Darcy Lewis is nine years old when she realizes that her father is a serial monogamist. She reads about it in a book that she checked out at the library. She's been spending a lot of time there since her dad moved them to California on marriage number four.
The last wife-Stacey-was nice, but Darcy would've hated her even if her father hadn't. She wasn't Diana Reid. She didn't come with the added bonus of Spencer.
This new one is different. Her name is Elizabeth, and, even though she's only been Mrs. Lewis for three weeks, Darcy feels sorry for her. She knows what's going to happen to her. Her father will break it off, divorce her, and move onto another woman- in search of another replacement for her mother.
He's a serial monogamist, Darcy thinks to herself. Or something like that. Spencer would know.
He's at the California Institute of Technology now. She knows this because they talk on the phone every Friday night, when her dad and Elizabeth have their date night (if he's in town). Darcy is so tempted to jump on a bus and never come back. It's not like her dad would miss her anyways. He's too busy with his work, and his marriage, and scrutinizing everyone around him to notice her missing.
She saves up her allowance for weeks until she has enough to buy a bus ticket to Caltech. She packs the book about relationships into her rainbow butterfly schoolbag and purchases a ticket. She leaves the city early one Saturday morning while her dad's out of town. Elizabeth is busy and won't notice that she's gone. Nobody will notice her disappearance.
Spencer would, Darcy thinks to herself. The thought makes her sad. The only person who would report her missing has been kicked out of her life.
Pasadena is four hours away from San Diego. She knows that the ride is dangerous. She can hear Spencer in the back of her mind spouting kidnapping and human trafficking statistics. But she's careful. She keeps her head down and avoids detection. She steals Elizabeth's bear spray and clutches it in her hand the whole trip.
Spencer opens the door and stares down at her, clearly shocked. "What are you doing here?"
Darcy frowns, glancing up at her once-brother and current-best-friend. He's changed. He's taller-scrawnier. He's different. And yet, he's still wearing those dorky, broken glasses that are too big for his face.
"You cut your hair." Darcy pushes into his dorm room, taking in the bare walls and the bookshelves filled to the brim with books. Fiction, nonfiction, poetry-it doesn't matter to Spencer. He devours it all.
"I know." Spencer closes the door behind her. "Did you come here alone, Darce? That's seriously unsafe. One in three runaways is kidnapped or forced into…" He trails off, gulping as he realizes that whatever statistics he was about to spout aren't appropriate for a nine-year-old girl.
"I didn't run away, Spence." Darcy drops her bag onto the ground before collapsing onto Spencer's bed. "I'm just here for the weekend."
"Your father-"
"Won't even notice that I'm missing." Darcy sighs. She sits up, studying Spencer. He shifts nervously as if he is unsure how to handle the situation. Knowing him, he probably is. Darcy reaches out, grabs his hand and pulls him down beside her. "Besides, I brought protection." She grabs the bear spray out of her bag and hands it to him. "Bear spray."
Spencer's eyes widen. "How did you get this? You can't buy it-you're too young."
"Elizabeth's into camping." Darcy falls back down at the comforter and stares up at the ceiling. "She keeps trying to get us to go on a 'family camping trip' but Dad threw all of her gear in the attic. I don't think it's going to happen anytime soon."
Spencer nods.
Darcy rolls her eyes. "Relax, Spence. Nobody's going to miss me. Nobody ever does."
"I miss you."
Spencer speaks so quietly that Darcy wonders if she was supposed to hear him. His words bring a smile to her face. Spencer misses her. He misses living down the hall from her. Maybe, he misses her as much as she misses him. Wouldn't that be a miracle?
"I miss you too," Darcy says. Her eyes trace over the dots of his popcorn ceiling. Spencer flops down beside her. Darcy glances towards him, meeting his eyes. "My dad- is he a serial monogamist?"
Spencer frowns. "I haven't really thought about it. I suppose that he is-although he seems to be more focused on the wedding than his relationships. He's constantly getting married, and immediately placing the women he marries under a microscope. It's almost as if-"
"He's trying to replace my mother," Darcy finishes for him. Spencer nods. "Yeah. I figured that one out with Stacey. She didn't really like me. She was a kindergarten teacher, but she didn't want to have kids. She always talked to me like I was one of her students."
"I'm sorry."
Darcy shrugs. "It doesn't matter."
"On the contrary, it does. It matters a lot. Children who grow up in one-parent households are at a higher risk for future drug addiction and failure. That's only heightened when the household is unstable."
Darcy's face falls. Spencer's always been a fact machine and he's told her this particular piece of information a couple of times. This time, though, it really hits her. She's a statistic. She's a number on a chart in a book that Spencer reads. She sits up abruptly.
Spencer places a hand on her shoulder as he sits up. "Hey. Hey. I'm not saying that's going to happen to you, Darce. I just-"
"I'm a statistic," Darcy says.
"No, you're not."
"I am."
Spencer grimaces at her words. "We both have only one parent. If you're a statistic, then so am I."
Darcy laughs bitterly. "You're not a statistic, Spencer. You're a genius."
"I am," Spencer agrees, "but there are a lot of geniuses in the world. Two-point-two percent of the population has an IQ over 140. That's a lot of people. But there's only one Darcy Lewis in the world."
A smile tugs at Darcy's lips. "There is."
"Well, I mean, statistically speaking-"
"Spencer," Darcy cuts him off.
"Yeah?"
"You were on the right track." Darcy leans her head against his shoulder. "I know there's more than one Darcy Lewis in the world. I'm nine, not stupid."
"I never said you were. What matters is that you're my Darcy Lewis. You're my best friend."
Darcy grins. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Don't worry, genius. You're my best friend too."
"That's good." Spencer ruffles Darcy's hair, causing her to push him away.
"Hey!" Her hair is already messy enough naturally. She doesn't need Spencer's help messing it up more. "Don't do that!"
"Okay," Spencer relents easily, raising his hands in surrender. She jumps up, ruffling his hair, which isn't nearly as fun as it was when he had long hair. "Darcy!"
"Your short hair is stupid," Darcy exclaims, "You should grow it out."
"I'll get right on it."
"I can understand sarcasm, Spencer . I'm serious."
"Okay." Spencer chuckles. "Darcy," there's a serious note in his voice, "You can come here whenever you want. Just promise me that you won't take the bus anymore."
"What am I supposed to do instead? Ride the train?"
"Ask your dad or Elizabeth to take you," says Spencer. "Just promise me that you won't take the bus. If something happened to you because you were coming to visit me…" His eyes go distant as he retreats to his mind, coming up with some imaginary scenario where Darcy has no doubt she is brutally murdered. He needs to stop reading so many crime reports, she thinks.
"Okay. Fine. Whatever. I promise. I'll ask Elizabeth. She's always trying to get me to spend more time with my friends."
Spencer grins. Darcy can't help but grin back.
Spencer takes the bus home with her that Sunday then catches it back to Pasadena. After that, Elizabeth starts driving her up every weekend. Darcy thinks Elizabeth is grateful for the break from her high-energy step-daughter. She gets the house all by herself. Darcy thinks she's having an affair, but it doesn't matter to her. Not so long as she gets to crash at Spencer's every weekend.
She sits in the front seat, clutching her overnight bag with a smile on her face. Spencer is one of the only things that make her smile these days.
Darcy is ten years old when her theory is proven right: Elizabeth is sleeping with the pool guy.
What. A. Cliche.
Her dad divorces Elizabeth, but they stay in town for his job, which means that Darcy continues to spend the weekends at Spencer's, only now he picks her up. The moment Spencer turns sixteen, he gets his license. Her dad buys him a beat-up car as a thank-you-for-keeping-an-eye-on-Darcy present.
Sometimes, they explore the town together. Other times, Darcy sits on the floor of his room reading Nancy Drew books while Spencer works on his homework. It doesn't matter to her what they're doing. All that matters is that he wants her around and that they're together.
Darcy is eleven when she and Spencer watch the ball drop on New Years. She turns to Spencer and says, "It's 2000."
"A new millennium," Spencer agrees.
Her dad's at a work party.
Four days before her twelfth birthday, Darcy meets Justin Britt. He's new to her school, and very, very cute-in a tween boyband sort of way. He's got dazzling eyes and a one hundred watt smile, and it takes Darcy all of five minutes to fall in love with him.
Her science textbook falls out of her locker just as he's walking by. Brandi Summers, one of the most popular girls in seventh grade is giving him a tour of the school. Justin bends down to pick it up at the same time as her-it's the perfect meet-cute moment.
"I believe this is yours," he says in a southern drawl, offering Darcy her textbook. Darcy's pulse races. Her heart stutters.
"Yes-I mean-Yeah-it's mine." Darcy stands at the same time as him. He's only an inch or two taller than her-he doesn't tower over her like Spencer does. And he's really cute. Darcy gulps. "Thanks."
"What's your name?" asks Justin.
"Darcy. Like Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice. "
Lord, she sounds like an idiot. Why couldn't she have a cool name like Brandi?
Justin nods. "I'm Justin."
"Like Justin Timberlake," Darcy says automatically.
Justin grins. "Yeah. Like Justin Timberlake."
"Come on, Justin." Brandi loops her arm through Justin's. "I've still got to show you the choir room. I'm in the top choir."
Darcy didn't even try out for the choir.
"That's cool," says Justin. He winks at Darcy. "I'll see you around, Mr. Darcy."
Darcy melts.
Every time he passes her in the hallway after that, he calls her Mr. Darcy, which Darcy simultaneously hates and loves. She wants a normal name-a cool name-but at least he remembers her's.
"But you like your name," Spencer says when she complains about it one weekend. "Your mom gave it to you."
Darcy has to admit that it's true. For a long time, she liked her name. It's one of the only things that her mom ever gave her. Growing up, whenever she was missing her mother she would write her name over and over and over again. The wall of her closet is filled with her name written in sharpie and pencil and crayon.
"But it's not cool like Brandi."
Justin hangs out with Brandi outside of school. He eats lunch with her. All that Darcy ever gets are nods in the hallway and Justin asking for her help in their shared social studies class.
She can feel Spencer examining her, and she plops down on the sofa in his tiny apartment. He moved off-campus when he started his doctorate, and now he rides his bike everywhere. He only uses the car her dad bought him to pick her up.
He's taller too. He towers over her in a way that makes her feel small and insignificant. She knows that he doesn't mean to, but he does. It's hard having a seventeen-year-old genius as your best friend. Nobody at school gets why Darcy spends so much time at Spencer's.
Nobody except Justin.
She told him about Spencer, and he thought that he sounded cool. Spencer, on the other hand, is wary of Justin. He hasn't said anything bad about him, but Darcy knows that he doesn't like Justin. She can see it in his eyes.
"Your name is great, Darcy. You shouldn't want to change it-especially not because of some boy."
Darcy huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. "You don't understand. You're not normal." She regrets the words the moment that they leave her mouth.
Spencer's face closes off, shutting down as he refuses to give her a reaction. Darcy hates it when he does this. It means that she's hurt him.
"Spencer. I didn't mean-"
"You're right," Spencer says, "I'm not normal."
"But that's not a bad thing." Darcy scrambles to fix the injury she's caused. She can't lose Spencer. He's the only person who's ever cared about her. "I like that you're different. You're extraordinary."
A smile tugs at Spencer's lips. "Thanks, Darce."
Darcy grabs his hand and squeezes it. "I knew you couldn't be mad at me forever. It's impossible. I'm too cute."
"Cuteness has nothing to do with it."
Darcy grins. "Keep tellin' yourself that, Spence. Maybe if you say it enough time it'll come true."
Spencer rolls his eyes in response.
The summer after seventh grade, Justin Britt invites Darcy to his swim party. He lives in the same neighborhood as her and invites half of the grade, but all that matters to Darcy is that she is on the list.
Darcy wears a one piece, covered up by a t-shirt and shorts. She doesn't take them off. She's started to develop-to go through puberty- and both her dad and Spencer tried to give her the talk. She listened to her dad and immediately shut Spencer down. The last thing she needed was statistics on teenage pregnancy and the science behind menstruation from the genius who remembers everything he reads.
Brandi Summers wear a bikini. Justin Britt says 'hi' to Darcy and actually talks to her. They sit beside the grill as his dad makes hot dogs, and Darcy wonders what it's like to have a normal family like Justin. Normal is so cool.
Spencer takes her camping that summer. They travel to Yosemite for a week and study trees, and bugs, and birds. They go hiking together and it's the best experience of Darcy's summer.
Her dad gets remarried in August. This one's name is Lisa. Darcy wonders how long it's going to last.
When school starts, Darcy tries out for the school musical because Justin Britt does. He gets the lead while she lands in the chorus. They still smile at each other-talk on the walk home.
"You're a really cool girl, Darcy," Justin says one afternoon on their walk home. He bumps his shoulder against hers, smiling at her in a flirty way.
"Really?"
"Yeah." Justin nods. "You're not like other girls."
Darcy doesn't know what that means, but she feels like it's a good thing. If she's not like other girls, then that means that she's special. She wants to be special to someone.
Justin halts in the middle of the sidewalk. Grabbing her hand, he turns her around to that they are face to face. Suddenly, he leans forward and kisses her. As his lips brush against hers, Darcy's pulse spikes. Her heart jumps in her chest. Then, just as soon as it started, the kiss is over. Justin pulls away and smiles sheepishly.
"You're cool, Darcy. I like that." With those words, Justin retreats up his driveway and disappears into his house.
Darcy is in heaven.
Darcy is thirteen and it's the closing night of the show. Her dad is out of town, so he can't come, but Lisa and Spencer do. After she peels off her costume and wipes the makeup from her face, she races to congratulate Justin. When she steps out of the bathroom, he's standing in the center of the cafeteria with an arm around Brandi Summers's shoulders.
That's when Darcy hears Madison from Props say, "Brandi and Justin finally made it official. He even gave her a promise ring."
Darcy freezes. He gave her a promise ring. He's never given Darcy a promise ring. He's never given Darcy anything...except for a kiss. Why'd he kiss her if her liked Brandi? Why'd he say that she was cool?
"Darcy." Lisa places a hand on her shoulder, startling Darcy out of her thoughts.
Her cheeks are wet as hot tears stream down her face. How could she be so stupid? Of course, a boy like Justin would never like someone like her. Muttering her pathetic excuses, Darcy pulls away from Lisa, racing towards the nearest exit.
The doors bang shut behind her as Darcy finds herself surrounded by the brisk November air. Everybody is still inside congratulating the actors. The tears are coming faster as she gasps for air, trying to calm her nerves. She can't see the world around her. All that she knows is that she wasn't enough for Justin Britt. She wasn't cool enough or pretty enough. She wasn't enough. Again.
Two arms wrap around her, engulfing her in a hug. Darcy inhales the scent of ink and paper and Walmart brand cologne: Spencer. She cries into his oxford, staining his shirt with her tears.
"That's good," Spencer murmurs. "Let it out." She's expecting a speech on puberty-on how her heightened emotions are natural-but instead, he says, "He's an asshole. He's not worth your time."
"I'm not enough," Darcy says between sobs.
Spencer pulls back. His hands grip her shoulders as he stares at her, shocked. "Of course you're enough. You're perfect. Who's the genius here?"
"You."
"Exactly. I'm much smarter than that idiot. You are more than enough, Darcy." He shakes his head and pulls her back to her chest. Darcy wraps her arms around him, sinking into the hug. "If he can't see that, then screw him. Darcy's a great name."
He holds her until she stops crying, and, when she is done, he takes her to get ice cream-his treat. For a few short hours, while she's with Spencer, Darcy forgets all about Justin Britt.
Darcy really is a great name.