Quick Author's note: Thank you so much for all the reviews! They really mean a lot to me. Here is the promised update! Enjoy!
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Chapter 4: Shoo, Fly, Don't Bother Me!, Billy Reeves
January 3, 2007
New year, new semester. Time to get a fresh start. Winter break was a blessed escape from boys.
Quick mid-day update: Just passed George in the hallway. He totally just smiled and winked at me. I think the only thing that could ruin this day would be getting stuck in class with Will. I don't think I could take another semester with Mr. Stick-up-his-butt...
Lizzy's heart sank upon entering Mr. Gardiner's 5th period English class.
Leaning against the table of computers, looking oh-so-cool-and-casual, was none other than the one and only brown-eyed soccer star.
This is going to be so awkward! I haven't seen him since the party…
Lost in her thoughts of dread, Lizzy was unfortunately unable to avoid tripping on the leg of a front row desk. The metal desk leg, having long ago lost its rubber foot, screeched for a horrible six inches across the linoleum.
For one panicked moment, Lizzy could have sworn his eyes flashed in her direction as she made her way (significantly more carefully this time) through the desks. Sneaking a sideways glance and noting his uninterested appearance, she quickly mentally shrugged off the idea deciding that her egotistical brain was playing tricks on her.
Taking note of Collin's seat in the second row (and guiltily ignoring his hopeful glance as she walked past), Lizzy purposefully sat in the back row, slightly off center. Not the corner… That would be way too obvious. She spent the few minutes before class agonizing on possible seats he might choose and calculating the possible awkwardness level of each choice, all the while schooling her face into the perfect combination of bored and indifferent.
The one-minute-before-class bell chimed and students began filling in the remaining desks. Will casually pushed off from the computer table and made his move towards one of the few unoccupied desks. Lizzy, determined to appear uninterested leaned her head into her hand and concentrated on drawing circles in the back of her notebook. Upon looking up, her eyes grew wide. Is he serious?!
Will Darcy was sitting right in front of her.
At least he can't see me…
Will leaned back into a more comfortable position and Lizzy found herself unconsciously leaning forward.
Wow he smells really good.
Lizzy sat up straight and shook her head to clear her thoughts. Even good smelling jerks are still jerks. Lizzy resumed her notebook doodling until the final class-is-starting bell rang. Looking up to see if class was indeed starting, Lizzy's heart sank just a little bit lower.
Oh dear God, please no…
Caroline, the captain of the cheerleading squad and self-proclaimed princess of Hertfordshire High, gracefully made her entrance. She pranced her way through the classroom to the last available seat. Lizzy leaned further into her hand and shrank a bit more into her chair, bemoaning the empty desk next to hers that would soon become the permanent residence of Her Highness.
As Caroline passed by Will, he stiffened in his seat. Lizzy wondered at the gesture, but her confusion went away as soon as Caroline took her seat. A thick cloud of eye-wateringly potent perfume filled the air.
Fortunately, before a lengthy awkward silence demanded small talk, Mr. Gardener called the class to attention. Will, Lizzy noticed, leaned back into his chair again but his back remained tense.
"I hope you like the people you are sitting next to," Mr. Gardener began (Lizzy rolled her eyes), "because I'm splitting you all into groups of three. Your groups will be responsible for analyzing and presenting a poem."
Mr. Gardener sent a stack of handouts down each row of desks as he counted off the groups. Lizzy's earlier panic and dread returned as she realized the likely members of her poem group. Mr. Gardener confirmed her worst fears.
"Will, Elizabeth, and Caroline. You will be analyzing The Flea, by John Donne."
Will turned around in his seat to hand Lizzy her handout. Lizzy squeaked out a quiet "thanks," which was drowned out by the clatter of moving furniture. The groups of students began moving their desks around to face other group members. Lizzy pushed and angled her desk over to Caroline's as Will turned his around. Caroline simply sat, leaning languidly forward, looking absolutely pleased. Her low-cut top and healthy cleavage became all the more pronounced.
Lizzy looked at Will to see if he noticed, but his expression was all business as he focused on the poem. Lizzy forced herself to do the same.
A few minutes later, Caroline's saccharine voice joined her nauseating perfume. "So, Will, when is your next soccer match? I can't wait to see you out on the field."
Lizzy looked at Caroline and just about gagged. She's actually batting her eyelashes. I can't believe her.
"Saturday. An away game," Will replied stiffly. "Why don't we break the poem up by stanza? One each. I'll take the first stanza."
Lizzy nodded in agreement, more than welcome to keep the conversation strictly business. "I'll take the second stanza."
"And I'll take the third one," Caroline unnecessarily added. Looking down at the poem, she wrinkled her nose. "Gross, why would someone write a poem about a bug. This is stupid."
Lizzy's love of British poetry overpowered her reservations about picking a fight with the cheerleading princess.
"It's not about the bug. The flea is a metaphor for the, ah, relationship that the narrator wants but the woman refuses. It is also a really fascinating contrast between the explicit content of the narrators intentions, and the silly imagery of the flea."
Caroline looked as though Lizzy had spoken a foreign language. "Well I still think it is a stupid poem. This is so unfair that we have a project so early in the semester, don't you think so, Will?" Caroline had resumed the eyelash maneuver. "Some of us have better things to do than read a bunch of silly poems."
Lizzy would have felt the sting of the personal attack if it weren't for a pair of widened brown eyes.
"I wouldn't consider this a silly poem. The poor guy is desperately trying to swoon the woman. The woman is desperately trying to put off his advances. Tell me Lizzy, whom do you side with? The narrator or the woman?" Will questioned, eyebrows raised in amusement.
Lizzy was uncomfortably aware of the fact that her stomach flipped when he said her name. However, she was quite comfortably pleased with the sour look that appeared on Caroline's face.
"Personally, I side with the flea. The narrator is too pushy and can't take a hint to get lost. The woman on the other hand was a little cruel and uncaring. The flea was only innocently doing what a flea does best. It's not his fault that he had accomplished what the narrator could only dream of or that such an act would offend the woman." Lizzy straightened in her chair, gaining confidence.
"Of all the times I've read this poem, I never thought to side with the flea. Interesting." Will nodded with an approving smile, sending a warm fuzzy feeling to join the butterflies in Lizzy's stomach. Lizzy immediately decided to do whatever it took to see that smile as much as possible, squashing any remaining vestiges of her previous "I hate Will" notions.
By the end of class, Lizzy was rather enjoying herself, amused by unexpected positive turn of events. Will appeared pleased as well, a hint of his smile remaining as he wrote down a few final notes.
Caroline, however, looks positively pissed. She slumped in her seat, scowling at the offensive poem on her desk. Even her perfume had lost its edge, Lizzy thought.
The bell signaling the end of class rang and Lizzy began to gather her things.
"I'll, ah, see you tomorrow Lizzy."
I could really get used to hearing him say my name…
"See you!" Lizzy nodded goodbye, trying to contain herself. She wasn't sure if her joy was from Will's attention or in seeing Caroline prance out of the classroom in a pout, her nose held a fraction of an inch higher than normal. Lizzy watched Will's back as he too exited the classroom, wondering at both his manner towards her and her own internal reaction to that manner.
"Lizzy! Hey!" Lizzy jumped at the unexpected sound of her name coming from a much less appealing voice. She forcibly kept herself from cringing as she turned to see Collin grinning a little too widely. Why is he sweating? It's still winter…
"Hey Collin," Lizzy said cautiously. Almost afraid to ask, she continued, "What's up?"
Collin leaned against the wall in an attempt to look suave, the image ruined by his Christmas-themed sweater.
"Well, I was, ah, wondering… I mean, I know this is like way early and all… but I figured since we've been friends for so long that maybe, well…"
Oh shit.
"You know, I wanted to offer you the privilege of being my date to prom." Collin bowed forward slightly and held out his hand in offering.
Stunned into paralysis, Lizzy simply stared at his hand.
What do I say? What do I say? Wait… privilege? What is he trying to say?
Lizzy looked up from Collin's hand to study his face. He definitely looked nervous and awkward but there was also a hint of unnerving confidence. His eyes revealed no doubt that she was going to accept his offer.
Taken aback and slightly offended, Lizzy replied. "Collin, I can't go to prom with you. I'm sorry but I'm interested in someone else." Lizzy slung her backpack onto her shoulder and made a move towards the door of the classroom.
"Now Lizzy, I know this is sudden. You really don't even have to answer me so quickly. If you want to think about it for a few days, that's fine. I even like the idea of you playing a little 'hard-to-get.'"
Lizzy spun on her heel to face Collin, who was moving after her through the maze of desks.
"The answer is 'no,' Collin. I'm not playing 'hard-to-get.' I'm serious. I don't want to go to prom with you." Lizzy almost felt guilty at the harshness of her words. The thought of Collin following her through the hallway trying to swoon her over pushed away any thoughts of guilt. Leaving Collin standing bewildered without words in the doorway of the classroom, Lizzy took off for the parking lot to meet Jane.
That evening, Lizzy could not help but think murderous thoughts towards a rather large housefly was buzzing merrily in her bedroom window.
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Author's note: If you want to read the actual poem by John Donne, just Google "the flea, donne" (I wasn't sure about copy write laws of posting it on here for y'all). I highly recommend reading it in conjunction with this chapter. It is a fantastic poem written by an amazing British poet. And it will help this chapter make a bit more sense.
Updates are going to be about every two weeks. I'm a perfectionist when it comes to writing so it takes me about ten minutes to write one sentence. :)
As always, I appreciate reviews. Let me know what you liked and what you didn't like. I greatly value your feedback and critiques!!
