Prom and Prejudice

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything to you sooner," he began.

I cut him off. "Oh, it's fine. You didn't need to say anything to me. It's not like we were, um, dating or anything."

He leaned back in his chair. "I don't want you to be mad at me -- I do have an ulterior motive with Sylvia. Her dad runs a pretty big law firm in New York. Entertainment law, not nearly as prestigious as Mr. Darcy's corporate law office. But since that didn't work out, I thought I'd try to make a connection a different way. An internship at his law firm practically guarantees acceptance at an Ivy League school."

I was trying to reconcile everything Wick had said to me in the past about the spoiled brats at Pemberley and Longbourn with what he was saying now.

He continued, "I know that I must seem like a hypocrite to you. That's why I didn't want to tell you. But you're still fairly new to the whole rich crowd. Lizzie, you've got to understand that we need to take advantage of our situations when we can. Hang around with them long enough, you start to appreciate it, even as you work to undermine it. There's a big difference between connections and connection. What I have with Sylvia is a matter of connections. What I have with you is a matter of connection. One is vastly more important than the other, and I'm sure you can imagine which it is."

All I could do was nod. I excused myself and went to the back room. I was equal parts hurt, angry, and embarrassed by his revelation. I really liked Wick, and I'd foolishly thought he liked me. Maybe, in a twisted way, he still did. But what really did matter most -- connections or connection? He was the first guy I met here who'd understood me. He liked me for who I was. But was that enough? After all, I didn't have a rich family or fancy job prospects.

He hadn't once mentioned that he liked Sylvia. Did that mean he could still like me? Or that liking had nothing to do with it? Could I truly fault him for taking advantage, when I knew that neither of us would ever be given an advantage?

I looked at my gray coat hanging on the employee coatrack. Colin still refused to admit he bought it for me, so I couldn't have returned it even if I wanted to. But even though I knew that, I wondered: Did keeping the coat mean that I was taking advantage of my situation? Did I feel the same way about Charlotte going to the prom with Colin that I did about Wick and Sylvia?

It was bad enough to see friendship and love in terms of politics. But seeing it in terms of business was even worse. I looked out from the back room and saw Wick patiently waiting for me. Then he looked up. Saw me. And we hung there for a moment.

I knew I was overreacting to what he'd said because I wanted him to like me. I was taking it personally.

The question was: How personal did it really get? Was I frightened by his desire for connections, or by my own lack of them? I stayed there in the doorway until he got the hint and left. It's very easy to get a boy to leave a room. It's much harder to get him to leave your thoughts.

Seventeen

THE FOLLOWING WEEKS BECAME A CYCLE OF SCHOOL, homework, practice, and work. The pranks and vitriol lessened as students started studying for midterms and the prom committee called meetings practically every evening. The piano had become the only bright spot in my day. I felt like I was accomplishing something, anything by making my way, slowly yet surely, through Rachmaninoff.

Jane and I stayed in most nights. She became more and more depressed as the list of girls with prom dates grew and grew. Adding insult to injury, she was having a very expensive dress made for her. Her mother seemed to think that everything would eventually work out, and didn't want her to be unprepared.

Neither one of us even bothered to attend the "mandatory" prom orientation meeting where the rundown of activities was discussed, media release forms were handed out, and preinter-views were scheduled. (Charlotte decided to brave the meeting, only to be told the wrong room. Then, when she finally arrived, they claimed they didn't have any more forms for her.)

I had even begun looking forward to work more, as it was my only real social interaction during the week. Wick didn't come in nearly as much anymore. Being around each other was suddenly awkward. For the first time since I'd met him, I felt censored. I couldn't be open around him and tell him what I wanted to say: Why her? Why not me? But we both already knew the answer to those questions.

While Wick stayed away, another presence emerged. Much to my dismay, Darcy began making regular appearances during my shift. I tried to avoid any conversation with him besides inquiries into his beverage selection.

"I think that guy has a thing for you," Tara said one day, motioning to Darcy.

"Hardly," I replied. "He despises me. Although probably not as much as I detest him."