I stood in the corner impatiently as Jane chatted with Charles. Don't get me wrong, I am beyond happy cool cat Jane was crushing on someone, but I'm exhausted and ready to go home. We rehearse most of the day on weekends, and it was nearing three o clock. But Lizzie, you say, you and Jane arrived separately. Why don't you take your own car? Because I had to stay and be Jane's wingwoman, of course! From the corner. Where I didn't say a word. Because Jane's got this. But Jane would die if I left her there alone.

"So, Jane, do you want to go out to dinner with me?" Charles asked. I grinned. Jane was killing it!

"Of course! Is it okay if Lizzie comes too?"

WHAT. JANE WHY? YOU'RE JUST COCKBLOCKING YOURSELF JANE NOOOOOOO!

"What? No! I'm not going on your date! Fly and be free little bird, fly and be free!" I called, eager to fix Jane's mistake.

"Of course she can! Will can come too."

No, Charles, no! How are you and Jane gonna fall in love and make little Bingley babies if we're there!

Oh God, I sound like my mom. Forget that last sentence.

"Now I'm definitely not coming" I muttered, tuning out Darcy's protests. I had spent the second half of rehearsal throwing everything I had into my dance, and it definitely wasn't for that idiot. No way, it was for me. Even Lady De Bourg commented on my impressive performance. Bad dancer my ass. Not that I care what he thinks. Cause I don't.

"Do you want to go dancing?" Charles asked. Really Charles? Dancing?

"We just finished dancing!" I yelled indignantly, making my way towards the group. Clearly they needed my help.

"Lizzie just likes to complain. We'd be delighted to."

Wow, thanks Jane. I'm trying to help you!

"Not very lady-like of her." Caroline hissed to Darcy, coming back from the bathrooms. She had changed from that hideous orange leo to a Pepto Bismol pink tracksuit. Better. Slightly.

"Oh, I'm sorry Your Highness, are you the Queen?" I snapped. "No? Then I'll complain all I want!"

"Lizzie." Jane pleaded. I looked deep into her eyes and saw via our twin-sense (no, we're not really twins. We're just that close.) that my sister really liked Charles and was begging me to behave. Fine. I'll do it, but only for Jane.

"Charles, Mr. Darcy, we'd be delighted to attend dinner and dancing with you. Please excuse us while we go home and squeal like piggies out of excitement before spending hours getting ready." I declared diplomatically. See? I can be pleasant when I want to!

"Piggies is right." Caroline snorted. "How much does darling Eliza weigh?"

OH MY FREAKING GOD! Are you KIDDING me? What'd I ever do you to, Caroline?

Bitch, please.

I can take you. You are SO dead. You're, like, stick a fork in you dead.

Ok so I'm ashamed to say, I'm kind of famous for losing my temper. But the girl called me fat!

I whirled around, fists at the ready. "What did you say, you good for nothing little-"

"Lizzie, please!" Jane cried, grabbing me by the shoulders. Damn Jane for being a perfect little pacifist.

"Let me at her, Jane, let me at her!" I cried. Maybe I could get a couple whacks at Darcy while I'm at it.

Nah, he's a famous danseur. He'd probably sue me.

Still worth it.

"Let's go home Lizzie" Jane sighed dragging me out the door kicking and screaming.

Damn it Jane. Really? I was gonna kick some TAIL!

"That's two people today that have called me fat. I'm normal for God's sake!" I complained. Seriously, is this pick on Lizzie day?

"You're beautiful, Lizzie. Meet you at the apartment?"

It's official. I forgive Jane. She's just too sweet! I can't hold a grudge against her!

And I'm the master of holding grudges. To this day I won't let my father live down the fact that he forgot me and Jane in a grocery when we were six.

"Yeah, yeah." I murmured, getting back into my car, slightly appeased.

Jane beat me back to the apartment. That's how I know she's in love with Charles- normally the girl won't go a mile over the speed limit! It's ridiculously frustrating. She drives SO SLOW! But now she's already in the shower when I get back. The girl broke the law and her own ethical code just to make herself pretty for this guy. I can hear wedding bells already!

No, that's not something my mother would say!

Yes, I know I sound defensive.

NO! I'm NOT turning into my mother!

I… shut up.

ANYWAY, I contemplated going in sweats since I'm not looking to impress anyone, but when I got to my room I found Jane had already picked out my outfit- a navy blue skater dress and white flats.

God, Jane's excited.

"Jane, I'm not going to be civil just because you make me look cute." I called. "Your new friends are jerks."

"I'm sure Caroline was just joking." Jane yelled from the bathroom. "She couldn't possibly think you're fat. She probably had no idea you'd take her seriously."

Oh, Jane. Sweet, sweet Jane.

"I'm sure." I replied, to pacify her. She returned from the bathroom toweling dry her hair.

"Go shower! We only have three hours until dinner!"

"A three hour shower, that sounds lovely!" I laughed, while Jane frowned.

"One hour, tops."

While I was in the shower, I contemplated Jane's new friendships. Charles, I liked. He was agreeable, friendly, and sweet. He didn't even have anything mean to say when I was eavesdropping, and that's pretty impressive! Darcy on the other hand… I'll never admit it out loud, but hearing him talk that way about me hurt. And no, I didn't cry.

Yes, that's the truth.

God, you don't trust me to tell my own story, do you?

I'd have to put up a barrier using my witty repartee though, cause I'd rather die than admit he hurt me. Or Caroline! I don't care what Jane thinks, Caroline wanted to hurt me.

But she didn't because I'm tough like the Hulk! My skin's so thick a chainsaw couldn't cut through it!

No, I'm not lying to myself!

Ok, maybe a little.


Three hours later we were showered, dressed, and ready for action. We were looking HAWT, if I do say so myself! We decided to meet the two boys at the restaurant rather than give away our address, because you never know when someone's a stalker murderer rapist. Good life lessons here! You should take note. Never give your address to stalker murderer rapists! Anyway, when we got to the place Charles had picked out…

Well, it was a country club. A boot stomping do-si-do-ing cowboy country club.

I know, right? Where'd he even FIND this in Meryton? This isn't Texas!

"Howdy Ladies!" Charles called goofily. "Bet you've never danced like this before."

Which… is the truth. We're nowhere close to cowgirls.

"We sure haven't." I smiled awkwardly.

"Can I take ya'll's order?" Our waitress asked, her thick English accent butchering the American atmosphere. We are no longer in Texas. Now we're in a cheap English imitation.

Which, really, isn't that far off from the truth.

I ordered a ceaser salad, but it WASN'T because of Darcy and Caroline. I just like salad, ok?

"So, Lizzy, Jane, how long have you two been dancing?" Charles asked. Jane smiled shyly.

"I've been dancing twenty three years, and Lizzie's been dancing for twenty."

"So you both started when you were three? Wow. That's impressive."

"You haven't met Mama Bennet." I shuddered, then mocked my mother "Lizzie, ballet is a graceful, lady-like achievement. How are you ever going to get a husband if you aren't an accomplished woman? Of course school doesn't count, you need to be a famous dancer! Or an actress! Or a singer!"

Yes, Mama Bennet really is that bad. I'm not making this up. She actually told me that when I was seven years old and wanted to finish my adding homework before going to ballet practice.

I know. I was a nerd even then.

But I'm a cute one!

"Lizzie, they don't need to know about our family lives." Jane murmured, the more private of us. She hates it when I mock mum. "And mother's not really that bad." The chatter dwindled down to idle talk between Jane and Charles only, and eventually they got up to dance, leaving me and Darce-face.

JOY.

THIS IS WHAT I'VE ALWAYS WANTED.

I mean, to be fair, before today it really was what I've always wanted. But now? Now that's sarcasm. Cause I hate William Darcy's pure evil little guts, get it? Hate him!

I'm… just gonna stop talking.

"So…uh…do you have any family?" I asked, trying to remember to play nice for Jane's sake. See? I'm an awesome sister! I can be nice if I want to!

Wingwoman of the year, right here.

"Yes."

Wow. Ok…

"Are you going to expand on that?"

"No."

"Fine. I'll tell you about my family."

"I'd rather you didn't."

OH MY GOD! Does this guy know how to play nice? I'm playing nice! Follow my lead!

"Wow. Rude much?" I winced.

"I have a sister named Georgiana. She goes by Georgia for short. Are you pleased?" Darcy declared

"Um… sure. So what's it like in London?"

"Big. Busy. Do you always ask a lot of questions?"

"Well, you're not giving me a lot to work with here." I shrugged.

"Would you like to dance?"

Really? I hate you, you hate me, and THAT'S what you have to contribute to this discussion?

I don't think so, Buster!

"Oh, I don't know." I gestured to my salad. "I probably weighed myself down and now I can't even get off the floor."

OOOH! BURN! That's right, I'm cool! I threw his own words back in his face! Self five!

"You heard me." Darcy stated, and I rolled my eyes.

DUH! I just QUOTED you! I could really be so mean right now.

Must… not… insult…

"Yeah." Polite Lizzie replied. Neutral answer, safe zone. Way to go Polite Lizzie!

"I am sorry."

There's a shocker!

"Sorry you said it, or sorry you got caught?" I asked, and when Darcy remained silent I snorted. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Tell Jane that Lydia called me drunk and I, the mature adult that I am, went to investigate who gave a fifteen year old alcohol. She'll believe that. I'm going home. Get Charles to give her a ride home, I'm taking the car."

Game, set, match. Point Lizzie!

I'm that cool.


Jane and Charles went out six more times in the next two weeks, while I threw my Jane-less hours into practicing at the studio and classes. Single Lizzie, living it up! School and work! Oh my gosh, so much fun!

Then, one day, the fateful call came.

"Lizzie? Lizzie, are you there?"

"I'm here, Jane. What's up? You sound awful."

Is that a mean thing to say? Some people say it's too blunt. But really, I'M too blunt. And she really did sound awful. Why try and cover it up?

"I got food poisoning on a date with Charles, and I hate throwing up in front of him. Can you come get me? I'm at Netherfield, Charles' house."

"Of course, Janie! I'm on my way."

Poor baby! I love Jane to pieces. It absolutely KILLS me when she's sick. I want to punch the universe or something.

It wasn't until I got to the garage that I remembered I had put my car in the shop yesterday. The engine wouldn't turn over, and I had to have it towed. Goodbye electric bill!

I'm kidding. We're not that poor.

Well…

Yeah, no, we'll be fine.

I grabbed my bicycle instead and left the parking garage.

And it was raining. Of course.

Do you hate me, God?

YES LIZZIE! MY LIFE'S GOAL IS TO MAKE EVERYTHING IMPOSSIBLE FOR YOU!

Oh, gee, thanks for the clarification God.

(By the way, I wasn't actually talking to God right then. I put that in there for dramatic interpretation.)

Twenty long, cold, wet minutes later I arrived at Netherfield, soaked to the bone and utterly miserable. I knocked on the door.

"Lizzie! What are you doing here?" Charles asked, answering it.

"Jane called me and asked me to pick her up." I replied. "How is she? Is she ok?"

"Did you bike here? I could have taken her home in my car! I'm afraid she's a bit delirious. Please, come in!"

Really, Jane? I biked over here in the rain when Charles could have just DRIVEN YOU HOME?

I mean, she's sick, she's not thinking straight.

Also, I can't blame Jane for anything. If she says Lizzie, I need you; I'm there in, like, half a second.

Or twenty minutes.

Y'know.

"I don't want to drip all over your rug." I shook my head, and the Bing-ster frowned.

"Caroline! Get me some towels and an extra pair of your clothes!" He called, and Caroline came to the door.

"For Eliza? Charles, she won't fit in my clothes. She's six inches shorter than me and her boobs are at least a c cup. She wouldn't even get my shirt over them!"

Oh my God, Caroline WHY? Don't talk about my boobs in front of my sister's love interest! AHHHH!

"Well, then get something of mine or Will's! Do you want her to catch pneumonia?"

"Did you see the mud crusted on her jeans?" Caroline shuddered, speaking to Darcy. "Why did she even come here? Did she expect to plop her sister on the back of her bike?"

Actually…. She has a point. I really don't have a plan to get us home. Definitely didn't think this one through.

"I think I have a pair of sweatpants she can use." Darcy declared, walking off.

I sat by Jane's bedside dressed in one of Charles' button downs, Darcy's sweats, and Caroline's slippers, wiping the sweat off Jane's forehead. Even sick, she looks like an angel. Not fair! I should hate Jane.

No really, I should!

She's prettier, nicer, charming, and just… better. Growing up, our mother favored Jane, even going so far as to declare (on numerous occasions) that Jane could find a husband easily with her looks, but I would have to work at it.

Well guess what Mom? I don't even WANT a husband! I just wanna become a famous ballerina and eat pizza all day long! So NYAH!

"Hey, Lizzie, how is she?" Charles asked, coming into the room.

"She just fell asleep a while ago." I said. "Stomach's still bothering her though."

Look at how delicate I said that! Did I say, 'She just puked her guts up again ten minutes ago and the pooped so much she passed out'? No. Because I am the best wingwoman ever!

"I've got bad news." Charles declared. "The storm is looking awful. I'm not going to be able to take you home. You girls are just going to have to spend the night."

WHAT? NO! WHYYYYYYYYYYY?

I'm gonna die.