Prom and Prejudice (2 page)

Jane smiled and took me by the elbow. "You are too kind, Lizzie. Just promise me that you'll try to enjoy yourself tonight. You'll have fun. I promise."

I desperately wanted to believe that I could be accepted and treated like a normal person at school. But after last semester, I had no desire to be friends with most of the girls here. How could I be friends with the same people who found so much pleasure in torturing me?

No, I knew better. I would do my best to have an incident-free evening. My armor was up and I was ready.

W
E ENTERED FOUNDERS HALL ON CAMPUS, DECORATED with tiny, white lights that glistened off the floor-length windows and crystal chandeliers. Even after four months, I still wasn't used to the grandeur of the buildings here. My old high school consisted of cement blocks and fluorescent lighting, not rich mahogany and stained glass.

"So beautiful ... and this is just for a reception," Jane reminded me as we took in the view. Or at least I took in the view -- Jane was scanning the crowd, looking for Charles. "Can you imagine what they'll do for prom?" she asked.

I had heard so much about prom at Longbourn. But I tried to not think about it. I knew there would be no way that I would be able to go. Most of the Pemberley students couldn't bear to look at me, let alone want to ask me to anything. And the standards were so ridiculously high. The students in the room for the "reception" were more dressed up than any Hoboken High prom-goer. If this was casual, I couldn't imagine what formal would be.

Jane was approached by a girl with dirty-blond hair done up in an elaborate twist and diamonds, actual diamonds, dripping from her ears and wrist.

"Jane, dear," the girl purred, making it sound half like a greeting and half like a formality.

"Hi, Caroline, welcome back. How are you settling in?"

"Fabulous.
I'm
so
sorry I haven't been able to catch up with you since I returned from London. Things have been
so
hectic." Caroline began to look me up and down. "And who is this?"

Jane put her arm around my shoulder. "This is Lizzie Bennet. She started last semester."

"Bennet? I'm afraid I don't know your family. Where do you vacation?"

The questions. These questions were always the start. It didn't take too long after asking questions about my family -- what
they did for a living, where our second house was, the status of my father's 40IK -- that my true identity would be revealed.

"LBI," I deadpanned.

Caroline's eyes widened. "Sorry?"

I wasn't sure if I was imagining it, but I believe I detected a slight British accent. I wasn't aware that you could pick up one of those in a few months. I'd been at Longbourn the same amount of time Caroline had been in London, and I knew I wasn't speaking with an entitled accent.

"LBI. Long Beach Island. You know, on the Jersey shore? I'm a scholarship kid, so I don't get off the continent much." I decided it would be best to get it out of the way.

"Oh."
Caroline crinkled her nose as if she could smell the mediocrity.
"Anyway,
Jane, lovely to see you. We
must
catch up soon." She kissed Jane good-bye and turned without giving me a second look.

"That's Charles's twin sister," Jane whispered in my ear.

"That's Caroline Bingley?" I tried to not groan. "Jane, I seriously question your taste in guys."

Jane grimaced. "Charles is nothing like her. He's really close with her and cares what she thinks ... but Charles is ... he's ..." Jane became flushed. "He's right over there."

I followed Jane's gaze to two guys who'd just entered the hall. "Which one is he?"

"The one on the right."

The two guys couldn't have looked more different. The one on the right, Charles, was walking around the room, smiling and greeting people. He had the same dirty-blond hair as Caroline, but his blue eyes sparkled with positive energy. Everybody seemed happy to see him, and he, in turn, seemed genuinely excited to be there.

The other guy was harder to read. He was tall with dark hair and a look of eternal disdain etched upon his face. He might have looked handsome if he hadn't looked like he was in pain.

"Who's the guy he's with?" I asked.

Jane let her glance leave Charles for a moment. "Will Darcy."

"Is there something wrong with him?"

Jane shrugged her shoulders. "He does look a little upset. Will can sometimes be overly serious, but his brood is worse than his bite.
If
you get the chance to know him."

I had a feeling there weren't going to be many people here this evening that I would want the chance of knowing. And I was pretty sure the feeling would be mutual.

"Jane!" Charles made his way right to her. "Just the person I've been waiting to see!" He threw his arms around her and hugged her tightly.

Jane was speechless, and her long hair could not disguise her reddening face.

Charles, beaming from ear to ear, turned to me. "Hi, I don't think we've met. I'm Charles Bingley."

"Lizzie Bennet."

He shook my hand and gave me a warm smile. "Lizzie, so good to meet you. I've heard all about you from Jane. She says nothing but the nicest things."

Because Jane was a saint. She couldn't say anything bad about anybody. And believe me, I had tried to get her to.

Charles turned to his quiet friend, who had been peering around. "Darcy, come here and say hi to Jane and her friend Lizzie."

Darcy approached and gave Jane a quick kiss on the cheek. Then he turned toward me and his hazel eyes locked with mine.

"Hello," he said, shaking my hand and giving me a small, curious smile.

"Hello," I replied. I was slightly unnerved by his expression. He could have been judging me. Or he could have been making a
slight overture toward acquaintance. Or he could have been plotting a way to throw me into the fountain outside.

He opened his mouth to say something else, then thought the better of it and decided to walk briskly away.

Charles laughed this off. "I don't think Darcy has recovered from the jet lag! Lizzie, it's really great to meet you, but would you mind if I take Jane away for a dance?"

Jet lag seemed to be the least likely reason for Darcy's rudeness, but Charles and Jane were so desperate to be in each other's arms on the dance floor that I could hardly prolong the conversation. As the two of them began to dance, I walked aimlessly around the cavernous hall trying to find Charlotte, my only other friend on campus. I weaved through conversations between my fellow classmates -- bragging about opulent holiday gifts, swapping tales of exotic destinations -- conversations I couldn't be a part of. After a few minutes, I gave up and went over to the refreshment table and began to fix myself a cup of tea.

"Looks like you just can't stay away from your work, huh?" Cat de Bourgh, daughter of an old Texas oil tycoon, said as she came up behind me. "My dad is just like that, except he runs a multibillion-dollar corporation. He doesn't consider brewing coffee a career."

Comments like this would just bounce off my shield. No, I didn't have a trust fund. In truth, I didn't really understand what
a trust fund was, except that it made people act like jerks. I always found solace in the fact that I was genuinely more intelligent than the majority of my class, and that while they'd gotten in because of birthright, I'd made my way by talent alone.

After all, money can only buy you so much.

I turned around and smiled sweetly at her. "I'm guessing your daddy doesn't think saying things like 'venti half-caf, skinny latte' is too impressive, either. But if that makes you feel smart -- when really, you're just asking for a decaf coffee with skim milk -- who am I to judge?"

Cat picked up a discarded cup of coffee and smirked malevolently as she poured it onto my dress. "Oops," she said with a smile as she walked away.

My upper thighs began to burn from the still-hot liquid. I tried to not make any noise as I quickly grabbed napkins.

"Are you okay?" A hand was on my arm, and instinctually I pulled away.

It was Will Darcy.

"Oh, sorry," I said. "Yes, I'm wonderful. Great party ..."

I went to the corner to try to save Jane's dress. The last thing I needed was to go to the ladies' room. The bathroom was one of the most vulnerable places on campus, an easy trap. Just another lesson from my fine education last semester.

"Here." Darcy came over and handed me a napkin soaked in seltzer water.

"Thanks." I had to try to nonchalantly put my arm up my dress to wipe off my legs.

"I agree with you on this being a wonderful party." He leaned in. "I hate these things. Charles had to drag me."

"I guess that's something he and Jane have in common -- their powers of persuasion."

"And we, despite our better judgment, allow ourselves to be persuaded."

"Yeah, well, I guess the two of us have that one thing in common."

Darcy looked perplexed. "What makes you think we wouldn't have anything more in common?"

I let out a little laugh. I had forgotten that he didn't know about me ... and my situation.

Darcy turned his attention back to the matter of the ruined dress. "Is it coming out?"

I shook my head. While the dress was black, it had a delicate chiffon layer that was becoming crusty from the coffee.

"Jane is going to hate me," I said with a sigh.

Darcy was confused. "Why would Jane hate you?"

"This is her dress. I could never own a dress as nice as this. But maybe now she'll let me stay in my room once and for all instead of trying to turn the duckling into a swan with some borrowed feathers."

"Oh." Something had begun to register on Darcy's face. The amused look had been replaced with a slow understanding of what was going on. It irritated me that he seemed to be helpful and genuinely concerned for me ... until he found out about my deep, dark secret.

"Yeah, I'm a scholarship student."

Darcy grimaced at the word
scholarship.
It looked like the mere mention of us charity cases caused a migraine.

"I see," he replied. He gestured again to the coffee stain. "Well, good luck with that." Then he left as abruptly as he'd come.

I stood there with my hands full of dirty, coffee-soaked napkins. I shouldn't have been surprised that once he found out the truth about me he wouldn't want to be seen in my presence. I guess this was a reminder from the universe that nothing was going to be different this semester. I was who I was, and I should have considered myself lucky that there were at least a couple people who accepted me.

I headed toward the exit. I had tried to make an effort, and
now my effort was done. It was best to not tempt fate any further.

"Well, hello, Elizabeth," a voice interrupted.

I stopped dead in my tracks. My evening certainly wasn't going to get any better.

"Hi, Colin," I replied.

Colin Williams was one of the few Pemberley students who would talk to me. At first I thought it was because he was a bigger person than his breeding dictated. (At least one member of his infamous family has had a seat in Congress for decades.) But soon I realized that Colins friendliness toward me was because he was quite possibly the most boring person in the world, and few other people could tolerate being in a conversation with him. Not surprisingly, nobody thought of giving me a heads-up before I got stuck in an hour-long discussion (although, can it be a discussion if only one person was doing the talking?) with him at the beginning of the year about the benefits of private education. (There were many, and he listed them all.) By the time he was through, he was as surprised as I was that I was still standing there. Ever since, he has sought me out at any social event our two schools have had.

"How were your holidays?" he asked me now.

"Fine. And yours?"

"Fabulous -- we went to our house in St. Bart's for Christmas. The weather there this time of year is most agreeable. The record low temperature is sixty-five-point-three degrees Fahrenheit, and we didn't come close to that. In fact, we were well above the average of sixty-nine-point-eight degrees Fahrenheit, which was a blessing, I tell you. A blessing." He brushed off a piece of lint from his tweed jacket. Colin not only dressed like he was thirty years older than his actual age, but he spoke like an elderly professor -- both in his choice of words and the amount of time it took him to get out a sentence. "I do enjoy getting out of the cold of Connecticut, where the average temperature for December hovers around forty degrees Fahrenheit. Which is better than the January average -- but still. Where did you spend Christmas?"

"Cranford."

He looked at me blankly.

"My grandmother lives in Cranford ... New Jersey."

"How quaint."

"Yes, quaint." I looked around, hoping to spot Jane so she could save me. But she and Charles were looking very cozy in the corner.

"How are you enjoying this reception?" Colin asked.

"To be honest --"

"I think the staff did a fantastic job decorating the hall. The lights are reminiscent of the ones we had inside our main foyer at our house in Boston. I don't think you can properly decorate for the holidays without white lights. They truly are beautiful in --"

"Colin!" I interrupted. (If I didn't, I was never going to be able to leave.) "I spilled coffee on my dress and really need to get home."

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that. You know, the best thing for a stain is to soak it overnight in hot water. At least that's according to my former nanny, and let me tell you, she had certainly seen some stains in her day. My brothers and I never saw a mud field we didn't --"

"Colin, I've got to go." I didn't even wait for him to say goodbye. I hated being rude to him because he was always nice to me, but I was so miserable I didn't think I could handle another word from his mouth.

I was only a few yards away from the exit when I saw none other than Darcy standing there, looking at his watch. Before he could see me, I ducked behind a column, trying to figure if there was another way I could leave. As I did, I spied Charles coming over to talk with his friend, blocking any escape route I could've had.