A/N: Hello everyone! Getting back into the swing of things now, so it should be (potentially) smooth sailing for little while.

Thesis: The American Public School is a dictatorial government with all focus on statistics and the amount of work given out, and no focus on the depth of the work given.

Reasons: I HAVE FIVE PROJECTS TO DO. ON VERY UNINTERESTING TOPICS. I have papers every night and my weekends are no longer weekends. I HAVE NO TIME TO DO ANYTHING.

Relief: Writing it down logically, keeping my head completely cool and calm. Kicking the crap out of pads at karate. Screaming. Drama Class (which, ironically enough, adds to my workload).

Bridgedweller: thank you for that sparklingly positive and down-to-earth review. Needless to say, I am holding my breath for the next installment, and will do my utmost to conform to your every whim.

Customary Tip of the Hat, Customary Shwoop,

Chapter Twenty-eight: Three Good Reasons

Uhh.

Uh-ba-buh-ba-buh.

Ba buh.

I had absolutely no idea what to say. And, since you know me pretty well by now, you realize that my brain function is turned on high, although the amount of actual things that accomplishes is minimal. So you can bet that me with nothing to say is a monumental occasion.

Darn tootin'.

I mean, HE was there. And that makes perfect sense, considering that I was in his house, and a guy has every right to be in his house...soaking wet...with a motorcycle helmet in his hand...

But the point is, I had no right to be there. So really, the issue was that I was there. And so was he. And we were in the same room together. Well, not together, really, I mean, because you know we're not together—and we couldn't be—which is why there was supposed to be an ocean and a couple islands between us.

The real question (besides who framed Roger Rabbit) was why the hell hadn't he thrown me out yet? Shouldn't he be asking (demanding) that I vacate the premises or he'd call the police, or something to that affect? What was the world coming to that this age-old hatred of former significant (or not so significant) others could be ignored?

"Well," he said again.

Good start, keep going.

"Welcome to Pemberley. How—how are things?"

"Uh-ba-buh."

"Oh...good..." he looked down at himself, and must have suddenly realized he was making a puddle on the kitchen floor, because he excused himself, and strode out.

The second he was gone I made a bee-line for the kitchen door, shaking my head and muttering to myself like the absolute lunatic that I am.

"Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stu--"

"You know, normally I would agree with you, Liz, but what the hell is going on?" Eddie and Rachel had caught up with my pleasure cruise around the kitchen garden, and for some reason looked confused by what had just happened.

It was pretty obvious to me, however that 1.) I had been surprised yet again by Will Darcy's sudden unexpected appearance, 2.) Will was insulted by my presence, and (thank God) had enough self-control to not run me out on a rail.

"Do you know what he's probably thinking right now? He's thinking, 'Golly that was embarrassing, good thing it ended when it did, I never want to be seen with her again.'"

"And this is a bad thing? Just two hours ago you were telling me how much you hate him!"

"Yeah well that still doesn't help anything, now does it?"

I wanted to curl up into my favorite fetal position and die. It was absolutely clear where my life heading from here. I would end up living with my seven thousand cats and drinking Moxie for medicinal purposes. I would lose my sense of taste and smell, and would be found five weeks after I died face down in a bowl of Life cereal, which I had forgotten how to eat. My life, from that moment on, would be a downwards spiral to hell, helped by the Highland Experience and my own amazing combination of horrible timing and stupidity. I was-

But before I got to the part with me naming all my seven thousand cats Figaro out of respect for the Disney (trademark symbol) empire, Will Darcy caught up with me. His feet were still bare, but he was no longer wet, giving my poor, weak brain no clingy shirt to deal with.

"You're not going yet, are you?" he panted, matching my speed with long strides. I tried to go faster, but it's the short person's dilemma to have some tall, long-legged person to escape from and have only short, stubby ones to run away on.

"Uh—yeah, we've gotta go. We have...stuff to do."

No one ever said excuses were my high point.

"Lizzy, wait!" he grabbed my arm and stopped me. I found myself, for the second time in my life, looking deep into his hazel eyes and committing mental suicide for being a corny, cliché romance heroine who says things like "I looked deep into his hazel eyes."

God, I suck.

"Why not stay for a bit? You don't look well, and I can give you a ride home whenever you want to go. Besides," he added, looking up to see Rachel and Eddie in our wake, "I haven't met your friends yet."

"Oh, well... right. Um, this is Eddie, my uncle, and his wife Rachel. Jen stayed at their house when she went to New York." I glanced at Will, trying to find some kind of reaction, but he merely shook Eddie's hand and said, "Pleasure to meet you both."

What was happening? The Will Darcy I knew would have realized how poor these people were and would have already made judgments about their characters. The Will Darcy I knew would have coldly offered for the car to take us home right away.

This was freaky-deaky in the extreme.


"How long have you been in Scotland?" he asked as we walked toward the lake. He was in full Scottish-mode now, with all the traces of his American accent gone.

"Er- four days, give or take." My voice sounded harsh and whiny next to his drawl, making me even more uncomfortable about this whole "Changed Darcy" thing.

"How long have you been back?"

Good, complete sentences for a change, we're improving.

"About three weeks now, but I haven't really had a chance to be home for a long time. Charlie thinks I don't get out enough, and so the result is that he takes his sisters and me all over the place, and I'm out too much."

"Don't submit to peer pressure."

"Quite."

Silence.

And this silence was absolutely companionable, no awkwardness or expectations or anything, just a good, friendly silence.

A least, it was for him. I was going crazy trying to a.) think of something to say that wouldn't make me sound stupid/desperate/like a constipated duck and b.) not stare at him, his house, or my shoes for a long period of time.

And I was failing.

What the hell was wrong with me? The last time I had been this tongue tied was when Frankie Sullivan had actually tied my tongue to a pole in second grade (don't ask me how, some memories shouldn't be relived). Every minute I was there felt like I was taking crazy pills, and I had to leave now, or I'd start screaming "God save the Queen!" tearing out my hair and running around the field, jump over the wall and never be seen again.

Another embarrassing moment to cap off a lifetime of embarrassing moments.

The weird thing was: I liked this Darcy.

Eww, not like that, you losers.

I wanted to know him, that was all, and for some obscure reason, I wanted him to know me. He was as different from the old Darcy as Speedy Gonzalez was from his band of drunken compadres.

Which is very.

In case you didn't know.

Because Speedy Gonzalez is...well, nevermind.

The point was that Darcy was different, and I, on my peaceful lake of non-biased judgment, was wracking my brain to find something, ANYTHING, wrong with him.

I only have so much self-esteem here, people, I have to work hard to preserve it.

But you know, for all my talent at finding fault with people around me, I had no such luck this time.

None.

Zip.

Nada.

Niente (perhaps?).

I mean, not only was he polite to my aunt and uncle, who were so obviously below him, he wasn't sarcastic, scathing, condescending, demanding, commanding, or reprimanding. He was...well, not perfect, obviously, because that doesn't exist.

But he was pretty close.

The one thing I couldn't reconcile with this Darcy for the New Age was the way he had treated Jen and Charlie. Maybe there was still something I didn't get, but I couldn't see how he could have made a mistake like that and still stand by it.

But I, Lizzy Bennet, Apprentice in the Art of Diplomacy and All Things That Take Brain Cells To Accomplish, was learning one of the most important things in life: When to shut up.

Shock! Amazement! Horror, even!

But it was this silence, frightening though it may be to perceive, that led to what happened next.

"Lizzy... I hope you won't think I'm a nutter for askin' you this, but...If you and your aunt and uncle want to... why don't you come meet my sister tomorrow, make a day of it? She wants to meet you--" he paused, then rushed on, "—and you're here, and it would be a nice way to see Scotland minus the double-decker and pink visors."

Did he just ask me to spend the day with him? Like, as in he wanted me within a fifteen-mile radius? Can these things actually happen? IS THIS THE REAL WORLD? Or is it a virtual world controlled by brain-eating machines, and will the body that encapsulates this mind that is trapped inside the Matrix soon be harvested by robots???????

"AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"

"What the hell—is something wrong, Lizzy?"

"Wha? Uh—no. Hehe, no no no no no, not at all sir. No."

"All right... then you'll come tomorrow?"

"Yes."


(Journal Entry # page 766)

As I watched her drive away in my car, I realized two things:

Firstly, that I had no freakin' idea what to say to her, and that I probably looked like an idiot to her while she was cool and collected (minus the whole screaming bit).

And Secondly, that I was in love with her again. Still. Still and again. And this was absolutely going against everything I had told myself about my situation only days previously.

In these two realizations, I came to the conclusion that if she was meeting us tomorrow afternoon, and if she was within a fifteen-mile radius of me, I would never have the chance to fall out of love with her, which had always been a part of that genius post-rejection plan.

But as I saw her turn around and wave to me from behind the driver's seat, came to the elementary deduction that I had no intention of doing so, nor ever would again.

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry about this lateness too, I won't make excuses about it, because you don't want to read them. But I do want to make two announcements, one happy, one sad.

First, the good news: THE RED SOX WON THE WORLD SERIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!! For everyone out of the whole American baseball loop, the Red Sox are the team from Boston, and the World Series is the championship that all American teams compete to play in at the end of the baseball season (read: October). The Red Sox have not won this annual competition in 86 years, since our star player, Babe Ruth, was traded to our arch rivals, the New York Yankees, in the peak of his career, thus creating the Curse of the Bambino, wherein we have never won a World Series in almost a century. Now that you've had your American history lesson, it's time to celebrate! YEAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now for the sad stuff: President Bush was indeed re-elected, in maybe the stupidest move America has ever made. I will say no more about it, because then I will probably start ranting, which you don't want to read, but I feel like this is one of the mistakes that will last my entire lifetime, with repercussions across borders and decades.

And yes, I do know where Finland is, although I might not be able to say the same for all my classmates. But my friend Tessandra and I (her father works for this cell-phone company, and he goes to Finland a lot) looked up some Finnish words on the Internet (cool kids, I know), and we found out that there's a word that basically means "Goodbye, I hate you, and I never want to see you again." This is cool, and unfortunately there's no English equivalent.

Hope you guys had a fun Hallowe'en, Sawhain, Dia de los muertos, (and for all of you who celebrate some other holiday that I have not mentioned at around this time period, insert the name of your holiday into that salutation).

And (sorry, really really long message) if any of you guys who live in Australia and New Zealand feel like helping out my buddy Tess, could you e-mail her at ? She's a cool kid, and she wants to know some stuff about Australia. Cheers!