Prom and Prejudice

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.

Nine

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."