Turn My 6's to 9's

Chapter 3: Three miles so early in the day

Fireworks turned out to be several boxes of Pop-It snaps and sparklers, for which Beth was deeply relieved, having pictured Charles blowing his hand or face off trying to drunkenly light explosives.

She'd always played with the snaps on the 4th of July as a child, and she felt nostalgia now. There was something so satisfying in throwing the tiny white blob on the ground and hearing it POP loudly. Or placing them on the ground and then stomping on each with her foot. Soon they were all really laughing, throwing the Pop-Its all over the drive-way as they waited for the pizza to be delivered. Beth was smiling ear to ear, throwing two down at a time, and she could see Jane smashing one after the other as Charles placed them down for her. She saw Will looking at her and wondered if he thought she was foolish for enjoying it so much, but she didn't care. One final POP, and Jane looked around. "Was that the last one?" she asked, sounding sad.

Charles picked up a box of Sparklers and rattled it, smiling in invitation.

"I don't know if I can handle it," Beth said, joking.

Charles grinned at her. "Let's live a little".

Charles used the lighter from the grill to start the sparkler, and Beth squealed as hers suddenly ignited, raining white hot chips of burning light over her hand. She spun around, feeling silly with glee. Will held two of his out to her, and she brought hers to touch so that there was another sudden flare as they caught.

"Write something, Will! I'm going to record it with my phone and slow the speed down. You have to write it backward so it'll come out normal."

"No pressure, just write in reverse," Will scoffed, but he gamely wrote something while Charles stood back and recorded it. He was graceful, Beth noticed absently, and obviously used to moving his body through space. Meanwhile, Jane was spinning hers around and around in the background clumsily.

When the pizza arrived, Charles poured them another round of drinks. They passed around the idea of watching a movie, but Charles, drunkest of all of them, was already falling asleep. He managed to stay up for another hour or two before he excused himself upstairs.

The house suddenly seemed quiet around them, and Jane was curled up beside her on the couch, legs tucked under her while she scrolled through her phone. Beth could see she was tired and half expected her to start nodding off. Will was lounging on the chair across from them. Beth had been shocked to hear him actually participate in the conversation at dinner, even if it was mostly in response to Charles. She had thought he might leave as soon as Charles went upstairs, but he didn't seem to mind sharing the living room with them.

"Oh no!" Jane said forlornly. "That's sad," she murmured again, showing Beth a picture on her phone.

Beth leaned over far enough to see that the photo showed a couple with a big X through the middle. Hollywood's latest 'It' couple had officially called it quits. She hadn't known they were dating in the first place. Will didn't seem to know who they were either.

"I loved them together," Jane continued. "They always looked like they were having such a good time. I know that social media is a big lie most of the time and some of it was for publicity. But they were cute! It seemed like they were a good match."

Beth smiled and quoted to herself, "Isn't it pretty to think so."

She had read The Sun Also Rises in one of her English classes in high school and written a paper on it. The ending had stuck with her and the tired resignation in the last line. She thought it fit with it being nice but naive to think that the pictures of famous couples reflected what their relationship might actually be like.

"I always liked Hemingway."

Beth slowly moved her eyes from Jane to look at Will, who was calmly taking a sip from his beer. She'd made a reference to a line in an old book and he was the one who picked up on it?

"What?" she asked, as a reflex. She had heard him perfectly.

"Hemingway. The Sun Also Rises. It's a great book. That's the last line, right?" he asked, and she nodded.

Beth had to collect herself for a moment as several ideas about Will all rearranged themselves in her head. "Did you read him in high school as well?" she asked, but Will shook his head.

"I don't mind reading, when I have the time. And I liked his stuff."

"He could convey so much in so little prose." she said after a moment. "I had to write a paper on that book, and I was shocked about how much I could write analyzing just a few sentences of his."

"He "borrowed" that writing style from Gertrude Stein," Will said with a raise of his eyebrows, taking a sip from his beer.

Beth gaped at him. "Gertrude Stein?" she asked animatedly and with disbelief. "You're joking."

Will shook his head, smiling at her incredulity. "They were friends. I think he wanted them to be lovers, actually. But he was strongly influenced by her. It's funny because people make a big deal about how masculine his writing was. But that style came from her."

Whatever she had expected the conversation to be like, this was not it. Will was actually interesting. She tried to keep her brow from furrowing in surprise and confusion. Maybe there was a reason Charles liked him, after all.

"And he loved cats. His house in Key West is overrun by cats and most of them have 6 toes," Will added. "My family went there one summer; they're all over the place."

"6 toes!" Jane exclaimed and immediately searched to pull up a picture of them. "Oh my god, Beth. Look at them!" Beth had to admit they were adorable, and Will leaned forward to see as well.

"Extra little toe beans," was all he said, and Jane giggled. Beth had to stifle a laugh herself at Will Darcy saying the words Toe Bean.

Will was smiling and she thought it might be the first time he'd ever really smiled at her. She noticed that he had dimples in both cheeks. "That's what I like about art," he continued. "There's this progression...artists stealing from each other, but each version just different enough. There's always someone offering a new version of the world."

She paused and took a sip of her own drink. "Like Beethoven."

"Yeah?"

She had anticipated arrogance, but he was looking at her with genuine curiosity and interest.

"He was composing at this transitional time between styles of music. At first, he went in the same vein as Mozart, but then he started deviating. When he wrote his later works, people had absolutely no idea what to do with it."

"I had no idea. That's more of my sister's specialty."

"Sister?" It was strange to imagine Will with siblings or family.

"My twin, actually."

That was even stranger. Beth tried to picture the female equivalent of Will, but the visual didn't fit at all. She didn't have to ask if they were close because Will's whole demeanor had changed when he spoke of his sister. He was obviously fond of her. Beth wondered what she must be like, and if she was capable of small talk.

"She got the weekend off to visit some friends in New York. But she's been busy all summer working at this bookstore in D.C."

"I work in a bookstore, too," Beth said, surprised at the connection. She had expected that with his family's wealth, they wouldn't do things like work a summer job.

"What's your favorite thing about your job?" Will asked, and Beth was caught off guard by the question. "I always ask people that. It tells you a lot about them."

"Jeeze, no pressure or anything," she replied sarcastically before giving him the honest answer. "I like making the displays for the different sections. We have a kind of "best of" or "staff's choice" table in each section. Every week I change out which ones are on display. Sometimes I'll try to do a theme based on the cover, or the authors, or the type of work."

"Who's on display now?"

"The Bronte sisters and Jane Austen. Master satirists, and women who managed to make it in a man's world."

"Huh," was all Will replied, and Beth was disappointed, expecting him to say something disparaging about that period of work or about the female authors.

Instead, all he said was, "I think Charles was planning to stop in soon for a birthday present." He nodded his head toward Jane, who was snoring. Jane had fallen asleep long ago, though she'd tried valiantly to stay with the conversation. She was curled up now on one end of the couch.

"I would try another store. Not books," Beth whispered. "Chocolate. Candles. Scarves" Beth finished, miming wrapping herself in one.

Will gave her an odd look. "You say it like you disapprove."

Beth blinked. She hadn't meant to sound like anything. "We don't have the same taste for those kinds of things. But if it's pretty or it smells nice, Jane is all about it."

"What would Charles be buying if it were for you?"

"Something unique. Something that had meaning for me and the gift giver." She shrugged. "I'd rather not get a gift than something boring you could give to anyone. "

"You're unusual, you know," Will said. She couldn't tell, but she didn't think his tone was complimentary.

"Unusual," she said in a mocking tone. "I guess I'll add that to my list of faults," she said.

"I don't think it's a fault," he said, and again she couldn't decipher the tone, but her heart did a weird thump in her chest and she decided it was time to change topics. She stood and walked to the fridge, asking if he'd like another drink and grabbing one for herself.

"So what's on this list of faults?" he asked, undeterred as she handed him the beer, his face a picture of innocence as he looked up at her.

"Ha, you first. I'm not saying mine unless you say yours." There was no way she was going to open up to Will Darcy about her bad habits and behaviors. She was certain he would punt the question away.

"Well that's easy, because I've only got the one," he said, taking a sip and Beth noticeably rolled her eyes at which he laughed. He fiddled with the label on the beer bottle and shot her a sideways look before continuing.

"I have a hard time forgiving people," he said slowly, and Beth was absolutely shocked that he'd given her a serious answer. "It seems like other people forget things over time and just move on, but I'm not very good at that. I'm resentful, I guess. Though I'm really trying not to be."

Beth didn't know what to say but decided that teasing at this moment was probably not a good idea. "No second chances, huh?"

Will shrugged and answered seriously. "I'm working on it." Then he smiled. "Okay, now you."

Beth looked at him guilelessly. "Lying to you about telling you one of my faults. Major fault of mine. Definitely working on it," she said, laughing at his outraged expression. "I'm unusual that way, you know."

God, he was difficult. This was the feeling that had been building all night for Beth as they continued talking. He was difficult to figure out and frustratingly stubborn about his opposing views on some topics. But then they'd switch to something else and he'd be open to her ideas or offer a complex opinion when she expected him to be chauvinist or oblivious to a social problem. He disagreed when she thought he shouldn't and agreed readily when she assumed he wouldn't. The way he responded to her questions was maddening: the assurance in all his answers: his pretty eyes and the turn of his mouth: his casual elegance just sitting in the living room: and above all that he wouldn't just agree with her.

He was easy to get a rise out of, that was for sure. She'd never talked to anyone who was so earnest, and it delighted her how slow he was to pick up that she was teasing. She found that she couldn't help teasing because he was so easy to rile up. But then again, wasn't he doing the same thing to her? She'd play devil's advocate just for fun only to have him fox out her real opinion by saying something so outrageous that she couldn't let it go. In a way, it was fun, but it was also making her crazy. Why wouldn't he just be what she had expected him to be?

"Honestly, I can't see the point sometimes," she was saying. "It's not like anything I do as an individual has any real effect on what's happening in the world. And the more I see, the less I think there's anyone out there really acting selflessly and not profiting from it some way. There are always ulterior motives. Maybe it's not on a conscious level where they know they're profiting," she said, knowing that he was going to try to make that point if she let him. "People do so much just for social approval or recognition. I have trouble thinking of a truly selfless act. There's so much to care about that it's hard to care at all sometimes."

Will was looking at her with disbelief. "You can't actually believe any of that."

Beth opened her mouth to protest heatedly. Sometimes she felt that way, and sometimes she felt just the opposite. But who was he to tell her what she thought?

"So you're the expert on my thoughts and feelings?" she asked, her tone dangerous. Will immediately held up his hands and backed down.

"No, of course not. That's not really what I meant." He paused, looking intently at her face, trying to read her expression. "If you really feel that way, then fine. It's just...there's so much opportunity to do good in the world, and I can't see you being the kind of person to pass up an opportunity to make a change for the better. I'm so lucky to have all the resources I've had, and I recognize that. I do. But it makes me feel like I have a responsibility to help others. Honestly that's why I chose economics as my major. What banks do to poor people is outrageous. Payday loans, overdraft fees, you name it. They don't have an advocate; they don't have a voice in the system. I want to change that." His face was so earnest, looking steadily at her. "And that doesn't strike me as me just being selfish or trying to get social recognition. There are good people out in the world."

She stared at him thoughtfully as several preconceived ideas about who he was were ruined by this speech. And after a speech like that, who could keep playing devil's advocate. She nodded in agreement.

"You do like debating ideas that aren't your own sometimes," he said after he'd sat back in his chair, smiling again. "You have to admit that. Maybe I didn't say it quite right earlier, but it's true. I can see when you're doing it. You look...evil."

"Evil?!"

"Just momentarily," he said, still laughing at her reaction. "In the eyes."

"Great. Thank you, what a compliment," she scoffed.

Jane gave a great yawn and sat up, eyes squinting at the light. "What time is it?" she asked in confusion, and Beth was absolutely shocked to see that it was almost 4 in the morning. Jane yawned enormously again and stood up. "Bedtime. I'm going upstairs. Is the couch okay, Beth?" Charles had brought out a pillow and blankets earlier in the night.

"I can sleep on the couch," Will offered, but Beth shook her head.

"You're already set up in the guest room. This will be fine. I'm not a picky sleeper."

Jane and Will both said a quiet goodnight, and then the evening was suddenly over. Beth laid down a sheet on the couch, fighting an enormous yawn of her own. She couldn't remember the last time she had stayed up so late! But it hadn't felt that late at all. It must have been the drinks they'd all had, she told herself.

But that had been an awfully long time to chat for someone who didn't think she was worth the effort of talking to. She didn't quite know why she had kept talking to him either, except that the conversation had flowed so naturally that she hadn't noticed how long it had been. It had been entertaining, in a weird way: that play-fighting and the debating. Her last thought before she drifted to sleep was that she'd never expected to have fun teasing Will Darcy.

The sun was shining directly into the living room with no curtain to block it, waking Beth much earlier than she would have wanted. She had not gotten enough sleep, and sleeping on the couch had made her back hurt, or maybe she'd slept in one position too long. She'd had too much pizza and probably too many drinks as well. She groaned to herself.

Whatever the reasons, she was not feeling great. She'd forgotten where she was for the first moments of being awake. Then she remembered she was at Charles's house, and she'd spent the whole night talking to Will Darcy. She couldn't remember everything they'd talked about, but it had been a lot: social issues, personal preferences, the fact that Will was resentful. She suddenly felt embarrassed but without knowing why. They'd formed a rapport as they'd talked, and the drinks had helped her not hold back her opinion. Maybe she shouldn't have said all that or teased him so much.

Her back was really hurting so she sat up and stretched, wishing she had something else to wear besides her swimsuit and shorts. Day 2 and it was not all that comfortable. With a sigh she stood and padded to the kitchen. She filled a large glass of water from the fridge, sipping, eyes half closed and wishing she was still asleep. Home and a shower, comfy PJs and then a nap, that's what she wanted. But she'd settle for coffee. She opened cupboards at random in the kitchen until she found the filter and grounds.

Will emerged not long after, puffy eyed. He was wearing mesh shorts and a t shirt, and his hair stuck up in the back. Beth suddenly felt very shy as he entered the kitchen. They had talked so much the evening before, some of it quite heated at points, and she didn't know how to act now that it was the morning and he was here with sleepy eyes and ruffled hair.

Will nodded at her politely and then went straight for the coffee. Then they both stood in the kitchen, sipping from mugs, not saying a word. It wasn't cold, necessarily, but it wasn't friendly either. Back to normal then, Beth thought dryly as the silence continued. But she felt a negative emotion that she couldn't quite identify. Disappointment? No, she knew that Will was awkward. This wasn't anything new. But she'd thought that last night had been her first glance at the real Will, but here they were with nothing to say again.

Like it or not, it hurt her feelings. She felt herself frowning into her mug. Perhaps this was another situation where it wasn't worth the effort to make conversation. Maybe he thought she was immature or stupid for all the things she had said the night before. The sense of embarrassment filled her again and she remembered why she hadn't liked Will in the first place.

Will moved to open another cupboard and held out a box of cereal, his expression asking if she wanted any.

"Sure," Beth said, breaking the silence. She wished that she could think of something to say that would make her feel smart and self-assured again, but it was too early. Something would come to her as soon as she got home, no doubt. How had it been so easy the night before and so painfully difficult now to think of something to say to Will?

Jane and Charles came down the stairs together with flushed cheeks, looking far too happy for the morning after a party.

"Thank god someone made coffee," Charles said with enthusiasm. "Although we can do better than cereal. Who wants a real breakfast?"