Chapter 3
For the next few weeks, Jackie and Charlie were inseparable. Early mornings soon became routine for my sister, and she never returned home until very late at night. What she was doing, I didn't know: supposedly, they went sailing, and one day in the middle of June they went to Great Adventure, but that was the extent of my knowledge, and it worried me. Stranger still, Jackie would always return very late at night, and without saying a word to me before crashing on her bed. However, the spaced-out grin said it all: she was in love.
Since middle school, we always told each other everything about our crushes and relationships; but now, suddenly, my own Jacqueline was being extremely secretive. Naturally, this sparked my curiosity in a big way.
"What do you guys do all day?" I asked her one night when she came home.
"Oh, you know…stuff."
"Stuff. Right."
Jackie looked at me and giggled. "What, you wanna know if we're doing it or something?"
"Did I say that?" I exclaimed. Jackie rolled her eyes at me and climbed into bed. "But now that you mention it…are you?"
"Ugh, no!" she squealed, throwing a pillow at me.
"Then what are you two doing that keeps you out so late?"
"Movies," she announced. "Movies…and opera in the City, and sailing, and dinner and dancing and—oh my god, I'm so in love!"
"Yeah, I figured that much."
"Today we watched the sunrise," she continued. "Then we went berry picking, and had lunch, and went to a go-kart place, and…" Her voice trailed off into a heavily contented sigh. "I just wish you could understand this feeling."
"Well then…try to explain."
"Okay then." She breathed in sharply and sat up in her bed and looked me directly in the eye. "Imagine this: every time I look at him I get these butterflies in my stomach, and my legs feel all wobbly, and my heart gets faster and my breath gets slower, and when he kisses me I can feel it all the way in my fingers and toes."
I closed my eyes and tried to picture what Jackie had just said: it would be so wonderful to be in love. I communicated this information to her, to which she replied, "Yeah, I guess it is. Well, good night." She flopped onto the bed and instantly fell asleep.
But I couldn't. My mind was racing a million miles an hour with thoughts of…love, that fickle thing. I was so jealous of Jackie; I wanted that feeling. It was such an insanely selfish thing, but I wanted someone to adore me and take me places and tell me how special I was to them and kiss me like a hurricane. (And please don't ask me how that metaphor came to be.) The truth was that despite my pragmatic exterior I was really a hopeless romantic. I could never settle for less than a perfect knight in shining armor; naturally, there were none of those in my immediate area (and probably in all of New Jersey, but I'd never bothered to scour the whole state looking) and I had always been a very lonely girl. And somehow, despite Jackie's newfound love, I knew it was impossible for even a little bit of her luck to rub off on me. At that point I felt resigned to the fact that all I could ever hope for was a glimpse of her Vera Wang wedding gown once in a while in my dismal spinster life, and a vivid imagination for things that could never be.
Sometime around two AM I fell asleep, relinquishing my negativity-insomnia-zombie-ness for something decidedly more pleasant.
"You've got to come with me! It'll be so much fun!"
"Really, I think I'll pass." I was seated on Jackie's bed, watching her pack for a getaway to Atlantic City with Charlie and his entire party. There was no way I was going to subject myself to the uncompromising asshole qualities of Adam Darcy, never minding some of the things I'd heard about Charlie's sisters Caroline and Jennifer, for an entire week. I had far too much dignity for that.
"Are you sure?" she asked again, neatly folding a bikini top and placing it in her duffel bag. "We could both use a little sun and surf. And slots."
"I'm sorry Jackie," I replied flatly, "but not even the allure of the one-armed bandit in a poorly-lit, smoke-filled casino can persuade me to come with you. I'm not really friends with Charlie or his sisters, and god knows I have absolutely no intention of seeing that Darcy bastard again. Or ever, for that matter."
"So…what, you're going to spend the entire week watching television and harassing everyone within telephone's reach?"
"Essentially, yes," I said, laying on the bed. "I'm making a point of doing absolutely nothing as much as I can this entire summer. College is tough, Jax; I want to create enough memories of uselessness and boredom to last me my whole senior year." I thought such a detailed and authoritative response would convince Jacqueline not to push the matter further. Unfortunately, she knew me too well.
"No you're not. You hate being bored. You're just being a stick in the mud." I rolled over and pretended to pay attention to her. "You've got to get out of this funk, Duckie. It's not healthy. Ever since I've been going out with Charlie, we haven't had much time together, and I'm sorry about that. But now he's invited the both of us, and I'd really like it if you came with me and got to know him, and let him get to know you. So what do you say? For me?"
I sat up and handed her a pair of socks that had been under my butt for the past ten minutes. "Nope."
"Fine," she said, crestfallen. "I understand. Maybe you'll change your mind and come join us." She zipped her duffel, slung it over her shoulder, and walked out the door.
Two days later I got a call from Charlie himself, at the Atlantic City Hilton, informing me that Jackie had gotten a "really freakin' nasty" sunburn, and that the only thing she wanted was me there with her. Charlie even noted that there was still an extra bed in the penthouse suite they were staying in.
Naturally, I had to take some time (about thirty seconds) to evaluate the situation: my perfect-as-pie sister was immobile and needed my care; karmatically, I owed it to her; and it wasn't like anyone else in my family was going to come to her aid. I agreed, stuffed a duffel full of clothes, and was in my Corolla before Charlie could hang up.
"Hey there Elizabeth," Charlie announced, and all of our heads perked up. Caroline, Jennifer, Phil, and I were lounging around the living area of the suite: Phil was sleeping, Caroline was ordering room service, Jennifer was filing her nails, and I had been deeply engaged in a copy of 1984. "Come on in." I watched her walk into the suite, looking around in awe like a seven-year old at Disneyworld. I tried hard not to stare at her, but I couldn't help it. She was wearing a jean skirt and a faded shirt proudly advertising Meryton High School's 2000 production of Guys and Dolls. On her feet were beaten-up Vans and a gold anklet, and her light brown roots were showing from her short pink hair, which she had tucked behind her ears. She looked like she didn't have a care in the world, even though her sister was lying immobile in one of the bedrooms. I found it strangely attractive.
I would never admit this to anyone, but I had seen her around town for the past few weeks, and she was really starting to grow on me. I hadn't actually talked to her since our fateful meeting at the Assembly Room, and when I had seen her she obviously wasn't at her personal best. After the fiasco, Charlie had informed me that she was having a very bad migraine headache that night. I wanted to make amends with her, I really did; but she had probably already hated me with the blazing fire of a thousand suns, so there was really no use in trying to patch things up. This was definitely something I wanted to kick myself repeatedly for, because she was looking dangerously gorgeous in the light of the hotel room.
Like I said, I would never, ever admit this to anyone, especially Elizabeth herself.
Caroline and Jennifer both uttered a spirited (and totally fake) "Hello"; not knowing where my head was, I grunted. So much for making things better. Elizabeth replied to all of us, then turned to Charlie and asked about Jacqueline.
"She's in the bedroom over there," he said, pointing. She thanked him and walked over to the room. As she went past me, I noticed that she smelled like a vanilla cupcake. From that moment, I knew Elizabeth Bennet would be trouble.
As soon as she closed the door in Jacqueline's room, Caroline started up with the conversation.
"Oh my friggin' god," she exclaimed. "I cannot believe Elizabeth Bennet! She looks like a hobo! And she's not even wearing makeup! I bet she must have taken, like, thirty seconds to get ready today! It's just awful!"
"And that pink hair!" Jennifer shrieked, wrinkling her nose. "That is without a doubt the tackiest thing I have ever seen!"
"No it's not," Charlie said, looking sternly at his cackling sisters. "She wanted to get to her sister as fast as she could. She knows she doesn't have to impress any of you guys."
"Ugh, Charlie, you're hopeless," Caroline scoffed. Then she turned to me with a glimmer in her eye, like she knew everything that I was thinking. Caroline had a very scary way of doing that. "At least Adam understands, don't you Adam? You wouldn't want your sister looking like that, now would you?"
"Of course not," I answered, swallowing the lump in my throat. It was almost like Caroline was trying to pry my attraction to Elizabeth out of my mouth. "I mean, Elizabeth is from New Jersey; what else would you expect?"
Caroline giggled deviously. "Oh really. That's kind of funny, Adam."
"What do you mean?" It was getting unbearably hot in the room all of a sudden.
"I saw the way you looked at her just now," she said, smirking. I glared at her incredulously. "Oh, don't deny it. You like it like that." Caroline, Jennifer, and Charlie focused their attentions on me, like I was a zoo animal and they were waiting for me to do a trick.
"Um, I, er…" I stammered, "I, uh, guess she's not too bad looking. She's got nice eyes."
"Ha! I knew it!" Caroline shouted, the mimosa she was drinking shooting out of her nose. After regaining her breath, she sashayed over to me. "Don't worry Adam," she whispered. "I won't tell about your little crushy!" She and Jennifer broke into a fit of giggles and I could feel my face turning red as Jacqueline's sunburn. I wanted to sink into the sofa and disappear.
Fortunately, a knock at the door saved me.
"That must be room service!" Caroline shouted, and bolted for the door. As she and Jennifer dove into their bruschetta and daquiris, the whole embarrassing Elizabeth issue vanished into thin air…for the moment, anyway.
"So, you wanna tell me what happened?" I asked the waking Jackie as I squeezed aloe vera gel onto her lobster-red back.
"I fell asleep by the pool," she replied in short breaths. "I was so stupid; I forgot sunscreen." I smoothed the gel on her back, which had one white strip from her bikini across it. I felt so bad for her, but it looked so funny.
Don't say anything, I repeated in my head. Don't say anything about the tan line.
"These things happen," I sighed, trying to soothe her. The room smelled like menthol. "Remember that time when Gabby did that fake tan stuff, and she turned orange? At least you're not orange. That's good, right Jax?"
Jackie laughed faintly; it probably hurt to laugh. I had better not try to say anymore funny things.
"Okay, no more talking about all the stupid shit Gabby's done," I said. "Anyway, changing the subject: aside from your lobsterfication, how have things been?"
"Pretty good, I guess," Jackie said. "Charlie's been awesome. The first thing he did when he saw my burn was go to the store and buy, like, every kind of aloe gel they had. And before that…we had a blast at the beach. Last night we went to this fabulous Italian place, just the two of us. And the night before, we all went out to a club. Well, everyone except Adam. He's barely said two sentences the whole time we've been here."
"Sounds about right," I remarked, sitting on the floor cross-legged. "And how about Caroline and Jennifer? Have they been nice?"
"Oh, of course," Jackie exclaimed. "Why wouldn't they be? They've been nothing but a blast the whole time. Why do you ask?"
"I don't know," I said dismissively. "I just heard from some people that they weren't very nice. I just don't want you being involved with a bad crowd."
"Hey," Jackie said, reaching for my hand, "don't worry about me, Duckie. I'm a big girl; I can take care of myself. Except," she reached for an empty tumbler on the nightstand, "could you please get me another glass of water?"
"Sure thing, poor baby," I laughed, exiting the room. As soon as I closed her door, Charlie rushed up to me.
"How's she doing?" he asked, genuinely concerned. "I've been too afraid to check on her."
"It's pretty bad," I replied, scratching an itch on my arm, "she can't really move. But I'm hoping she'll be alright in a few days, and I can leave; I wouldn't want to cramp your style any more than I have to."
"Oh, it's no trouble at all," exclaimed Charlie, mortified by the idea that I might not exactly be a welcome addition to the party. "We've got plenty of space, and we're all pretty accommodating. Don't worry about a thing." He glanced at the glass in my hand. "Oh, did she need more water? Here," he mumbled, taking the glass from me and filling it from a bottle of Aquafina in the mini-fridge. "I'll go bring this to her. Just, um, make yourself at home." Charlie dashed into Jackie's room, and I suddenly found myself in the same position as a rabbit surrounded by a pack of wolves. Caroline, Jennifer, and Adam were all looking at me like I had five heads. I cautiously made my way over to a plush sofa, which, unfortunately, was occupied by Adam Darcy. He glared at me and returned to his book. I sat at the other end of the sofa and crossed my legs. I scooted all the way over, so that I was right up against the arm rest; I wanted to be as far away from Adam as possible.
"So Elizabeth," Caroline started, peering up at me from over her daiquiri, "how are things back in Meryton?"
"Well," I answered meekly (totally unlike me, but whatever), "it was about 89 degrees outside when I left; very sunny. You know, the usual."
"How are your sisters?"
"Fine, I guess. Gabrielle and Kat were--"
Caroline cut me off with a "That's nice." Things were already going downhill.
A silence fell over the four of us, as Adam shut his book and pulled out a laptop from the bag next to him on the ground. We all watched detachedly as he balanced the computer on his knees, fixed a pair of earbud headphones in his ears, and began typing. I took this to mean that any hope for conversation had flown out the window, so I fished my iPod out of my backpack and tuned everyone else out.
I had eventually dozed off, but, being the light sleeper I was, I was awakened by Caroline plodding by me behind the couch. I figured she had come to harass me, so I left the headphones in my ears. I would choose Beck over Caroline Bingley any day. But, as it turned out, she had come to bother the hell out of Adam. I paused "Where It's At" and tuned into the conversation.
"Whatcha doing?" Caroline cooed, draping her arms over his chest. He shrugged her off and returned to his typing.
"Writing an e-mail," he replied flatly.
"To who?" Adam looked obviously peeved at this intrusion on his privacy. I almost felt bad for him…almost being the key word.
"My sister."
"Oh, Meg!" shouted Caroline. "How is she? Has she thought any more about coming to Paris with me and Jennifer over Christmas?"
Ooh, Paris, I thought. Lucky bitches.
"I don't know," said Adam. "I haven't asked her."
"Well ask her now, you silly billy! And tell her I said hello!" Adam grunted and closed the laptop.
"Please leave me alone, Caroline," he said matter-of-factly. "I really don't appreciate you bothering me like this."
"Bothering you!" cried Caroline melodramatically. "I just wanted to—oh, never mind!"
This girl could probably give my mother a run for her money in the drama department.
I chuckled to myself at the thought of a mom-versus-Caroline Drama-Off. Suddenly, Caroline swirled around in my direction and put her hands on her hips.
"Is something funny, Elizabeth?" she asked.
"Oh, no," I replied hastily, un-pausing my music. "Just my music."
"What are you listening to?" she inquired. What was this, 20 Questions?
"Beck."
"Oh, is that one of those indie rock bands? Are you one of those indie rock kids?"
"Uh, no, not really," I said, shrinking into the couch. Caroline Bingley was getting scarier by the minute. Adam looked on with a smirk, obviously amused by the turn of events. "I mean, Beck is pretty mainstream. I wouldn't consider myself an 'indie rock kid'." I also wanted to add, "And Beck is one person, you dumb whore," but I decided against it.
"Adam's indie rock," Caroline announced, shooting a seductive glance in his direction. Adam scrunched up his face in an "Ew!" look a la Summer from The O.C. Caroline continued, "his favorite band is Muse. They're too weird for me, but, you know…whatever."
"I like Muse," I blurted absentmindedly.
Oh no, my mind suddenly shouted. What if he got the wrong idea and thinks I'm trying to flirt with him? EW!
"I like Beck," he answered.
"Oh, Beck's not my favorite; actually, my favorite band is Mêlée." Okay, my mouth was just running now. "They're pretty cool, but not a lot of people have heard of them."
"I've seen them live," said Adam condescendingly. "They put on a pretty good show. They're pretty popular in SoCal."
Wanker.
The tension in the room was getting to be unbearable, but (and I never thought I'd say this) luckily, Caroline seized the opportunity to add her two cents. "Adam has family in LA," she said. "He knows, like, everything about the music scene there."
"That's not true," Adam stammered, "you're totally exaggerating. California's so huge; it's impossible to know everything about the scene there."
Suddenly Charlie burst out of Jackie's room. "Caroline, do you have any refills left on your Vicodin?" What a way to break the mood.
"Yeah, two," Caroline snapped back. "What do you need them for?"
"Not for me, silly, for Jackie. She looks pretty bad. I think she could use some painkillers."
I put the headphones back in my ears and zoned out. The one great thing about the Bingley family was their impeccable knack for changing subjects.
"Vegetable korma for Caroline and Jenny, duck vindaloo for Adam, and tandoori chicken with yogurt sauce for Elizabeth." Charlie handed me the Styrofoam box with my share of the Indian take-out he had just returned with. I took it from him and opened the box. Steam rose from the food: several chunks of chicken, the skin red from the tandoori spices, placed atop a bed of fragrant rice with an off-white sauce drizzled over the whole thing, accompanied by two pieces of nan bread. Before I dug in, I watched the others' reactions. Caroline gaped at her food like it was a box full of alien eggs, and Adam remarked on how his looked extremely low-quality.
Picky, picky, I thought, smiling, as I picked up my fork and stabbed a piece of chicken. Charlie had brought Jackie some plain bread, rice, and some sort of cucumber-yogurt salad thing, and she was up to sitting on the couch and eating it in delicate bites. I honestly never knew how much a sunburn could take out of a person.
"So Jacqueline, how are you feeling?" Jennifer asked, feigning interest.
"Fine, I guess," Jackie replied politely. "It feels good to get something substantial in me again." She tore a small piece of bread and popped it in her mouth.
"Well, I'm just glad you're up and about," Caroline enthused. "Jenny and I were missing your company."
"Oh, I'm sure Lizzy kept you busy," said Jackie nonchalantly.
"Errr…right, whatever. Anyway, if you're feeling up to it, tomorrow we should go down to the casino. How does that sound to you guys?"
"Sure," Charlie said. "I've got a few bucks to waste. Jackie, you can see the master in action!"
"Yeah, the master loser," Adam snorted.
"What about you, Adam?" Caroline asked, moving closer to him on the floor. "I bet you could win plenty of money, you're so clever." She rested her head on his shoulder; I fought the need to vomit.
"I don't gamble; you know that," he replied coldly. "I think it's a total waste of time and money."
"Oh, Adam, you're all sense and morals," Caroline gushed, tracing his jawline with one of her perfectly manicured fingers. "That's what I love about you." Adam shrunk back (presumably in fear), and smacked her hand away.
"I'm not, and you know it. I've done my fair share of senseless things; I just choose not to most of the time."
"What-ever, Adam. You're as pure as the driven snow, don't deny it. I bet you've never done a single crazy thing in your life."
This was getting very interesting.
"Yes I have."
"Name one thing."
"Fine, I will." He sat there, cross-legged, for a good thirty seconds, deep in thought.
"I knew it," Caroline said smugly. "You are totally responsible!" A blush crept across Adam's face, and he buried his head in his hands.
"Well," announced Charlie, standing up. "We'll just have to remedy the situation." He walked over to a cupboard in the kitchenette and pulled out a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses. "Adam Darcy, tonight you are going to get stupid."
"What are you doing?" I asked, outraged. I had a feeling that whatever was cooking in Charlie's brain was going to end very badly.
"Exactly what I told you," he replied, clearing the food off the coffee table. "You've never done anything crazy, and I'm fixing that." He set the two shot glasses on the table and the bottle of tequila between them. "Is there anyone here who wants to challenge this fine young man here?"
I suddenly realized what was going on: Charlie was going to get me drunk as all hell.
"I'm good," Caroline and Jennifer backed out in unison.
"Oh come on," whined Charlie. "Is there anyone here who can hold their liquor?"
"Lizzy can," Jacqueline announced suddenly, pointing at her sister. Elizabeth's eyes widened, and she shook her head violently in protest.
"Oh come on," Jacqueline pleaded. "You can do it!"
"Oh, okay," Elizabeth sighed. "Lay it on me. With any luck, Darcy here'll be down in two shots and I won't have to spend tomorrow morning with my head in the toilet."
"You think that, Bennet," I seethed. How dare she insult my drinking abilities!
"Alright," Charlie whooped, "it's on like Donkey Kong!" He steadily poured the amber liquid in the glasses and set the bottle back on the table. One full glass was in front of me, and the other was in front of Elizabeth. She locked her gaze on mine, her eyes brimming with determination to win. "On your mark…get set…go!"
Without breaking the gaze, we both picked up our glasses, tilted back our heads, and threw the liquid down our throats. It burned, but I pushed the sensation out of my mind and slammed the glass back on the table at the same time as her. Charlie filled the glasses back up and we both hawked back the tequila again, locked in the heat of competition. I was starting to feel queasy, but I kept going; I had already done two shots, more than Elizabeth thought I was capable of, and I wasn't dropping out now.
"Had enough yet, Darcy?" she asked smugly.
"Hardly." Charlie glanced nervously from me to her and back again, and filled the glasses once more. My stomach felt like it was doing flips, but I took the shot anyway. And that's when—right as I was putting down my glass—it happened: all the alcohol went straight to my head, and I suddenly felt very good. Everything was beginning to have a warm glow, and it was the most beautiful and peaceful thing I had ever seen.
I stared ahead at Elizabeth; she was rapping her fingers on the surface of the glass coffee table and looking at me with a triumphant grin on her face. Yup, she had won; I was feeling very tipsy, and I knew I couldn't handle any more.
"You don't look so good," she remarked, leaning over to me.
Oh, but you do, I thought. And she really did, in that drunken amber light: her blue-green eyes seemed endless and wild, and perfectly complimented her Manic Panic pink hair. Her lips looked lush and kissable—
And that was totally the tequila talking. I shook my head (bad, bad idea) and tried to push the thoughts out of my head. Sure, she was pretty, but I didn't need to sit around like a drunken boob and stare at every gorgeous part of her. I had to think of something wrong with her, and quickly: nose, hips, feet, breasts, anything!
Well, she did have a little more around the middle than most girls; but then "most girls", to me, were anorexic New York modeling ingénues. It was a sorry excuse. I couldn't find anything wrong with her.
"Hello?" she asked, waving her hand in front of me. "Hey, Spaceboy, you alright?"
"What?" I asked, snapping out of my reverie. "What's going on?"
"Oh man," Charlie laughed. "That went to your head pretty damn fast. You lose."
"Yeah, whatever," I said, the agony of defeat rearing its ugly head again. I was starting to see two of everything, and I felt like I was floating.
"You know," Elizabeth announced smugly, "I think I'll have another." Caroline, Jacqueline, Jennifer, and Charlie stared at her, gawking. She smiled. "I'm totally kidding!"
Suddenly, she stood up and climbed over the coffee table, her hand over her mouth. She plowed me over and rushed toward the bathroom. I heard the familiar sound of her puking and felt pretty nauseous myself. I tried to ignore it, but after about two minutes I made my way to the bathroom, stuck my head in the direction of the toilet bowl, and let up pretty much everything I had eaten that day.
"I guess we're even now," Elizabeth said, looking down on me from her perch on the sink-counter.
"Hardly," I replied, wiping my mouth. "That makes one for me and two for you."
"Nope," she insisted. "I faked it. I just wanted to make you nauseous."
I glanced up at her and sighed heavily. "You amaze me."
"Thank you."
Wow...three chapters out of the way! Oh yeah! Next chapter: Collins and Wickham!