was completely void of vanity. "I'm just excited to see him again," she went on. "I'm sure he'll have tons of girls fighting over him for prom." "You're being ridiculous, Jane! Seriously! If Charles Bingley is even half the guy you say he is, he'd be a raving lunatic to not ask you to prom."  Jane had promised me that Charles was different from the other Pemberley boys I'd met. Talking to them was like being placed into conversational purgatory, with no hope of being released without significant damage to one's self-esteem. The first time I met a Pemberley guy, the first words out of his mouth were "Which mutual funds do you invest in?" When I told another Pemberley boy that I played the piano, he responded, "Is there money in that?" Another had mentioned that his father was in the Forbes 400 ("and not in the bottom two hundred, either") within a minute of meeting me. A fourth had kept his eyes on my chest the whole time we spoke. And then he moved on to the next girl's chest. For Jane's sake, I prayed she was right about Charles being unlike those guys. Jane smiled and took me by the elbow. "You are too kind, Lizzie. Just promise me that you'll try to enjoy yourself tonight. You'll have fun. I promise." I desperately wanted to believe that I could be accepted and treated like a normal person at school. But after last semester, I had no desire to be friends with most of the girls here. How could I be friends with the same people who found so much pleasure in torturing me? No, I knew better. I would do my best to have an incident-free evening. My armor was up and I was ready.  3. WE ENTERED FOUNDERS HALL ON CAMPUS, DECORATED with tiny, white lights that glistened off the floor-length windows and crystal chandeliers. Even after four months, I still wasn't used to the grandeur of the buildings here. My old high school consisted of cement blocks and fluorescent lighting, not rich mahogany and stained glass. "So beautiful... and this is just for a reception," Jane reminded me as we took in the view. Or at least I took in the view -- Jane was scanning the crowd, looking for Charles. "Can you imagine what they'll do for prom?" she asked. I had heard so much about prom at Longbourn. But I tried to not think about it. I knew there would be no way that I would be able to go. Most of the Pemberley students couldn't bear to look at me, let alone want to ask me to anything. And the standards were so ridiculously high. The students in the room for the "reception" were more dressed up than any Hoboken High prom-goer. If this was casual, I couldn't imagine what formal would be. Jane was approached by a girl with dirty-blond hair done up in an elaborate twist and diamonds, actual diamonds, dripping from her ears and wrist. "Jane, dear," the girl purred, making it sound half like a greeting and half like a formality. "Hi, Caroline, welcome back. How are you settling in?" "Fabulous. I'm so sorry I haven't been able to catch up with you since I returned from London. Things have been so hectic." Caroline began to look me up and down. "And who is this?" Jane put her arm around my shoulder. "This is Lizzie Bennet. She started last semester." "Bennet? I'm afraid I don't know your family. Where do you vacation?"  The questions. These questions were always the start. It didn't take too long after asking questions about my family -- what they did for a living, where our second house was, the status of my father's 40IK -- that my true identity would be revealed. "LBI," I deadpanned. Caroline's eyes widened. "Sorry?" I wasn't sure if I was imagining it, but I believe I detected a slight British accent. I wasn't aware that you could pick up one of those in a few months. I'd been at Longbourn the same amount of time Caroline had been in London, and I knew I wasn't speaking with an entitled accent. "LBI. Long Beach Island. You know, on the Jersey shore? I'm a scholarship kid, so I don't get off the continent much." I decided it would be best to get it out of the way. "Oh." Caroline crinkled her nose as if she could smell the mediocrity. "Anyway, Jane, lovely to see you. We must catch up soon." She kissed Jane good-bye and turned without giving me a second look. "That's Charles's twin sister," Jane whispered in my ear. "That's Caroline Bingley?" I tried to not groan. "Jane, I seriously question your taste in guys." Jane grimaced. "Charles is nothing like her. He's really close with her and cares what she thinks... but Charles is... he's..." Jane became flushed. "He's right over there." I followed Jane's gaze to two guys who'd just entered the hall. "Which one is he?" "The one on the right." The two guys couldn't have looked more different. The one on the right, Charles, was walking around the room, smiling and greeting people. He had the same dirty-blond hair as Caroline, but his blue eyes sparkled with positive energy. Everybody seemed happy to see him, and he, in turn, seemed genuinely excited to be there. The other guy was harder to read. He was tall with dark hair and a look of eternal disdain etched upon his face. He might have looked handsome if he hadn't looked like he was in pain. "Who's the guy he's with?" I asked. Jane let her glance leave Charles for a moment. "Will Darcy." "Is there something wrong with him?" Jane shrugged her shoulders. "He does look a little upset. Will can sometimes be overly serious, but his brood is worse than his bite. If you get the chance to know him." I had a feeling there weren't going to be many people here this evening that I would want the chance of knowing. And I was pretty sure the feeling would be mutual. "Jane!" Charles made his way right to her. "Just the person I've been waiting to see!" He threw his arms around her and hugged her tightly. Jane was speechless, and her long hair could not disguise her reddening face. Charles, beaming from ear to ear, turned to me. "Hi, I don't think we've met. I'm Charles Bingley." "Lizzie Bennet." He shook my hand and gave me a warm smile. "Lizzie, so good to meet you. I've heard all about you from Jane. She says nothing but the nicest things." Because Jane was a saint. She couldn't say anything bad about anybody. And believe me, I had tried to get her to. Charles turned to his quiet friend, who had been peering around. "Darcy, come here and say hi to Jane and her friend Lizzie." Darcy approached and gave Jane a quick kiss on the cheek. Then he turned toward me and his hazel eyes locked with mine. "Hello," he said, shaking my hand and giving me a small, curious smile. "Hello," I replied. I was slightly unnerved by his expression. He could have been judging me. Or he could have been making a slight overture toward acquaintance. Or he could have been plotting a way to throw me into the fountain outside.  He opened his mouth to say something else, then thought the better of it and decided to walk briskly away. Charles laughed this off. "I don't think Darcy has recovered from the jet lag! Lizzie, it's really great to meet you, but would you mind if I take Jane away for a dance?" Jet lag seemed to be the least likely reason for Darcy's rudeness, but Charles and Jane were so desperate to be in each other's arms on the dance floor that I could hardly prolong the conversation. As the two of them began to dance, I walked aimlessly around the cavernous hall trying to find Charlotte, my only other friend on campus. I weaved through conversations between my fellow classmates -- bragging about opulent holiday gifts, swapping tales of exotic destinations -- conversations I couldn't be a part of. After a few minutes, I gave up and went over to the refreshment table and began to fix myself a cup of tea. "Looks like you just can't stay away from your work, huh?" Cat de Bourgh, daughter of an old Texas oil tycoon, said as she came up behind me. "My dad is just like that, except he runs a multibillion-dollar corporation. He doesn't consider brewing coffee a career." Comments like this would just bounce off my shield. No, I didn't have a trust fund. In truth, I didn't really understand what a trust fund was, except that it made people act like jerks. I always found solace in the fact that I was genuinely more intelligent than the majority of my class, and that while they'd gotten in because of birthright, I'd made my way by talent alone. After all, money can only buy you so much. I turned around and smiled sweetly at her. "I'm guessing your daddy doesn't think saying things like 'venti half-caf, skinny latte' is too impressive, either. But if that makes you feel smart -- when really, you're just asking for a decaf coffee with skim milk -- who am I to judge?" Cat picked up a discarded cup of coffee and smirked malevolently as she poured it onto my dress. "Oops," she said with a smile as she walked away. My upper thighs began to burn from the still-hot liquid. I tried to not make any noise as I quickly grabbed napkins. "Are you okay?" A hand was on my arm, and instinctually I pulled away.  It was Will Darcy. "Oh, sorry," I said. "Yes, I'm wonderful. Great party..." I went to the corner to try to save Jane's dress. The last thing I needed was to go to the ladies' room. The bathroom was one of the most vulnerable places on campus, an easy trap. Just another lesson from my fine education last semester. "Here." Darcy came over and handed me a napkin soaked in seltzer water. "Thanks." I had to try to nonchalantly put my arm up my dress to wipe off my legs. "I agree with you on this being a wonderful party." He leaned in. "I hate these things. Charles had to drag me." "I guess that's something he and Jane have in common -- their powers of persuasion." "And we, despite our better judgment, allow ourselves to be persuaded." "Yeah, well, I guess the two of us have that one thing in common." Darcy looked perplexed. "What makes you think we wouldn't have anything more in common?" I let out a little laugh. I had forgotten that he didn't know about me... and my situation. Darcy turned his attention back to the matter of the ruined dress. "Is it coming out?" I shook my head. While the dress was black, it had a delicate chiffon layer that was becoming crusty from the coffee. "Jane is going to hate me," I said with a sigh. Darcy was confused. "Why would Jane hate you?" "This is her dress. I could never own a dress as nice as this. But maybe now she'll let me stay in my room once and for all instead of trying to turn the duckling into a swan with some borrowed feathers."  "Oh." Something had begun to register on Darcy's face. The amused look had been replaced with a slow understanding of what was going on. It irritated me that he seemed to be helpful and genuinely concerned for me... until he found out about my deep, dark secret. "Yeah, I'm a scholarship student." Darcy grimaced at the word scholarship. It looked like the mere mention of us charity cases caused a migraine. "I see," he replied. He gestured again to the coffee stain. "Well, good luck with that." Then he left as abruptly as he'd come. I stood there with my hands full of dirty, coffee-soaked napkins. I shouldn't have been surprised that once he found out the truth about me he wouldn't want to be seen in my presence. I guess this was a reminder from the universe that nothing was going to be different this semester. I was who I was, and I should have considered myself lucky that there were at least a couple people who accepted me. I headed toward the exit. I had tried to make an effort, and now my effort was done. It was best to not tempt fate any further. "Well, hello, Elizabeth," a voice interrupted. I stopped dead in my tracks. My evening certainly wasn't going to get any better. "Hi, Colin," I replied. Colin Williams was one of the few Pemberley students who would talk to me. At first I thought it was because he was a bigger person than his breeding dictated. (At least one member of his infamous family has had a seat in Congress for decades.) But soon I realized that Colins friendliness toward me was because he was quite possibly the most boring person in the world, and few other people could tolerate being in a conversation with him. Not surprisingly, nobody thought of giving me a heads-up before I got stuck in an hour-long discussion (although, can it be a discussion if only one person was doing the talking?) with him at the beginning of the year about the benefits of private education. (There were many, and he listed them all.) By the time he was through, he was as surprised as I was that I was still standing there. Ever since, he has sought me out at any social event our two schools have had. "How were your holidays?" he asked me now. "Fine. And yours?" "Fabulous -- we went to our house in St. Bart's for Christmas. The weather there this time of year is most agreeable. The record low temperature is sixty-five-point-three degrees Fahrenheit, and we didn't come close to that. In fact, we were well above the average of sixty-nine- point-eight degrees Fahrenheit, which was a blessing, I tell you. A blessing." He brushed off a piece of lint from his tweed jacket. Colin not only dressed like he was thirty years older than his actual age, but he spoke like an elderly professor -- both in his choice of words and the amount of time it took him to get out a sentence. "I do enjoy getting out of the cold of Connecticut, where the average temperature for December hovers around forty degrees Fahrenheit. Which is better than the January average -- but still. Where did you spend Christmas?" "Cranford." He looked at me blankly. "My grandmother lives in Cranford... New Jersey." "How quaint." "Yes, quaint." I looked around, hoping to spot Jane so she could save me. But she and Charles were looking very cozy in the corner. "How are you enjoying this reception?" Colin asked. "To be honest --" "I think the staff did a fantastic job decorating the hall. The lights are reminiscent of the ones we had inside our main foyer at our house in Boston. I don't think you can properly decorate for the holidays without white lights. They truly are beautiful in --" "Colin!" I interrupted. (If I didn't, I was never going to be able to leave.) "I spilled coffee on my dress and really need to get home."  "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that. You know, the best thing for a stain is to soak it overnight in hot water. At least that's according to my former nanny, and let me tell you, she had certainly seen some stains in her day. My brothers and I never saw a mud field we didn't --" "Colin, I've got to go." I didn't even wait for him to say goodbye. I hated being rude to him because he was always nice to me, but I was so miserable I didn't think I could handle another word from his mouth. I was only a few yards away from the exit when I saw none other than Darcy standing there, looking at his watch. Before he could see me, I ducked behind a column, trying to figure if there was another way I could leave. As I did, I spied Charles coming over to talk with his friend, blocking any escape route I could've had. "Darcy, isn't it great to be back?" I heard Charles say. "You have to admit this is a welcome sight, especially after four months in dreary London." "Hardly," Darcy said drily. "I am starting to think that I should have stayed in London. Being back has been harder than I thought. I don't know why I let you drag me to this thing. The girls here are practically foaming at the mouth over prom. And here I was, under the impression that Longbourn girls had class. Silly me." Charles laughed. "What are you talking about? You've clearly let all that English rain dampen your spirits. How could you say that about my sister... and Jane? And what about Jane's friend Lizzie? You should ask her to dance." Darcy groaned. "I don't think so. Did you know she's a scholarship student?" "So?" There was a silent pause. "Darcy, not every person..." "Are you so naive that you would think that the first person I would want to greet with open arms on campus is a scholarship student? Really, Charles? I went to London to get away from --" A flurry of girls heading to the ladies' room blocked the view of my hiding place for a second, so I took the opportunity to walk away. I didn't want to hear another word. I stayed along the border of the hall until Will Darcy had left and the exit was clear. I couldn't believe that he had so much open hatred for the unrich. Silly me for thinking, even for that short moment while he was helping me, that he was any different from anyone else around here. He was the same. They were all the same. I was the only one who was different.  4. JANE SLOWLY OPENED THE DOOR AND FOUND ME FINISHING up my unpacking. "Lizzie, where did you run off to?" she asked. "Are you all right? I was worried about you." "I'm sorry, Jane. I got coffee on your dress. Actually, Cat de Bourgh got coffee on your dress. Or, even more accurately, Cat wanted to get coffee on me, and your dress got in the way. However you look at it, I had a really bad night." "Don't even worry about the dress." "If dry cleaning doesn't fix it, I'm going to pay you back for it." Jane sat on my bed. "Truly, I don't care about the dress. I care about you. Are you okay?" I nodded. I didn't have the energy to tell her about Darcy. Plus, I was positive Jane's evening had been the opposite of mine. Her face was glowing. "I'll be much better once you tell me all about what happened between you and Charles," I said. The glow turned into a blaze. "It was amazing! We spent the entire evening together. He wanted to hear every detail about my holidays. He didn't even shy away about what happened with my dad. And... he really wants us all to meet up soon." "Us all?" "Lizzie, I really want you to get to know Charles." "I will admit, he seems like a good guy." "He really is. Plus, Darcy is considered to be quite the catch...."  A laugh escaped my throat. "Darcy? I know you only see the good in people, but seriously, Jane. That guy is so full of himself. Plus, I overheard him telling Charles that he basically went away to London to get away from scholarship kids." "Oh, Lizzie, stop it!" "I'm telling the truth." Jane patted my knee. "I'm sure you misunderstood whatever you heard." "How can I misunderstand 'I went away because I'm a pompous jerk who can't be in the presence of anybody who doesn't have a trust fund'?" Jane laughed. "Well, if he said that." "Okay, I might be paraphrasing a little. I promise you this -- I am more than willing to go out and get to know Charles. In fact, I look forward to it. But I make no promises when it comes to Will Darcy. Unless someone can promise me that I never have to see him again."  5. I FOUND CHARLOTTE BEHIND A STACK OF TEXTBOOKS IN our common room the following morning. "Whatever happened to no commoner left behind?" I threw my backpack down in the seat next to her. Charlotte looked up from her book. "I'm so sorry. I had every intention of going, but the thought of a quiet evening in my room was just too irresistible." She surveyed the books around her. "I wanted to get a jump start on the reading for this semester, because... well, you know..." I did know. Both Charlotte and I were on permanent probation. Charlotte was on an academic scholarship, so she couldn't get below a B average. And since I was on a music and academic scholarship, I wasn't allowed below a B-minus average. And I had to rehearse with Mrs. Gardiner every day, which was the only thing I looked forward to. While we'd only had one concert so far, I was starting to get a reputation as one of the top music students in the school. Since Longbourn was a finishing school, it prided itself on its arts program: music, painting, dancing. Longbourn was a place where accomplished musicians could retire to Connecticut and make a luxurious salary teaching overprivileged girls. Mrs. Gardiner seemed to relish the fact that she finally had a student who wanted a challenge and could tackle difficult sonatas. But it also meant that, on top of studying, practicing, and working, there was little time left for anything else. "Well, believe me," I assured Charlotte, "you didn't miss much." I conveyed the evening's events. "But," I concluded, "at least Jane's happy. They both seem smitten." Charlotte smiled. "That's so great. What were people saying about prom?"  "Nobody said anything to me about prom. Of course, nobody said anything to me about anything else, either." "Right. Well, I hope Jane gets asked to prom soon. Can you imagine anything more awful than wasting a semester on a guy and then having him not ask you to prom?" "Charlotte, we're scholarship students. We've had way worse things happen to us. In the big scheme of things, going to prom for us is about as important as food stamps are to a Pemberley boy." "Lizzie! Don't you want to go to prom?" It seemed like such an easy question. But to me, it wasn't. Did I want to go to prom? Of course. I used to tear pictures of dresses out of Seventeen's prom issue when I was a little girl, imagining that I was simply one gown away from a fairy-tale evening. But that wasn't going to happen here. Because in my prom fantasy, I not only had a gorgeous dress, I had the perfect guy. I looked at Charlotte, my partner in poverty. "I wish it were that simple," I told her. I wished a lot of things were simple. But that wasn't my reality. In real life, I was a scholarship girl who was going to be late for her barely paying job if she didn't start moving. Sunday afternoons at the Java Junction were always busy. Students from both Pemberley and Longbourn needed a caffeinated fix to cram in the studying they should've been doing all week. I wasn't sure what to expect on the first weekend back from break. But when I arrived, I found myself walking into a madhouse of students. I quickly tied my red apron around my waist and jumped behind the counter. "Just in time." My coworker Tara looked flustered. "I'm surrounded by your kind." Tara Hill was a student at the local high school, and constantly teased me for being one of them -- in this case, the them being the elitists in line. I assured her that if I were truly one of them, I would hardly have been on the same side of the counter as her. And that would've been a loss. Because while I didn't really like having to serve the students from my school and from Pemberley, I enjoyed hanging out with Tara and the other "normal" people I worked with. Not that we always had time to talk. I spent the next half hour steaming lattes, icing mochas, and trying to keep up. "Can I help you?" I asked the next customer, who had turned around to stare out the window. When he turned back to me, I was horrified to discover it was Darcy. He seemed just as perplexed to see me. "You work here?" he asked, making it sound like he'd just walked into his bedroom to find me changing the sheets. I looked down at my red Java Junction apron and tugged on my visor. "No, I thought this was a costume party. Silly me! But since I'm here, I thought that somebody's got to serve the coffee...." He didn't even crack a smile. "Right. Well, I guess I'll have a large, black coffee. Although, please don't hurt yourself." The corner of his mouth turned up slightly. "Yeah, I'm sure you'd enjoy that." Darcy furrowed his brow and stammered a bit. "No, no, I just meant... after your spill last night, you probably... never mind." I turned my back on him and grabbed him his coffee as quickly as possible without scalding myself. "Here you go." I rang up his order. He handed me a crisp twenty-dollar bill and started to walk away. "Your change," I called after him. He turned back around and smiled stiffly. "No, it's okay." "Your change," I said louder, and held out his money in my hand. "Lizzie!" Tara gasped. Darcy hesitated and then came back over and took the money from me. "Are you crazy?" Tara said as Darcy walked out the door. "That was a seventeen-dollar tip!"  I wasn't crazy. I didn't want to fit in with whatever stereotype Darcy had about "my kind." Despite what he may have thought, my integrity wasn't for sale. "You're back!" Jane jumped up from her desk when I walked into our room. "Guess what." I took off my shoes and started to rub my feet. "Does this have anything to do with Mr. Bingley?" "Yes! He invited us both to his family's ski cottage in Vermont next weekend!" Her voice was two octaves higher than normal. "That's great news!" Jane sat down next to me. "So you'll go? You'll switch your work schedule and everything?" I had promised Jane that I would make an effort with Charles, and I knew I couldn't back down now. "Of course I'll go. Although I have to warn you - - I don't ski." "You don't have to ski. You can drink hot cocoa while you study, plus... Charles did say that his family has a Steinway grand piano in their house, so you can even spend the weekend practicing." I had to admit, that did sound like fun. "Sounds great!" "Yay! You're going to love Charles. And honestly, Caroline and Darcy aren't as bad as you make them out to be." I groaned. "Wait. They're going to be there, too?" "Of course. I know you and Darcy got off on the wrong foot. I'm sure it's a simple misunderstanding." I wanted to protest further, but the look on Jane's face was so hopeful, so expectant, that I just couldn't disappoint her. She had been beaming since Charles's arrival, and I didn't want to be the one to tarnish her glow. "Okay, okay," I said, giving in. I was doing this for Jane. Jane, who had done so much for me. Plus, I had every intention of spending the entire weekend locked in our room or chained to the piano.  I would go for Jane. I certainly wasn't going to get to know Darcy and Caroline better. And I wasn't going to enjoy it.  6. THE CARAVAN WAS LEAVING FOR VERMONT AT FIVE o'clock on Friday. I had to work a couple hours after class to make up for the shifts I was missing that weekend, and my replacement was late. Which meant I had to sprint the ten blocks from the Java Junction to meet up with everybody. When I rounded the corner and saw Jane, Charles, Darcy, and Caroline waiting for me, I realized my cheeks were flushed and I was nearly out of breath. Caroline tapped her watch impatiently and looked horrified when she saw me approach. "You must be joking," she said. I stopped dead in my tracks. Despite the fact that she ignored me all week in class, I was positive my coming with them couldn't have been a surprise. I approached them cautiously. Jane and Charles both looked happy to see me. "You're here!" Jane exclaimed. "Are you okay?" "Yeah." I tried to control my breathing. "Tara was late for her shift, so I had to run here." "What on earth is on your face?" Caroline asked disgustedly. "What?" I started wiping my hot, sweaty face. Darcy was studying me, the corners of his lips slightly upturned. Jane laughed. "Oh, I think you have some chocolate...." "What?" I continued to wipe my face. "Here." Jane took out her compact from her purse and I was astonished, and a little embarrassed, to see a line of mocha sauce on my red, blotchy cheekbone. I was a complete mess. Jane handed me a tissue and I did my best to improve matters.  Darcy let out a little laugh -- I was sure he was enjoying this moment, and I enjoyed his company even less because of it. He went over to the backseat of Charles's SUV and opened the door. "After you." He gestured with his hand. I maneuvered into the backseat and took out my calculus notebook. Jane sat up front with Charles, while Caroline cozied up to Darcy in the middle row of seats. I was hoping I could get through my calculus assignment during the two-hour drive. And since Caroline spent the entire time whispering disparaging comments about most of the girls at Longbourn, I was pretty much left alone. Every once in a while Jane tried to bring me into the conversation and I politely answered her questions. Darcy kept glancing back at me and my notebook, as if I needed his help with my assignment. I responded by shifting my notebook so it was out of his view. I finished as the car began to slowly twist and turn through the mountains. I couldn't help gazing in awe as we passed huge log cabins and grand winter lodges. We turned onto a private road and drove for a few more miles. The towering trees and white snow encapsulated the car, making me feel so small and insignificant -- a feeling that I had gotten used to the past few months. The Bingleys' ski "cottage" was a large, three-story birch structure with panoramic picture windows overlooking the mountains. To the left we could see the ski trails -- the massive, deathly looking ski trails. There was no way I was even thinking of attempting to ski this weekend. I had embarrassed myself enough already. After we grabbed our bags from the car, Charles gave us the grand tour of the house. There was only one room I was at all interested in: the living room that contained a beautiful Steinway grand piano. Seeing such beauty, any hesitation I had about the weekend quickly went away. Let everyone else ski -- I'd have music. Charles guided us upstairs. His room and the two guest rooms (Darcy in one, Jane and me in the other) were on the second floor, with Caroline's on the third floor near the master bedroom. Jane went downstairs with Charles while I spent way more time than was necessary unpacking. I was examining the list of homework I wanted to get done when there was a knock at the door.  "Hi." Charles stuck his head in. "I'm so glad you're here with us this weekend." His smile was very welcoming. Jane seemed to have indeed found the one nice guy in all of Pemberley. "We're getting ready to eat dinner and I was hoping you would come down and join us." "Oh..." I hadn't realized how much I was dawdling. It was pretty late and I was starving. As we headed downstairs, Charles looked up at me. "I heard that you're quite an accomplished pianist. I was hoping you could play for us tonight." "Oh, I don't know...." We arrived in the living room where Caroline, Darcy, and Jane were sitting on the couch. Caroline had nestled herself well into Darcy's side, while Jane seemed completely oblivious to their flirtation. I went over to the piano and started to run my fingers over the keys. Some girls dreamed of jewelry from Tiffany or shoes from Jimmy Choo. I, on the other hand, had always dreamed of one day having a Steinway of my own. At home, we had a standard upright that was always in desperate need of tuning. When I played on that piano, it was like trying to use a ballpoint pen to paint the Mona Lisa. With a Steinway, it was like I had all the materials I needed. The rest was up to me. It was a challenge on an even playing field. It didn't matter if I had money or not, what mattered was talent. "Who plays?" I asked, almost to myself. "My mom used to take lessons," Charles said. I let out a frustrated sigh. It killed me that such a beautiful instrument wasn't being used. It was more for decoration than for playing. "Anyway," Charles continued, "Henry has made his famous barbecue chicken with wild rice. You must be starving." I couldn't look away from the shining ivory keys. I just nodded. "Who's Henry?" I asked. "He oversees our house when we're away. And he's one of the finest cooks in the Northeast."  An older gentleman entered from the kitchen and started putting food down on the adjacent dining room table. I wasn't particularly surprised. The Bingleys' parents knew better than to leave their children unattended for the weekend, and I was somewhat grateful to have someone I could sort of relate to. "Dinner should be just a few more minutes," Henry said before retiring back to the kitchen. Charles tapped on the piano. "Lizzie, why don't you play something for us before we eat?" He pulled out the bench for me. "It would be nice to have some music in the house." "Lizzie's amazing!" Jane encouraged me. I hesitated. I was hungry to play, to do the one thing that I always felt comfortable doing. I felt alive, like I belonged, when I played. I sat down and kept running my fingers lightly over the keys. I tried out a few chords and they rang gloriously through the large room. Before I could stop myself, I erupted into the first movement of Bartok's Piano Concerto no. 2. My fingers began flying with urgency as the music unspooled from within me. I instantly eased up from the tension of the trip, letting out all my frustration at the keys. For nearly nine minutes, I was alone. It was just me, the Steinway, and my playing. I rocked back and forth on the bench as my fingers tried to keep up with the challenge that Bartok had laid down. In my head I could hear the accompanying strings and percussion section. At the end of the first movement, my fingers flew up the keys one last time before finishing with a flourish. I was slightly out of breath at the end, my cheeks flushed from the adrenaline of performing, and my mind blessedly clear. "Bravo!" Jane cheered. "That was brilliant!" Charles's eyes were wide. He kept looking from me to the piano. "That was loud," Caroline replied from the couch. She looked bored.  Charles came over and placed his hand on my shoulder. "Lizzie, I don't think our piano could stand to be played by anyone else after that." Caroline got up from the couch. "Is it time for dinner, or are we going to have to listen to more pounding? I already have a headache from the drive." Darcy laughed. "I guess Bartok's not for everybody." "You knew that was Bartok?" I was surprised. He shrugged. "I pay attention in music class." "Please," Charles began to say, "it's more like --" Darcy shot Charles a look, which made it clear that he didn't want him to continue. Caroline sat down at the table. "Well, I guess we know that all it takes for somebody to get a scholarship at Longbourn is the ability to make a lot of noise." Jane came up to me and whispered, "Don't listen to Caroline. She 's just jealous. I don't think she likes the way Darcy is looking at you." "What? She wants to be looked at with absolute contempt?" I whispered back. "Lizzie!" "I'm just saying..." We sat down at the dining room table and began to dive into Henry's wonderful meal. "Are you sure we can't convince you to go skiing with us tomorrow?" Charles asked me. "I'm sure Darcy wouldn't mind giving you some pointers." "Of course," Darcy said, unenthused. "Oh, thanks. But I have this thing against bodily harm." Charles laughed. "I'm sure you'd be fine." "I appreciate your confidence in me. Unfortunately, I'm more comfortable at a piano than in the snow."  "Well, if you are even one percent as good a skier as you are a pianist, you'd no doubt ski circles around us. But I understand. Henry will take good care of you tomorrow. I really want you to make yourself at home here. Consider yourself family." I ignored Caroline's snort. Charles was so genuine and had such a positive attitude, I wished more people were like him. The world, I imagined, would be a better place with more Charles Bingleys than Caroline Bingleys... or even Will Darcys.  7. I WENT DOWNSTAIRS THE FOLLOWING MORNING TO FIND everybody at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and eating an amazing spread that Henry had prepared. "Good morning," Charles greeted me. "How did you sleep?" "Great, thanks!" I helped myself to a bagel. "Charles, is there a bookstore in town? I forgot to pick up a copy of The Canterbury Tales before I left and I need to work on my assignment for English. I thought I could walk into town while you guys went skiing." I walked over to the closet to grab my coat. Darcy got up. "Don't be silly -- I'll drive you." "No, it's okay." He ignored me and grabbed his coat. "Don't you have skiing to do?" I asked. "The slopes aren't going anywhere," he replied as he opened up the front door. It was bright out from the sun glistening off the snow. We walked over to the car in silence, the only noise coming from the fresh snow crunching under our feet. Darcy went over to the passenger side and opened the door. I stopped in my tracks. "I thought you said you were driving." He looked perplexed. "I'm just opening the door for you." "Oh." I felt stupid that such a simple, chivalrous gesture could set off my defenses. I got into the car without saying another word. We began to listen to the ski report on the radio on the short drive into town.  Darcy turned down the volume. "Today is a great day for skiing, are you sure we can't persuade you to join us? It really is fun." "No, thanks," I said as I looked out at the snow-covered mountains. "I don't think anybody would consider a visit to the emergency room fun." Darcy let out a small laugh. "Okay, that seems fair enough. But I can't help but wonder why you would come all this way to a ski weekend if you have no intention of skiing." "Oh, well, that's easy. For Jane. It's the least I owe her." Darcy quickly glanced at me. "The dress?" "No, it's more than that. Jane is everything to me. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for her, so coming along for a weekend is the very least I could do." Darcy was silent for a few moments. "But haven't you only known her for a semester?" "Yes, but we've been through so much..." I paused. "I don't think I could have survived my first semester without her." My voice was quiet, barely a whisper. "I never realized what a luxury kindness could be." I didn't know why I felt the need to confess that to Darcy. Maybe it was my way to talk Jane up to Charles's good friend. Or maybe I was tired of people only seeing me one way. I turned fully toward the window as we arrived downtown, hoping Darcy wouldn't press further. The two blocks of town were filled with chic boutiques, organic food stores, coffee shops, restaurants, and, fortunately, a small bookstore. Darcy pulled over and we went inside. "Over here," Darcy said, leading me to the classic literature shelf. "I needed a copy of Twelfth Night last year." He scanned the shelf and found The Canterbury Tales. "Here it is." He looked satisfied and headed to the register, where he pulled a black card out from his wallet. "What are you doing?" I asked him. He didn't get it. "Did you want to get something else?"  I shook my head. "No. I don't understand why you have your credit card out. You're not paying for my book." As I began to move to the cashier line, Darcy stood frozen. I glanced back at him. "What's your problem?" he asked. "Excuse me?" I replied coldly. "You seem to have a problem not only with me, but everybody else at Longbourn and Pemberley, for that matter." My mouth dropped open. "I'm the one who has a problem? If I thought you were capable of having a sense of humor, I'd think you were joking." "I'm offering to buy your book and instead of saying thank you, you insult me. Why don't you let me pay for it? It really isn't a big deal to me." I grabbed the book out of his hand. "Oh, and it's a big deal to me?" He crossed his arms. "There is really no reason to be difficult about this." "I'm not making anything difficult. I'm buying something for class. I don't need to take a loan out to buy a paperback." "I don't think that's what this is about." "Oh, really?" I said. Darcy had only known me for a few days, we'd barely had a conversation, and here he thought he'd figured me out. "Well, at least I don't have to hide behind my money. I've earned everything I have." "You don't know the first thing about me." I tried to keep my voice down. "And you think you know about me? Tell me, Will, have you ever had a job? Have you ever had to do chores around your house -- oh, I'm sorry, mansion?" He looked down at the floor. "Thought not. You know what? When I was growing up, I always wished that my family was rich. I imagined not having to save up to buy things. I dreamed that it wasn't such a struggle for my parents to pay for my music lessons. But it was. And when I came to Longbourn and was treated like dirt and met people who were more vile and self-important than I thought people could be, I was grateful that I was born middle class. That I haven't had everything handed to me. Because having to work for things makes you a better person." Darcy clenched his jaw. "You're certainly a harsh critic. Did you maybe even try to get to know us before you began judging?" "When?" My voice cracked unexpectedly. "When there were food stamps shoved in my mailbox? When I had to scrub off the 'Hobos not wanted' that was scribbled all over my door? When people were throwing things in my face during my first week? Tell me, have you ever had a milk shake thrown in your face?" Darcy looked embarrassed. He had no idea what I'd been through. And now here he was, the King of the Elites, telling me that I was misjudging them. I went on. "Please tell me at what point between the taunting and humiliation during my first few months was I supposed to get to know people better?" "I didn't --" "Of course you didn't. That's my point." I walked up to the counter and tried to not feel self-conscious when I had to flatten my dollar bills wrinkled from the Junction tip jar in order to pay. Once the purchase was complete, I walked back to the car without even looking at Darcy. I grabbed the handle before he could open the door for me. "In case I haven't made myself clear," I said, once he'd caught up, "I want you to know that I have absolutely no interest in you or your money." I got in the car and slammed the door shut. We drove back in silence. I ran up to my room as soon as we got back to the cabin. I didn't relax until I heard everyone else leave for the slopes.  8. DESPITE THE ROCKY MORNING, I ENDED UP HAVING A GREAT day at the Bingleys' ski house. I got caught up on all my homework, even managing to read ahead in a couple classes, and gave Henry a mini-concert on the Steinway. I was on my second cup of Henry's amazing hot chocolate when everyone else returned from their afternoon on the slopes. Caroline entered with Darcy, laughing and talking his ear off. I picked up my English anthology book and decided I could get even further in my reading. "Hey, Lizzie, how was your day?" Charles asked the second he and Jane entered. He brushed off the snow from his jacket and helped steady Jane as she removed her boots. Their cheeks were bright red from the cold. "It was great," I replied. "Thanks so much for having me." "Anytime!" Charles waited until everybody else was upstairs before asking me his next question. "Um, Lizzie, would you be okay if I took Jane out to dinner tonight? I know that Caroline can be, well, not the most tolerable of people, but you'd have Darcy here to protect you." I tried to not choke on my hot chocolate. It was clear that Charles meant every word he was saying, and at the same time had no idea what he was talking about. Despite my growing displeasure with Darcy and my extreme desire to avoid Caroline, I wanted Jane to be happy. Sometimes friends have to suffer for their friends' happiness. "Of course, Charles," I replied. "Have fun!" I went upstairs and helped Jane prepare for the evening. She was ecstatic to finally go on a real date with Charles.  My own dinner was even more awkward than I could have imagined. I kept to myself, only speaking to compliment Henry or offer help. Mostly I felt like I was a third wheel on a date. Caroline kept flirting with Darcy, reaching across the table to touch his hand at any chance she could get. Darcy, for his part, seemed as bored as ever, especially when Caroline brought up prom. Which she did... twenty-seven times (I counted). "There are so many responsibilities being head of the prom committee," Caroline stated. (Make that twenty-eight times.) Darcy pushed away his plate. "Do you think it would be possible to have an evening that doesn't revolve around talking about prom?" Caroline opened her mouth, but paused. She began to twirl her hair around her finger. "You're right...." She smiled sweetly at Darcy. "Let's get a nice bottle of wine and start a fire." He shook his head. "I should get some reading done tonight." "Ugh, reading? On a Saturday night?" I tried to not laugh as I got up and cleared my place. "Please let me help you with the dishes, Henry," I said once I got back to the kitchen. "Don't make me go back out there." I nodded toward the dining room. He shook his head. "My dear, you have no idea how long I've had to put up with Miss Bingley. Why do you think I don't use the dishwasher?" He gestured toward the stainless-steel industrial dishwasher to his right as he filled up the sink to manually do the dishes. He gave me a wink as I headed to the living room. Caroline was mindlessly flipping through the channels on the large flat screen against the wall while Darcy was busy on his laptop. I curled up on the chaise longue and tried to read. As much as I enjoyed Chaucer, the Caroline Bingley Show was much more entertaining. She leaned over to watch Darcy type. "Tell Georgiana I say hello." "I already did -- do you want me to tell her again?" Darcy didn't even look up from the screen. Caroline placed her hand on Darcy's shoulder. "Well, I just think it is so sweet of you to check up on your sister as much as you do."  Darcy didn't respond and kept typing. "Hmmm." Caroline yawned exaggeratedly. "What an amazing day on the slopes." She got up and began stretching in front of Darcy. She took a deep breath as she reached her arms up to the ceiling, a motion that exposed her midriff conveniently at Darcy's eye level. She continued stretching, bending over to the side and letting out a loud sigh. Darcy closed his laptop, much to Caroline's delight. But then he went over to the couch beside me and picked up his book, not giving Caroline a second glance. Caroline slouched down on the couch beside him. Darcy was entrenched in his book. "Ooh," Caroline cooed. "What a beautiful evening. Yes, I think it is a perfect evening to read." She bit her lip and went over to the bookshelf and selected a book at random. She pretended to be interested in Great Expectations. But after ten minutes, her own expectations had clearly not been met, and she threw the book down. "Lizzie," Caroline said to me. I was in such shock that she was addressing me directly I didn't respond right away. "Lizzie, do you want me to teach you some yoga moves?" I didn't know how to react. I automatically assumed that she was setting me up for something. Darcy set down his book and started studying me as Caroline began doing very complicated poses, obviously trying to impress him. "Not your thing?" Darcy asked me. I shrugged. "Yeah, I guess not." Caroline, satisfied that she had outshined me, sat down on the floor facing us with her legs crossed. "Yoga isn't for everybody. I just really try to challenge myself physically, as well as intellectually, every day." I had to bite the inside of my cheeks to stop from laughing. "I have to admit that I'm not nearly the sibling to Charles as you are to Georgiana." Caroline reached over and touched Darcy on his knee. "Do you have any brothers or sisters, Lizzie?" Darcy asked.  I shook my head. "Your parents must be sad to have you so far away." He looked genuinely interested in my family life. Before I could answer, Caroline kept prodding on. "I try my best to be a good sister, but I have a tendency to take on the big-sister role with so many of my friends. It's hard sometimes, when you put so many others first." Darcy kept staring at me, and it was making me uncomfortable. "Not that you have any faults, Darcy," Caroline continued. I couldn't tell whether she was serious or not. Darcy turned his attention away for a second to look at her. "Nobody's perfect." I let out a laugh. He looked over at me. "Do you think you're perfect?" he asked. "No, no, not at all. Far from it. I'm just interested in hearing what you think your faults are." I found myself enjoying the conversation. "Well." He paused. "Everybody has them, and I'm certainly not an exception. I can sometimes have a bit of a short fuse. I'm not the most forgiving of people. And I'm sure I would be bad at yoga." He looked at me. "Would you care to jump in?" I tried to be polite. "I haven't known you for that long." "But I'm sure you have something to say on the subject?" I didn't need to be asked twice. "I guess the fact that you seem to hate everybody and everything could be considered a weakness." "And I guess your ability to wildly misunderstand people is yours." Caroline jumped to her feet and turned on the TV. She sat back down next to Darcy and started droning on and on about what movie to order. Neither Darcy nor I expressed any opinion, but Caroline didn't seem to notice or care. As long as Darcy wasn't talking to me, she was happy.  9. THE RIDE BACK TO SCHOOL THE NEXT DAY WAS UNEVENTFUL. Charles and Jane were in front laughing and enjoying themselves. Caroline continued relentlessly dropping the P-word (sixty-eight times) to Darcy, who spent the entire trip staring out the window. He ignored me the entire way home, which made me very happy. I had switched my shift at work for the trip, so I had to work on that Sunday night. I preferred Sunday afternoons since it was always busy, so the time just flew. And we got more tips. "What are you doing here?" I asked Tara when I arrived. She looked exhausted. "James called in sick, so I'm doing double duty today." "Yikes." I grabbed my apron. "Well, if it's quiet, you can probably go home early." I started wiping down the counter and cleaning up the tables. There were only a few customers in the seating area, nobody I recognized. I practically had the orders of the Sunday afternoon regulars memorized so at least tonight would be a nice change of pace. "Elizabeth?" I looked up to find Colin studying me. "Oh, hey, Colin. What can I get for you?" I walked over to the counter and tried to look busy so I wouldn't be stuck in a conversation with him. "I didn't think you worked on Sunday nights." "I had to trade shifts." "How nice of you. I figured there had to be a reason. You seem to be someone with a disciplined schedule, which I greatly admire. How was your weekend?" "Good... yours?" He studied the blackboard menu for a few moments. "It was very pleasant. Thank you for asking." "No problem. Can I get you something?" Colin placed his order after what seemed like an hour's deliberation. As I steamed the milk for his latte, I couldn't help but feel he was studying my every move. I wasn't the kind of girl that thought every guy was checking her out, but Colin's gaze seemed to linger over me. "Here you go," I said as I handed him his order, hoping there was enough finality in my tone to end the conversation. "Wonderful. Thank you, Elizabeth." I smiled and began to wipe down the espresso machine, even though it was already clean. Colin eventually got the hint and left. "Tara," said one of the few remaining customers from a nearby table, "I don't know how you deal with those Pemberley guys." "As I recall," Tara replied, "you were once a Pemberley guy, Wick." I hadn't noticed this guy before, which was surprising since he was very cute with his short, dirty-blond hair and hazel eyes. He laughed. "Well, I did get kicked out. You can't really count that against me." Tara motioned toward me. "You better be careful what you say -- Lizzie here is a Longbourn girl." He got up from his seat and approached the counter. "A Longbourn girl working at the Java Junction?" "Make that Longbourn scholarship girl," I corrected. He smiled warmly at me and extended his hand. "Longbourn scholarship girl, former Pemberley scholarship boy." I shook his hand. "Pleased to meet you. Elizabeth Bennet, but you can call me by my commoner name: Lizzie."  "Ah, George Wickham, but my friends call me Wick. So, obviously, at Pemberley everybody called me George." "A Pemberley scholarship boy? I thought such things were an urban legend." He laughed. "True, true. We're a rare breed. More difficult to spot than Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster." "Wick here is the rarest of rare," Tara said. "He's a townie who made it through Pemberley's gates." "Wait a second." I looked at him suspiciously. "The esteemed Pemberley institution would let in... a local? The scandal!" "Yes, oddly enough, it didn't rain frogs. It was the strangest thing." He had an easy laugh about him, very different from any guy I'd met here. I instantly liked him. "I know. All the girls in my dorm are convinced I'm single-handedly bringing the apocalypse to Longbourn." "And by apocalypse, you mean noncouture outfits?" "Wow. You really did go to Pemberley. Only a Pemberley boy would know what 'couture' means." He nodded his head and blushed. "You caught me. You can kick the boy out of Pemberley..." "You really got kicked out?" He grimaced. "Yeah, I guess there is only so much charity one school is able to give...." "Or scholarship students that can be tolerated." "I see you're a quick study." He winked at me. I noticed that he had cute dimples when he smiled. I could feel my pulse quicken. I didn't even notice when the bell signaled the front door opening. Wick looked over to see who it was. Once he did, he suddenly tensed up, his entire demeanor changing. I turned around to see Darcy staring at us with a look of utter contempt on his face.  Wick abruptly left the counter and returned to his seat. Darcy's eyes followed him the entire time, his jaw clenched tightly. Wick picked up his book and turned away so Darcy couldn't see his face. "Can I get you something?" I asked coldly. Darcy jerked back to life. For an instant he looked at me as if I had somehow betrayed him. He shook his head and his stoic facade returned to his face. "Um, yes." His eyes darted back to Wick again. "I guess I'll have a large decaf, please." There was something about the former scholarship boy that had rattled Darcy. Which made me like Wick even more. I handed Darcy his coffee and rang him up. Before he left, he hesitated for a moment. "How late are you working tonight?" he asked. I shrugged. "Depends. Why?" He began to play with the lid of his drink. "Is it really safe for you to be walking back to the dorm this late at night?" "Do you mean besides the usual torture at the hands of my fellow student body?" Darcy clenched his jaw. "I'll be fine." He nodded and walked out. He stared straight ahead as he passed by Wick. As soon as the door swung shut, Wick turned to me and said, "Well, that was awkward." "I take it you know Will Darcy from your Pemberley days?" He sighed. "Yes, unfortunately. You could say that we were once on friendly terms. But you seem to be friends with him, so..." I groaned. "Hardly. I've known him for a week, and I find him to be the most egotistical, condescending person on the planet." Wick laughed. "So you do know him well." "You got me there."  Wick approached the counter. "You really need to start being more careful about who you're seen hanging out with." I smiled at him. "Are you referring to Darcy or yourself?" "Depends on who you ask." "Hmm, I guess since there isn't a way for the esteemed ladies of Longbourn to despise me even more, I will hang out with whoever I choose." "Well, then, Longbourn scholarship girl, do you think you'd ever entertain giving charity to a disgraced Pemberley boy such as myself?" "What do you have in mind?" "Your phone number would be a good start." I gave it to him without hesitation. I was ready for a good start.  10. WE HAD OUR FIRST DATE ON WEDNESDAY NIGHT. WICK took me to a pizza place that was in a part of town that I hadn't been to before, a very non-Longbourn establishment. "Hey, Wick!" a girl behind the counter greeted him. "Couple of slices?" "I didn't know you were working tonight." He leaned over the counter and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Couple slices would be great. Lizzie, this is Cassie. Cassie, this is Lizzie." He motioned toward me and the girl smiled at me. "I'm saving her from the elitists over at Longbourn." He looked over his shoulder and then said in an exaggerated whisper, "She's a scholarship student." I couldn't help but laugh. I knew that nobody in this place would care. It was nice to be somewhere that I didn't feel the need to constantly look over my shoulder or think that I was being set up. "Here you go." Cassie handed us each two slices. "You know your money isn't good here, Wick," she said as Wick reached into his pocket for his wallet. "Aww, you're the best." He winked at her and we headed over to a booth. "See, Lizzie, you need to start finding the right kind of friends." He motioned down at our free food. "I've known Cassie since kindergarten. There's a group of us that have been close friends for ages. I don't remember life before them, you know? I'm sure you have people like that back home. It was hard for me to leave them behind and I was only down the road; I can't imagine what it must be like for you." It was the first time in a while that I'd felt comfortable and open around a new person. Being with Wick felt normal, natural. He was open, honest, and self-deprecating in a very, very irresistible way.  "I still can't believe a Longbourn girl has agreed to be seen with me in public," he said after I'd told him more about life back home in Hoboken, and the switch to Longbourn. "The prima donna police have probably sent out a search party." "Not likely. They're probably changing the locks as we speak." "Still" -- he gave me a smile that made my stomach flip -- "you're a brave one." "Believe me, the bravest thing I'll be doing this evening is entering my dorm. The goal is to try to get back to my room without someone throwing something in my face. But you're all too familiar with the treatment of our kind." Wick played with the wrapper of his straw. "Actually, things weren't that bad for me at Pemberley." "Really?" For the first time since I'd met him, I didn't know whether or not to believe him. I couldn't comprehend that the guys at Pemberley would have any compassion for people like us. "Really. I even had friends, if you can imagine that." "Wow, that's impressive. I have Jane and Charlotte, but that's it. Jane is always trying to get me to go out more, but every time I do, the evening ends in either bodily or emotional harm. She's pretty relentless, though. I've already agreed to go to this party on Saturday night, despite my better judgment." "Charles Bingley's party?" I was surprised. "Yes -- how did you know about that?" "You don't give us townies enough credit. We find out about the parties, and a few of us usually crash. With all the students around, nobody seems to notice." "Please tell me you're going to come on Saturday." I tried to hide any hint of desperation in my voice. Having Wick there would make it bearable. Plus, I wanted to spend more time with him.  "Now you've put me in a tough spot. If you're going to be there, how could I not show up?" Wick smiled at me, but then his smile faded. "Sadly, I have a feeling someone else will be there, and there's no way I'd be welcome." Wick hesitated. "There's something I want you to know, and I want you to hear it from me." "Okay..." I leaned in. "It's about why I got kicked out of Pemberley." "Wick, you don't need to --" "Yes, I do. I'm surprised people haven't started trying to turn you against me yet." I hadn't really told anybody about Wick. Jane knew I'd met someone from town, but I hadn't told her he was a former Pemberley student. I didn't know why, but I wanted to keep Wick to myself. "I don't care what anybody thinks of you," I told him now. "You should realize that I would know better than to believe anything anybody at Longbourn or Pemberley would say to me." Wick nodded. "I'm so thankful my caffeine habit brought you into my life." What a clear, powerful emotion -- thankfulness. It hadn't occurred to me in a long time that I could be someone that another person would be thankful for. Not for anything I'd done or said, but simply for who I was, and who I had the potential to be. After spending the school year in a world of torture (at worst) and indifference (at best), to have such open thankfulness expressed to me gave me something I hadn't felt in a long time: hope. Maybe this semester was going to be good after all. "Okay." Wick took a deep breath. "Here's the story. I started last year as a sophomore. Met a lot of cool people, and the fact that I was a scholarship student wasn't an issue. I knew a lot about the students at Pemberley from being a townie, and Darcy and his family's reputation preceded him. I was looking forward to meeting the infamous William Darcy and we hit it off really well. We were friends from the moment we met. "Darcy took me under his wing. It was only a few weeks into the semester, and he brought me into the city to meet his family. I fell in love with them. His dad is this incredible man, which is why I don't like saying anything bad about Darcy, because his father is a kind, generous person. He even arranged for me to have a summer job last year at his law firm. That would have set me up -- not only with a way to earn money, but to get experience that would have been amazing on my college transcript. Things were going well for me. And Darcy couldn't take it. He loved having me under his wing, having some sort of control over me. But he didn't like seeing me fly by myself, making things happen without his influence. He became increasingly competitive with me. And when he thought he might lose, he stabbed me in the back. Before I knew what was happening, I was being escorted off campus." I gasped. "Darcy got you kicked out of Pemberley?" Wick nodded, the color draining from his face. "I don't believe it. How could anybody be so awful?" A knot formed in my stomach. "Why would he do that?" "Maybe it was jealousy over my growing relationship with his father. That's all I could think of. I spent most of spring break with his family, and while he was his usual cold and distant self, I didn't understand the treachery he was capable of. I went home for a couple days before returning to campus, and in that time, he set his plan in motion. When I got to my dorm room, campus security was waiting for me." "But that's ridiculous. They can't just kick you out for no reason." "Oh, they had some trumped-up charges, some accusations he'd made. But what would I fight them with? My family didn't have money for an attorney. And the Darcy men had been going to Pemberley for generations. I'd been going for months." My mind was swirling with what Wick told me. "We can't let him get away with this." Wick leaned back in his seat. "Someday, Darcy will get what's coming to him, but it isn't going to be from me. I couldn't do that to Mr. Darcy. It's not his fault that his son is a liar and a scoundrel." "You're a far better person than I," I said. "Hardly. After all, I'm going to crash a party this weekend."  That was really all I wanted to hear Wick say. But my mind kept reeling over what Darcy had done. Jane had nearly convinced me that I'd been too harsh on the guy, but apparently I hadn't been harsh enough. As Wick drove me back to campus, I didn't want the evening to end. I didn't want to have to go back to the taunts and bullying. I liked spending time with someone who was like me. He parked the car and turned off the engine. "Do you need a moment to prepare for battle?" he asked, only half joking. "I guess." I looked at the beautiful building that had been my home for the past five months. "I had a really great time tonight." "Me too." Wick leaned over... and gave me a hug. "I'll see you on Saturday," he murmured. "Promise?" He smiled at me. "Promise."  11. I CAME CLEAN TO JANE THE NEXT EVENING AT DINNER. IT should've been suspected that when I relayed Wick's story to her, she didn't share in my disgust at Darcy's actions. "George Wickham, Lizzie? I haven't heard good things about him." Jane looked worried. "There's a surprise." "I'm sure there has to be an explanation for all of this. First, Darcy wouldn't do something like that. Second, Charles would never have a friend who was so despicable. It's probably just a simple misunderstanding." "Misunderstanding?" I was astonished. "Why is it that I'm always misunderstanding something? How could someone misunderstand being expelled from school without just cause? Didn't you hear anything about it last year?" Jane looked thoughtful. "I do remember he got kicked out, and that Charles knew him, but it wasn't something Charles talked to me about." I couldn't believe that someone getting kicked out of Pemberley wouldn't be gossip du jour at Longbourn. Jane continued. "I'll ask Charles and see what he has to say. But, Lizzie, just be careful. And please give Darcy a chance to explain his side. You have him painted as this maniacal villain, and it couldn't be further from the truth." "You're just saying that because Darcy being a vengeful loon would reflect poorly on Charles." Jane ignored me and cut up her salmon. Our silence lasted only a moment, until Lydia stormed over to our table and dropped down her overflowing tray. "Jane, I just spoke with Mommy and she said she talked to Vera about your prom dress." Jane looked around the dining hall. "Shh, Lydia. I haven't been asked to prom yet. Keep it down." Lydia grunted. "Please, Jane. Anyway, Mommy said that you have an appointment with Vera when we go home over Presidents' Day weekend, and then you'll have your fitting over spring break. Vera -- aren't you just dying?" I believed Jane was dying, but from embarrassment of her brash sister. Lydia shoved several French fries in her mouth and asked, "Where are you going to get your dress, Lizzie?" "Well, I highly doubt I'll be going to prom. I guess if I go, I'll probably just get it at Macy's or something." Lydia's jaw dropped open. "You can't do that! It's prom!" I took a deep, calming breath. "I know, but it's just one night and I really think it's silly to spend thousands of dollars on a dress you only wear once." I turned to Jane. "No offense." "None taken," she replied. "Lydia, you really need to learn to be more modest. Not everybody is lucky enough to have connections with designers." Lydia snorted. "Please! This school is all about connections. But I haven't told you everything yet. Mommy said that we can't go anywhere over spring break this year. Can you believe that? She said that since Daddy hasn't gotten a job yet, we shouldn't go galloping through Europe." "I'm sure she said gallivanting through Europe, and I agree with Mom, Lydia. We're going to have to start making some... sacrifices." Jane looked uncomfortably at me. She knew that their sacrifices would be of the business-instead of first-class variety. "That's so not fair!" Lydia pouted. "It isn't our fault that Daddy's business was sold. Why do we have to be punished?" "Lydia!" Jane exclaimed. "Enough! You sound like a spoiled brat. You should feel lucky that Dad got a nice severance package or we'd be out on the street. I don't want to hear another word about this." Jane got up from the table, and I joined her. How they both came from the same family, I would never understand. Jane put her tray on the conveyer belt. "I'm really sorry about that, Lizzie. She was always very hyper and into materialistic things, but being here has made her worse. I don't know what I'm going to do with her." She looked behind her to make sure Lydia wasn't in earshot. "I haven't told her yet about the party on Saturday. Charles told me to invite her, but..." I understood. Lydia could be a little too much at times. "You're still coming, right?" Jane asked. "It should be fun." We'd had variations of this conversation so many times before, with Jane telling me something would be fun and it turning into a headache for me. "Of course," I told her as I always did. I was, after all, excited about this party. Just not for the reasons Jane thought. I didn't want to tell her it was because there would be some unexpected guests. I should've felt some remorse, since Charles had been nothing but kind to me. But my desire to spend more time with Wick eclipsed any feeling of betrayal I had.  12. JANE, BEING JANE, ENDED UP INVITING LYDIA TO CHARLES'S party. It was either because she is perhaps the greatest (and most forgiving) older sister on the planet, or because she was in especially good spirits, since Charles had asked her out on a date for Sunday. That would make two nights in a row they would spend together. Maybe Jane's mother had been right in giving her old friend Vera a call. Nothing could ruin Jane's mood, and because I was going to be seeing Wick, nothing could ruin my mood, either. For the first time since I'd arrived at Longbourn, I was genuinely excited to be getting ready for a party. I spent the majority of Saturday going through Jane's closet, trying to figure out what to wear. I didn't want to wear anything that screamed expensive, since I didn't want Wick to think I was like every other girl at Longbourn. But I did want to look nice for him. Jane studied herself in the mirror while I debated between which earrings to wear with the jeans and gray, fitted cashmere sweater I'd borrowed. Lydia came barging in. "My first upperclassman party! I am so excited. Freshman boys are, like, so childish." Jane studied her sister with wide eyes. Lydia was wearing a very short skirt and had enough makeup on to put a circus performer to shame. Jane grabbed a tissue and started wiping Lydia's face. "Jane, stop it!" Lydia protested. Jane was not deterred. "Lydia, you shouldn't cover up your natural beauty." My hand paused as I was putting on another coat of mascara. Since she hadn't been talking to me, I continued. But a little more lightly than before.  "Now, remember what we talked about." Jane sat down next to Lydia, who nodded. Jane had only allowed Lydia to come after Lydia agreed she wouldn't talk about money or prom dresses. "Are we ready?" Jane asked as she studied herself in the mirror one last time. I think she was asking herself more than us. She took a deep breath and opened the door. We arrived at a large private room at one of the upscale restaurants in town that catered to the faculty, students, and parents of Longbourn and Pemberley. It was a beautiful space, filled with oversize couches, a large window overlooking the river, candles, and a slightly elevated stage where some students were already dancing. I scanned the room for Wick, but couldn't see him anywhere. "Who are you looking for?" Jane asked when she caught me surveying the crowd. "Just having a look around. I want to make sure there aren't any traps." Jane grimaced. "Only joking!" I said. I felt my phone vibrate and saw that Wick had sent me a text. "Oh." "What's wrong?" My heart sank. "Oh, nothing. Nothing at all." Wick wasn't coming. He said that he really wanted to, but thought it would be best to avoid a certain gentleman. I glared over at Darcy, who was in a corner with Charles and Caroline. Any hope I had for a wonderful evening quickly dissolved. Now I was stuck in a room full of people who despised my very existence. Instead of hanging out with Wick, I would have to brace myself for whatever was going to come my way. "Are you sure you're okay?" Jane looked concerned. "Yes, fine," I lied. I didn't want to ruin her evening. A waiter came over with a silver tray filled with wontons and egg rolls.  "Yum." Lydia grabbed a handful of food. "So much better than the crap they serve in the dining hall." She made a disgusted face as she shoved an entire egg roll in her mouth. Jane sighed. "Hey!" Charles approached us with a huge smile on his face. "Thanks for coming." He kissed Jane lightly on the cheek before hugging both me and Lydia. While Jane chose to never see the bad side of people, I sincerely believed that Charles didn't have a bad side. He even put up with Lydia's incessant questions about the party, the food, the private room -- I was surprised she didn't ask him to open up his wallet so she could see how much cash he was carrying. While Lydia played twenty inappropriate questions, I started looking around to see who was there. The standard cash cliques were in their respective groups, but I did catch a few of the Longbourn girls whispering and looking at us. I looked down at my outfit, but realized that I could be dressed head to toe in designer clothing and they'd still look at me with disdain. I was a reminder that there was life outside the precious little bubble they lived in. And I knew that they despised me for many things, but most of all for thriving despite their best efforts to bring me down. I brought my attention back to my group and could see Jane's eyes getting wider every time Lydia opened her mouth. "Charlotte's here," I said, nodding toward the door. "And Lydia, they just brought out something that looks like quesadillas." As I thought she would, Lydia homed in on the server and mercifully left us. I leaned in closer to Jane and whispered, "Have fun with Charles. I'll keep an eye on Lydia." Jane smiled gratefully and went over to a group of couches with Charles. I waved Charlotte over, but Colin, mistaking that my enthusiasm was for him, approached as well. "Hello, Elizabeth," he said. "It is a pleasure to see you here, and dressed in such a pleasing manner. What blend is that fabric?"  "Yeah, uh, nice seeing you as well." He leaned in and put his hand on the small of my back. "Elizabeth, do you think I could persuade you to join me on the dance floor?" "Oh, um. Have you met Charlotte Lucas?" Charlotte and Colin exchanged pleasantries. I was hoping this distraction would keep me from dancing with Colin. "So, shall we?" Colin motioned toward the platform where a few couples were moving to a slightly slow song. I couldn't think of a good excuse, so I decided that I may as well get it over with. I walked with Colin to the dance floor and, once there, he awkwardly grabbed my waist and I cautiously lowered my arms around his shoulders. I didn't realize until we were standing there that he was a couple inches shorter than me. He started to move and stepped on my foot. "Oh, I'm so sorry," he said, staring at our steps as if they were a math problem he could solve. "That's okay." I started to move back and forth, trying to not make my movements too sudden. "Well, you certainly are a good dancer." "Thanks." "You know, Elizabeth, you can play the piano, dance, are smart enough to get a scholarship and, might I add, make a mean latte. Is there anything you can't do?" I forced out a laugh. "Oh, you know..." "Know what?" "Sorry?" "You were saying, you know. What am I supposed to know?" Colin looked at me expectantly. I didn't have anything to say. And I wasn't one hundred percent sure, but I think Colin was under the horrible impression that I was flirting with him. My back stiffened. "No, nothing. Sorry."  He nodded. "No, no, it should be me who apologizes. I simply misunderstood. It is something that can happen easily, especially when the music is playing at such high decibels." "That's okay." "Once again, Elizabeth, you are too gracious." "Uh, thanks." "You are more than welcome." I tried to avoid any more awkward exchanges by pretending I was enthralled by a painting that hung on the wall behind Colin until the song thankfully ended, allowing me an escape from my misery. "Having fun?" Charlotte laughed as I approached. "Tons. You?" She shrugged. "These things have gotten easier for me --" Charlotte bit her lip. She had always felt guilty that the torture she endured became less severe when I'd arrived on campus. I was fresh meat. She tried to smile. "Plus, the food's good." She held up a miniburger. "That does look good. I --" Darcy was suddenly in front of us. "Hello." "Uh, hi." "I was hoping that you could join me for a dance." I was completely shocked by his invitation. When I didn't respond, he said, "I'll see you in a moment." And with that, he walked away. "Wait a second." I looked at Charlotte. "Did Will Darcy just ask me to dance?" Charlotte's mouth dropped open. "That's Will Darcy? Lizzie, he's hot." "What?" "That guy" -- she motioned her head in his direction -- "is hot." "Are you crazy?"  "He really must have made a bad impression on you if you can't see that not only is he gorgeous, but that he obviously has a thing for you." "Oh, please..." Charlotte paused. "And I think you have a thing for him." "What?" She laughed. "If you don't have any feelings for Will Darcy, why are you blushing and fixing your hair?" I pulled my hands away from my hair. "Okay, you've clearly lost your mind. There is nothing going on between me and Darcy. Obviously, he's setting me up for something." "Lizzie!" "I'm serious. Plus, he asked and then just disappeared. He's planning something." "Yeah, well, he's heading over here again." Darcy stared intently at me and nodded toward the dance floor before walking over there. I looked at Charlotte. "Am I supposed to follow him?" Charlotte pushed me. "Will you just go already?!" I was in a daze as I got on the dance floor. It was like having an out-of- body experience. I found myself going through the motions, but also looking around trying to figure out where the ambush was coming from. Darcy slipped his arms around me, with much more ease than Colin had, and before I knew it, we were in something approximating an embrace. Darcy was several inches taller than me, and he leaned his head down so our eyes locked. I was face-to-face with the enemy. "I see you made it home safe the other night," he said. "Yes. I'm touched by your concern for my safety." I broke away from his stare, but ended up being greeted by dozens of eyeballs transfixed on us. At first I thought they were waiting for something to happen. But then I noticed the jealousy on the girls' faces. And outrage. It seemed that not a single girl in the room could believe that Pemberley's most eligible student would be slumming with me. "You know" -- I turned back to him -- "working has many benefits. It's a really great way to make new friends." Darcy clenched his jaw. "Ah yes, George Wickham. He's really good at making new friends. Retaining them, however, has always been a challenge for him." "I'm sure he cries himself to sleep every night, thinking about losing such a wonderful friend as you. How will he ever recover?" Darcy greeted my response with silence. We swayed to the music for the remainder of the song. When I thought I was going to be free, he tightened his grip around my waist. A new song began. "So, what kind of music do you like to listen to for fun?" Darcy asked out of nowhere. "Excuse me?" "I thought I'd change the subject." "Oh. Were we discussing something you weren't comfortable with?" "No, I was just trying to see if there was something we could talk about that wouldn't end up in an argument." "Ah. Good luck with that." "Yes, apparently I'm going to need it." His attempt at being friendly unnerved me. "You know," I said, "I can't figure you out at all." "Really? Are you finding yourself thinking a lot about me, then?" The conceit, again! "Hardly. But you don't seem to make any sense." "And you do?" He smirked. "At least I'm consistent." "And I'm not consistent?"  I thought for a moment. "No, I guess you are." I stepped back from him and pulled my arms away. "You said that you think I have a problem with people with money. But I think you have a problem with people without money." He looked down at the floor. "You're right. You don't understand me at all." "Well, I guess we're a lost cause." I turned my back on him and walked off the dance floor. I tried to not seem desperate as I looked for Charlotte in the cluster of people around the room. I felt a tug on my arm. It was Caroline, who was with Cat. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked accusingly. "I don't know what you mean," I said. She looked disgusted. "I heard from Jane that you've been hanging around with George Wickham." "So?" Her lip curled up. "So? He's not to be trusted." "I'm sorry, Caroline, but I really doubt you have any concern about who I hang out with or my well-being." "I couldn't care less about your well-being," she admitted. "But I do care about Darcy. The mere mention of Wick upsets him. After everything Wick has done to him." "What Wick has done?" Caroline grabbed my arm tightly. "We don't want him around, okay? We heard that his little group was thinking of coming by tonight. Believe me, we put a stop to that. And to think that my brother and I have been nothing but kind to you. You only think about yourself, don't you?" "Caroline." I spoke slowly so that, hopefully, one of us could start understanding the other. "I don't know what you are talking about. Yes, Charles has been very kind to me. I know there are issues between Darcy and Wick, but why should that matter to me? It's not like I'm friends with Darcy... or you. Who I hang out with isn't really any of your business."  "Suit yourself." Caroline walked away. I went to find Jane, but Cat blocked my path. "You know, scum, for someone who claims to have no interest in Darcy, you seem to spend enough time with him." I turned and walked away. Jane was waving me down from the other side of the room. "Lizzie!" She approached me with a worried look. "What was that all about?" Even Jane knew something had to be off if Caroline and Cat were speaking to me. Especially Caroline -- her influence over her brother and his unexplained respect for her were the only things about him that I didn't like. After I relayed the exchange, Jane sighed. "Lizzie, I haven't been hearing good things about George Wickham. You should be careful." "Not you too." I didn't like that Jane would take Caroline and Darcy's side. "It's not that. I asked Charles, and he said that the story Wick told you was an absolute lie." "Yeah, but whatever information he got was from Darcy. So, in my book, it shouldn't be trusted." Jane looked over at Charles. "I don't know, Lizzie. Charles couldn't tell me exactly what happened because he made a promise to Darcy, but he really doesn't have a reason to lie to me." "I know, I know...." "JANE!" Lydia barreled over to us. "I'm having so much fun. Can you believe I'm the only freshman here? Like, this totally has to be a huge mark for my social standing. And, can you just imagine, I mean, what if I get asked to prom, too?" Lydia screeched so loudly that half of the room turned around to glare. "Lydia," Jane whispered. "Please." Lydia didn't hear her. Or, more likely, chose to ignore her.  "Caroline!" Lydia shouted to a stunned Caroline. "So, like, during spring break, we're going to Vera's for our prom dresses. I mean, for Jane's dress. Do you know if a freshman has ever gone to prom? Like, ever?" Caroline looked at Lydia with even more disgust than she usually reserved for me. "No," she said dismissively. "Prom is for junior women at Longbourn. While it is tradition for most of the women to be taken by men from Pemberley, some exceptions are made." She shot a look at me. "But any straying from custom is frowned upon." "Do you want to come with us to Vera's?" "I will be spending my vacation in Greece." Lydia squealed again. "That's so awesome." Caroline nodded coldly. "I mean, I wish we were going somewhere, but no..." Lydia started sulking. "Like, Daddy got millions in his buyout, so the fact that we can't go somewhere fabulous like Greece is so unfair." "Lydia!" Jane stood up and pulled her sister away from Caroline. "Enough!" The majority of the students on our side of the room had heard everything Lydia had said. "I'm just having fun," Lydia protested. "You're so uptight." Her eyes grew wide and she started jumping up and down. "No. Way. This song was, like, THE song from camp last summer. I totally remember the routine we came up with." An up-tempo pop song started playing on the sound system, and before any of us could stop her, Lydia was on the dance floor, spinning around with her arms stretched out. In less than ten seconds, she cleared a space of about ten feet around her. She was relishing the attention. Jane was horrified. "Please make her stop." Her voice was nearly inaudible. I headed over to the platform. Lydia was doing something that looked like the Charleston, but with her usual manic energy. She started spinning her fists in the air and shouting "WOO!" every few seconds. I could hear the snickering as I passed through the crowd. "Um, Lydia." I got as close to the platform as I could safely get without bringing too much attention to myself or getting kicked in the face by Lydia's current attempt to channel a Rockette. The performance was pure agony to watch. How Lydia could've thought she was impressing people was beyond me. I wanted to look away, but it was one of those horrifying scenes that you just can't take your eyes off of. Just when I thought it couldn't get worse, she did jazz hands. Full-on, Broadway-style jazz hands. When the song was over, Lydia took a deep bow. A few of the guys started whistling while the majority of the Longbourn girls were laughing. A few had even recorded the dance on their phones. Poor, poor Jane. "Oh!" Lydia exclaimed when the next song came on. I quickly grabbed her arm. "Lizzie, let me go!" she protested. I ignored her and dragged her along until Colin stepped in my path. "Why, Lydia, that was delightful," he said. "Thanks!" she replied. "You really have such a great enthusiasm. I haven't seen leaps like that since an evening I spent at the Joffrey Ballet during fall break last year. I remember that time of year so well because it was unseasonably warm. The program was a delightful one -- you may have enjoyed it yourself...." Colin was making things worse. What we needed was to get Lydia out of there, but Colin was prolonging the embarrassment by giving a detailed review of her performance. Finally, Jane couldn't take it anymore. She rushed over, grabbed Lydia, and walked her outside. "Oh, well..." Colin was taken aback by Lydia's abrupt departure. "So, Elizabeth, dare we take the dance floor again in hopes of repeating that splendid performance given by Lydia?" There wasn't an ounce of sarcasm in his voice. He was being completely sincere.  "I..." I glanced at the door. I really needed to go help Jane. Or possibly prevent a murder. Fortunately, Charlotte came to the rescue. "Colin, I was hoping you could tell me more about your family's sailboat." While Charlotte was getting an earful, I dashed outside. Jane was sitting on the curb, shivering. "Jane," I said, "it's freezing out here. Come inside." "I can't. I'm so humiliated." "W