Beginning, Next Section
Posted on Wednesday, 16 May 2001
Author's Notes: My inspiration for such a story? You write what you know. I know about high school and I know about sports. And yes, I even know about getting dishwater in my eggs. It doesn't taste good.
"I'm telling you, Jane. I don't feel good at all."
"What did you have for breakfast?" Jane wasn't really listening. After all, she only had five hours till race time and she had to go to the bathroom bad.
"Dishwater."
"Excuse me?"
"Okay, at first, I was skeptical, but when I took a few bites..."
"What are you talking about, Haze?" Jane rolled her eyes. Sometimes, she couldn't understand that girl. Actually, most of the time, she didn't understand a word that came from her mouth. Just smile and nod. Smile and nod. That was the key.
"I got dishwater soap in my eggs this morning. At first, I thought it was silly but they were an odd color and when I tasted it..."
"Why didn't you stick to bagels?"
"I wanted eggs." Hazel blinked as though that was the obvious answer.
"Watch out!"
Hazel and Jane backed up along the railing in time to see a teenage Adonis in dark shades run by. He was pulling off his Letterman's jacket, revealing tone arm muscles. Hazel tilted her head to read the name 'Darcy' written in script along the back. She elbowed Jane in the side. "Now, that's what cross country is all about!"
"You can say that again," replied a breathless Jane. Never mind she already had a boyfriend.
And just outside I can hear the"What's that ruckus?" muttered Lydia as she snapped her gum.
Sounds of the early morning
Street becoming way too loud and
The hum of the engines of the
Cars on the street.*
"I don't know. I think it's that guy in front of us." Elizabeth made a face. She hated punk. She didn't like Backstreet Boys either, but that was courtesy of Lydia. There was nothing she could do about that.
She turned into the parking lot and was obligated to take the spot next to the guy with the loud music. She had never seen him before, but she didn't like him already. He had one of those vintage cars. It looked like a '65 Mustang. What she would give for a car like that!
"Hey, do you think you could shut that up?" Lydia yelled, mimicking her mother's voice.
He turned it off, but then the tunes of "I Want It That Way" penetrated the air instead. He rolled down his window and yelled in return, "How about you shut that bubble gum pop up yourself?"
Elizabeth frowned. No one talked to her sister that way. Even though Lydia was the one who initiated the whole thing... But then again, that guy had been ready to blow everyone's ear out with that trash.
"Who do you think you are? I mean, what kind of crap were you listening to anyway?" Elizabeth got out of her '95 Corolla and walked over to face this stranger. She found that he was pretty cute from up close. As a matter of fact, if Lydia hadn't been in her way, she would've realized that this guy was hot stuff. Darn Lydia!
"Nick Carter's personal agent," he replied, walking away.
Elizabeth was startled. She had been moded by a guy she didn't even know. And he had a great butt, too.
"I wonder who he was." Lydia said, snapping her gum again. "He was pretty cute."
"Yeah," muttered Elizabeth as she shot her sister a dirty look.
* Help Save the Youth of America from Exploding ~ Less than Jake
"It's amazing how many people trip over beauty when they see it." ~ Charlotte RamplingElizabeth crept to her seat as quietly as her Docs would allow. Unfortunately for her, they weren't very quiet boots.
"Class starts at eight, Miss Bennet. Not five minutes after eight."
She cringed. Another tardy to clear. "Sorry, Mrs. Bryant."
"I'm sure you are. Maybe you should get some sneakers, so you can sneak in."
Elizabeth cringed again. Why, oh why, did teachers insist on making bad jokes?
"Liz, you should really show up on time. You're going to have a lot of hours to clear before prom." Richard leaned across the table and smiled at her.
Richard Fitzwilliam: Mr. Popular. Reputation has remained intact despite bright Hawaiian shirts. Tremendous ego well hidden by charms. Type of guy who likes Jennifer Love Hewitt but insists that admiration stems from supposed acting abilities. Wandering eye which he claims is merely lazy. Wandering hand which he claims is merely restless. Has cried during both 'The Little Mermaid' and 'Lion King.'
"Who says I'm going to go to prom?" She lifted an impertinent eyebrow and matched his leering grin.
"It's the first day of the semester. Could you please not mention that word?" Hazel turned around to give them a dirty look. No one should mention prom before April. There were rules, rules to be followed about that sort of stuff. Even people who were in actual relationships (ha, actual relationships in high school!) knew about these rules.
Hazel Lee: Compares herself to lasagna ("There's so many layers. And it seems really complicated until you get inside of it."). Finds nothing wrong with showing up in pajamas once in awhile. Curlers, however, would be a serious violation of upperclassmen code. Loves skaters and punks; therefore, any guy in Dickies who head bangs. Can't pronounce 'idea' or 'longitude.' Distorted mind may consist of ricotta. Must change laces on Converses monthly.
"C'mon, just ask James and get it over with!"
"Elizabeth Milla Bennet! I can't believe you just said that!" She tilted her head toward Richard. Did she have to write up a set of rules for Liz?
"Which James?" Richard scooted his chair closer to the two. "Is it James DeLuca?
"James DeLuca? You mean, the guy who hangs out with Billy Collins?" Hazel was appalled. Of course not James DeLuca!
"Children...I don't mean to interrupt..." Mrs. Bryant was going into her disciplinary voice. Slow and boring.
"Excuse me?"
All eyes turned toward the voice at the door.
"It's him!" Hazel exclaimed, breaking the silence. She quickly covered her mouth and ducked, as best as she could, behind Richard.
"May I help you?" Mrs. Bryant didn't look very helpful. In fact, she just stood behind her desk and stared at him.
"Um, my name is Will Darcy. I just transferred to Netherfield High." He walked up and not a few female heads tilted to get a good look at him.
Mrs. Bryant, much to the amusement of her students, straightened her graying hair before taking a look at Will's schedule. "Right, right. Okay, sit next to Ms. Lee there."
Hazel immediately turned to look at Richard and Elizabeth. She grinned and clucked her tongue. "Maybe I don't want James after all."
Elizabeth made no reply. This was that Punk guy from this morning. 'I bet he's an idiot. He'll drop out of Physics in no time,' she thought, making circles on her desk with her finger.
"Hey." His knuckles hit the surface of the table in quick succession. What, was he a musician, or something? "Nice to see you, Pop Princess."
Elizabeth scowled at his smiling face. He had a great smile. It pulled at the corners of his lips and reached his dark eyes. She couldn't help but notice he had these long gorgeous lashes, so dense it brushed his cheeks. She scowled again. 'I wish I had lashes like that.'
"Pop Princess?" Richard was grinning like a Cheshire cat but Elizabeth was in no humor for any of his wry comments.
"Shut up, Richard."
"Is she always so anal?" Will asked.
"Worse. Hazel Renee Lee. Friends call me Haze." She stuck out her hand.
"William Andrew Darcy. Some people call me hot."
"I'll be one of them," Hazel laughed at his out-right arrogance.
"Hey, we better start paying attention. We don't want our grades going down the toilet on the first day." Elizabeth interrupted.
Hazel rolled her eyes. She was going to get an A, no question. Just like Richard was going to get a C. Another golden rule.
"We're going learn about rotational motion today. Does anyone know what that is?" Mrs. Bryant asked without so much as looking up.
Hazel leaned over. "So, where are you from?"
"Michigan."
"Anywhere near Rockford?"
Will smiled. "I went to Rockford."
"Did you know Dathan Ritzenhein?" Hazel joked. Dathan was a two-time National Champion and she had bet good money against Richard that he would be one of the top three milers in the nation. Richard had been saying he was too much of a long distance runner, and they were waiting for the outcome.
"I ran with him."
Behind, Richard was leaning in close to listen.
Hazel felt a rush of adrenaline. She looked at Mrs. Bryant. She was drawing oblongs meant to be circles. "Did you run cross country?"
He nodded. "I came down to the Mt. SAC Invite last fall."
"I saw you!"
Will lifted his eyebrows. He didn't remember her, but then he had been upset when his father revealed the reason for attending the meet. They were moving. In the middle of his junior year, he was going to some obscure town in the suburbs of Los Angeles. What if he didn't have anyone to train with? What if there was no challenge?
"...the radian is a pure number. It has no dimensions."
"What's that suppose to mean?" Elizabeth muttered, frantically taking notes and trying to listen to the conversation between Will and Hazel.
"She means it doesn't have any units," Will replied nonchalantly.
"Are you going to do distance track?" Hazel silently prayed under her breath for a positive answer. She wouldn't mind seeing him sweat in California heat.
Will nodded. "And maybe some other events."
"What's your best mile?" asked Richard, practically on the table.
"Mr. Fitzwilliam, what do you think you're doing?"
"Um, I was asking Will here...um..."
"I was trying to differentiate for...what's your name?" Will swiveled around to face him.
"Richard."
"Yes, I was explaining to Richard the relationship between angular and linear qualities. He seems to comprehend the meaning of angular acceleration as the difference between the angular speed within the time interval in which the change occurs but he was a bit confused about how that ties into the tangential." Will spoke rapidly, leaning back and using his hands in a sophisticated manner. It was almost like a preppy boy surfacing. "I think he needs a visual to aid him in the understanding of why angular acceleration would be required for the consideration of the tangential and yet, in the centripetal, the speed...is...um, used."
Mrs. Bryant nodded with wide eyes before turning back to the board.
"Wow," whistled Hazel, who really didn't know how to whistle so it sounded like blowing wind...which it was.
"She only took that because you're pretty." Richard grinned.
"Why, thank you, Richie. I hope it doesn't mean you're hitting on me though. I don't swing that way."
"Hey Ed!"
"Oh, Elinor!" Ed dropped his books on her feet. "Oh...so terribly sorry."
"It's okay!" she laughed as he tried to pick up his books and brush her feet while his glasses slipped down his nose.
"I didn't mean to..."
"Here, let me help you." Elinor picked up his books for him while Ed stood shyly by, shifting his feet.
"What did you think about that new kid?"
"Oh, Will Darcy?"
"Yeah, hot as heck." Elinor watched as Ed's cheeks burned. "Sorry, you don't want to hear girls say stuff like that. Richard tells me he's going to be joining track."
"That's good."
"Well, I'll see you."
"Uh huh." Ed watched Elinor leave. She was so pretty and popular. Why would she ever want to talk to him?
Edward Ferrars: Completely ignorant of his status as the cutest geek of Netherfield High. Fumbles about like...what a surprise, Hugh Grant. Wild about Elinor, whom he believes is the most popular girl in school. Or, at least, deserves to be most popular girl in school. Wears bumblebee socks once a month. Hurdles without any sense of form, like a gazelle on steroids.
Elinor Dashwood: Not the most popular girl in school, but well known among peers. Is in fact pretty. Secretly wants to be Prom Queen alongside John Willoughby. On a more conscious level, wants to be on Prom Court and go with Edward Ferrars. Considers him a cute commodity and works well on her arm, like a handbag. Was a cheerleader but couldn't make Varsity her senior year.
"Hey, Ed."
"Oh...hi, Marianne." Ed slid into the seat next to her before drifting off into a daydream about Elinor.
"Thinking about my sister?"
"Hmm..."
"I'll take that as a yes."
Marianne Dashwood: Pretty in that librarian sort of way. Probably because dressed like librarian. Very smart and knows it. Carries a laptop and a laser. Flosses six times a day. Only likes sophisticated men. Has used laser against John Willoughby and has consequently, scared off any further advances by all guys, except Chris Brandon. Likes him very much but will never admit it because of his 'coarseness' (aka football player).
"Marianne, do you think...?"
"No."
"I haven't even asked the question yet."
"Whatever it is, Ed, the answer is no."
"Fine." Ed really couldn't stand her. He only tried to gain Elinor's favor by being the one person at school who could tolerate her sister as a human being, but he was doubting whether such a sacrifice was worth it. For one thing, she was a sophomore and he was a senior in the same math class. She also threatened him with a laser.
"Hey, aren't you in my Physics class?"
Ed looked up. It was Will. Hot stuff Will. He was walking toward Ed with that lazy sort of stride that said, 'Yeah, I'm cool.'
"Oh, yeah. Will Darcy, right?" Ed frowned. Guys that looked like that were always trouble. They always had the girls and he wasn't particularly keen on Will having Elinor.
"Yep," he replied, sitting behind Ed. "What's your name? I didn't catch it."
"Edward Ferrars."
"Nice to meet you."
"Yeah..." Ed muttered under his breath.
James Wallace came in and sat down next to Will. He was the kind of guy who introduced himself to everyone. James was a handsome guy... Why was there an abundance of good-looking guys at this school? There weren't any strange deformities or anything! Ed was considering a transfer.
Will started drumming on his desk, and mild-mannered Ed gripped the edge of his own slab of fake wood, hoping to save himself from the consequences of turning around and forcing him to shut up. How embarrassing to be pulled out of class! Ed was never pulled from class and he wasn't about to start now.
"Hey, I know that tune!" James started drumming along.
"What do you think you're doing?" Marianne turned around and gave the pair an evil eye sort of look. Unlike Ed, she didn't mind taking the initiative.
"Don't you recognize it?" Will said, continuing to drum in quick precision.
Marianne looked at him over her tortoise shell glasses. Another idiot... "No, it doesn't seem like I do recognize it."
"You walk this world like you're a ghost. Your hands are coming through the needles." Will sung, keeping beat with the song. "Sick of your tragic and the evils... I am the keeper of the songs of everyone."
Marianne turned around and opened her laptop.
"Man, I was dissed."
"Don't worry. She's always like that."
"It seems like there's a lot of girls like that at this school," Will mumbled, before continuing to sing in his throat. "Look into the sun and see your soul is dying. Used to feel the flame but now you're tired of trying. Should've left alone what you stolen from everyone. How are you feeling?*"
* Prophecy ~ Remy Zero
"Oh, you mean him?" Jane took a quick look around campus, hoping that she would recognize his great backside...er, particularly tall form.
Jane Bennet: Beautiful and most popular girl at school. Figures, huh? Has long standing relationship with Chaz Bingley, much to the cringe of every other guy she comes across. Dazzling, Colgate smile. Known for serenity (which also happens to be another name for sea cow, but only Hazel has made note of such a connection). Loves to turn up Terry Clark's "No Fear" or Limp Bizkit's "My Way" and dance with reckless abandon. (Of course, no one is around. Has only been caught by Richard Fitzwilliam and has duly threatened him with a pen knife.)
"Don't worry. He's coming out to track."
Jane nodded, sharing a secretive glance with Hazel. Elizabeth caught it nevertheless and frowned. "Is he the guy you two always talk about?"
"The one we saw at the Mt. SAC Invite?"
"Yeah."
"That would be him," Jane replied quietly. Her boyfriend was approaching.
Elizabeth frowned again. How could her cousin be obsessed with Will Darcy? She had a great boyfriend. (Okay, resembles golden retriever but treats her very well.) Punk Guy wasn't that hot. No, no...those deep-set eyes and structured jaw, crooked grin and dark liberty spikes, casual manner of dressing and laid back attitude...
"Liz?"
Elizabeth shook her head, trying to clear all images of that arrogant snoot. "Yeah?"
"Are you okay?"
"Fine, Jane. Just fine."
"Hey, did you guys hear about that-" Chaz began.
"Will Darcy. Yeah, yeah, yeah," muttered Elizabeth. "I'm leaving."
"What's with her?"
Charles Bingley: Defined as a ruffled cutie. Messy dark blond curls. Goofy smile, but really irresistible. Follows Jane around like puppy dog. Joined cross-country and track for the sole purpose of following her around like a puppy dog. Turns out to like it, and has only gone against Jane in refusing to wear bright purple running shorts. Jane insists they accent his muscular thighs but much too high for even his compliance. Pouts like puppy dog.
Jane shook her head. She didn't know what was wrong with her cousin, but she figured that Will didn't make a good impression on Liz.
Mr. Bennet was interrupted by several swoons. He rolled his eyes at Richard. If only he could attract real runners, not the frosh-soph cheerleading squad. Which included his own flesh and blood: Lydia.
"If we could all quiet down..." he muttered, looking directly at his daughter who only rolled her eyes in the same manner he did. "For those of you who are in it for the long haul, there's only one reason why you're here. There's only one reason why you come down rain or shine. Why you train no matter what. Why you never make an excuse for yourself or anyone else. It's the same reason I'm out here everyday to help you do your best. It's not all about winning. You're here for the love of the sport."
There were some sporadic cheers from the hard-core crowd. Mostly distance runners. But of course, Bennet was their coach.
Coach Bennet: Uses tweezers to pluck out gray/white hairs. Doesn't realize that 300 sit-ups each day doesn't do anything for the Ding-Dongs he eats during class (also Bio teacher who basically sits back and dishes the homework). Always a good idea to pull up pants... Disappointed that both daughters, Elizabeth and Lydia, are not distance runners. Ecstatic that Jane is an elite middle distance runner. Disappointed that Jane is not his daughter. Tends to forgo correcting people who mistaken her as his daughter.
"Well, anyway, welcome to Track 2001. It's my hope that we'll be League Champions this year. No, correction. It's my absolute belief that we'll come out on top. In the history of our league, only Rosings and Netherfield have had the honor of holding that title. And for the past three years, it has been us. Let's make this year our best year. Everyone run hard!" He clapped his hands together before nodding toward Elizabeth, rather reluctantly. "And yeah, those in field, do whatever it is you do."
"Isn't he just the best?" Elizabeth smiled.
"Hey, don't let it get you down."
"Who says I'm down, Richard?"
She was shooting daggers at him. Richard just shrugged. He didn't know what to say. Liz pretended not to care but he knew she did.
"Do you guys know anything about this new kid, Will Darcy?" Mr. Bennet came up to the pair with his customary clipboard and baseball cap.
"He's supposedly fast. Trained with Dathan."
"Serious?"
"He's probably lying," muttered Elizabeth, crossing her arms. Another dumb jock that her father could indulge in.
"You want to put money where your mouth is, Pop Princess?"
"Sh*t." Elizabeth screwed her face up in anger. Not only did she cuss unnecessarily but she did it in front of her father and Punk Guy. She immediately went down to do ten push-ups before she was scolded for foul language.
"I would assume you could prove yourself capable of those times," Mr. Bennet was saying.
"I'm not here to prove anything. I'm here to run."
'Yeah, whatever.' Elizabeth thought to herself. Suck-up! She started to walk away. It was her job to help the new jumpers get the hang of things. It was also her job to make sure the underclassmen were shoveling the pit. It was pretty darn good to be a junior.
"Hey."
"What is it now?" Elizabeth turned to face Will. She noticed the stark difference in his looks. His hair was no longer spiked with gel but ruffled by the wind. Instead of navy Dickies with a belt hanging over the side and a red Ataris shirt, he had on long running shorts with a white shirt.
Will pulled off his sunglasses. "I know we didn't get off on the right foot..."
"We didn't get off on any foot."
"Alright..." He bit his lip. He never knew what to say to girls without sounding, well...too much like himself. "I just wanted to apologize."
"For what?" For being a beautiful jerk, that's what.
"Look, never mind." He put on his sunglasses and walked off, leaving Elizabeth in the middle of the field, not knowing whether to kick herself or kick him.
March 1st, 2001, Netherfield High
Is this the real life?
Will pulled into the junior parking lot, his '65 Mustang receiving approving nods from the guys and himself receiving the customary glances from the girls. Same old story...
Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide
No escape from reality
Open your eyes
Look up to the skies and see
I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy*
He turned off his radio as Liz passed by. She only looked at the car.
"Just wait! That Corolla will be a classic when you're 50!"
"And that thing will be a piece of junk when you're 50!" she retorted, sticking her tongue out at him.
Will only smirked at her capable comeback. At least he could count on Elizabeth Bennet for not falling on her knees for him. She probably thought he was some ugly jerk. (Nah, just a jerk.)
"Hey, Willy!"
"Oh, hi Lydia." He cut his ignition and quickly jumped out.
"So, where are you going?"
"Class."
She giggled in that bubbly sort of way. Elizabeth rolled her eyes the same time Will did.
"Are you running today?"
"I intend to..."
"You look great when you're running," Lydia smiled, moving closer to him.
"I tend to look like crap."
"I agree!" Elizabeth immediately put in.
Will moved away from Lydia. As he passed Liz, he leaned in. "And you defend her because..."
"She's my sister!"
"She's a cheerleader."
"Well...so was Elinor Dashwood!" Elizabeth muttered, lost for words. It had almost been a month since Will Darcy stormed into Netherfield High and turned just about every girl's head in a 360 spin, but still he alluded the cheerleading squad and the drama department. Maybe he was gay!
Ugh, awful thought. Even Elizabeth couldn't believe it despite her attempts to find flaws beyond his exterior.
"Hey, Elizabeth, have you seen-"
"No, I haven't seen Elinor, Ed," she replied as she pushed all thoughts of Will to the back of her mind.
"How did you-"
"Because everyone knows, Ed."
"They do?" he looked at her with wide eyes.
Liz, feeling sympathetic for the density of his mind (why do all girls have to hit their respective crushes over the head with a lead pipe?), pulled Ed's arm. "C'mon, let's go to Physics. She'll be there."
"Okay," he nodded, comforted by the hope he would see her soon.
"Elinor!" Ed ran toward her the second he walked through the door. Unfortunately, he didn't see her backpack. Before he knew it, he had careened across the tile floor and into the wall.
"Ow..."
"Ed? Are you okay?" Elinor bit her lip. This was so embarrassing.
"I'm just..." He stood up, trying to kick the backpack away only to trip on it again. He hit the floor with a resounding thump. "Fine, just fine."
Will walked over and untangled the straps from his foot. "You can get up now, Ed."
"You know...I think I rather stay down here."
"Yeah, maybe, Ed," replied Elinor, already moving her seat over to keep him away from plain sight.
"Is he okay?" Hazel leaned over, falling from her own chair just in time for Will to catch her.
"Fine he says with his face plastered on the floor."
Hazel nodded before she sat down, firmly, and pulled out an Oatmeal container.
"What coordination! You just sat down and pulled that from your backpack at the same time," Will smirked.
"Thank you." She held the container under his nose. "Do you know what this is?"
"It holds oatmeal."
Hazel gave him that you're-being-an-idiot look. "It's going to be our camera."
"Looks promising," Will replied.
"Hey, I thought we were doing the camera project together," Elizabeth demanded. No, no, no! Hazel was her partner. Hazel had always been her partner. That meant she would have to work with Richard and he wasn't exactly cream of the crop.
"I'm sorry, Liz. I thought you were working with Rich."
Elizabeth walked across the room. "Elinor, do you have a partner yet?"
"Yup, I'm working with Ed."
Of course. Ed. This was so horrible. How did she not have a partner? Who else? Robert? No. Helen? Worse than Richard. John. Working with Annabel. Josh. Working with...who was that? There was a Peter in this class? "George, do you have-"
"I would love to work with you, Lizzy," he replied to her chest rather than her face.
Elizabeth nodded, feeling a little queasy about her choice. So, Richard was a lazy bum with a 72% but George Wickham... well, he did have a B and maybe, together they could get a good enough grade to boast them both up to A territory.
* Bohemian Rhapsody ~ Queen
"Nice hat, Chris!" John Willoughby cracked, patting his friend on the back.
John Willoughby: Considers himself a professional player. Key word: considers. Frightened of Marianne Dashwood after laser incident but thinks she's hot anyway. Really enjoys beef jerky and lime Jell-O. Position on football team: second towel boy. Can belch the alphabet backwards. Secretly baby talks with dog, Little Princess. ("Who's my Princess? Who's my Little Princess? Yes, you are.")
Chris Brandon adjusted the rim of his cowboy hat. "Do you think so? Lisa thinks it looks stupid."
"Are you going to let Lisa tell you what to do?"
"She's not telling me to do anything. She just says it looks stupid."
"And now you're considering never wearing it again."
"Well, I wouldn't say never," Chris muttered, taking the hat off.
"Put it on," John cried, doing it for him. "You have to be a man about this. Wear your hat. Don't listen to what women say!"
Chris blinked. If he didn't do that, how was he supposed to get a girlfriend? Rule number one: anything a girl says goes.
Chris Brandon: In one word: Tex-Mex. Wore red leather boots with steel toes first quarter. Second quarter, tight jeans. Started new semester with giant belt buckle. The only Eagle Scout on the football team. Tries to impress ladies but has gotten most of his pointers from John (yes, that's a very bad thing!). Likes Marianne but has failed to win her over (spilled chili down the front of her shirt). Settled upon entertaining Lisa who he considers "a very nice girl, I'm sure."
"She has you eating out of the palm of her hand!"
"I don't eat from her hand," replied a very confused Chris.
"Never mind," John cried, throwing his hands up. "You don't even like her! What's the point of stringing her along?"
"I'm not stringing her anywhere. She's not my girlfriend."
"But she wants to be and she has hopes, man. Hopes. Do you know how awful it is when a girl starts hoping?"
Chris thought for a second, but only a second. He had to warm up a bit when he thought, being a football player and all, but that went out the window when Lydia walked into the senior quad. To the girls, it was a serious violation of policy. To the boys, well...they were happy to see her, especially in a plunging red halter which happened to show off some of her midriff as well.
"Hey Chris!" She waved to him, batting her fake eyelashes.
Now Lydia could be a distraction, but even Chris knew better than to get tangled with the likes of her. Why were the freshmen bolder than the seniors anyway? It wasn't logical but Chris did get a C in Algebra, so maybe it was.
John, on the other hand, didn't take math. And he didn't mind a bit of trouble, especially when it was decked out in a miniskirt. "Liddy, baby!"
"Billy Collins? Now, he's a crumb."
Fanny Price, the ultimate nice girl, wrinkled her nose. She didn't think Billy was so bad. "He's crust at least..."
"What? Crust?" Elizabeth jumped up, her arms flailing. "Look at him! That is not even crust!"
All the girls turned toward Billy, who lacked the decency to walk about the track with his shirt on. Granted, many of the guys were shirtless on this humid day, but most of the guys had less reason to hide their bodies behind sweaty T-shirts anyway.
"That's something less than a crumb," muttered Marianne, who came down to take pictures for the yearbook. Though many people thought this was odd since she wasn't on staff. Like she would ever admit that she only wanted to scrutinize Chris Brandon and Will Darcy with their shirts off! Anyway, the pictures could come in handy.
"What do you think of Charles?" Jane asked earnestly. "He's definitely chocolate."
Jane's sister, Kitty, protested. Charles was too cute to be simply chocolate. If only her boyfriend (if she had one) could be as cute as Chaz. "You don't think he's cupcake?"
Kitty Bennet: Has always wanted to be like Jane, mainly because of Charles Bingley. Very neat and organized. Makes her bed every morning without fail. Has some portraits in underwear drawer of Jane's head cut out (stacked in chronological order, of course). Sings Britney Spears in front of the mirror with comb. Portraits of Charles hidden behind posters of N'Sync. Lines her Barbies in alphabetical order across window sill (very difficult task as all dolls are named Barbie).
"Not quite. We've already established that, haven't we, Haze?"
Jane awaited her reply but none was forthcoming. "Haze?"
"Hmmm?" Hazel turned toward Jane with absent eyes. She had been busy with Will and James Wallace. She couldn't decide which would be a better investment of her time.
"Oh, never mind."
"I think Ed would be chocolate as well," Elinor said.
A crash interrupted the conversation in mid-field. Everyone turned around to see Ed trying to untangle himself from a hurdle. "I'm fine. Really, I-" The observers cringed as he tripped over the hurdle again.
"You were saying, Elinor?"
"Well, I didn't say he was Godiva chocolate. More like Hershey's..."
One of the non-descriptive freshmen piped up. "I don't get it..."
Even Lydia had to roll her eyes at that one. "There's sure a lot of cupcakes out there!" To no one in particular, she squealed, "But then there's also cake!"
"Cake?" Hannah, a sophomore high jumper, piped up.
"Yeah, cake!" replied Lydia, pointing to where Will was finally pulling off his shirt. It was a long anticipated event on the track. He was always the last of the distant runners to do so and many of girls sat around after practice to casually observe (or stare).
The usual crowd included Lydia and her cheerleading friends, Hannah, Sophie, Claire, Kayla, Leslie, and Jessica. Some brave sophomores would show up, giggling and pointing at the many six-packs that cluttered the track. Even a few upperclassmen sneaked in, pretending to chat with various coaches or runners. Occasionally, Marianne would take pictures. Elinor was there for Ed-of course! And Lisa would twirl her hair as she watched Chris take on the hurdles.
As for Liz, she always stuck around to work on her form or help her father time. Anyway, Hazel and Jane were always the last people to leave the track. When everyone was gone, the distant runners were sure to be there. Elizabeth, having few opportunities to spend time with them, would catch up on everything when they all went to Starbucks for some much-needed caffeine.
"C'mon, Haze, break's over," Jane said as she got up.
"He really is cake," mumbled Hazel.
"What ever happened to James?" asked Lizzy sharply. She couldn't understand why everyone had to love Will. It was just so...trendy.
"Can you deny it, Liz? He's cake with chocolate frosting and icing...he's got Godiva shavings and dripped with caramel..."
"Jane, you have a boyfriend, remember?" Elizabeth hissed quietly.
"Double layered," she continued, more to cause her cousin angst than anything else. "With thick frosting and strawberries in-between."
"Sounds good, don't you think so, Chaz?" Will's voice startled the girls.
"Yeah...I hope she's talking about me, though," replied a befuddled Charles. She was talking about him, wasn't she? But he couldn't possibly be all that either, could he?
Before any other comments could be made, Coach Bennet sent the boys into their eighth 400 sprint. Richard immediately took the lead, but it was always Will who pulled ahead in the last stretch.
"You don't know who's going to win the race this Saturday. Not yet." Hazel said as the boys swept by them as they finished.
"I want some cake," moaned Elizabeth.
"What sort of cake are you talking about?"
You put yourself in stupid placesLiz turned up the radio before she reset her hand on the gear. Her left hand was on the wheel.
Yes, I think you know it's true
Situations where it's easy to look down on you
I think you like to be the victimGeorge casually placed his hand on the gear as well. Liz slapped it.
I think you like to be in pain
I think you make yourself the victim
Almost every single day
"Ouch! What did you do that for?"
"What did you do that for?" muttered Liz. She couldn't believe George couldn't drive! He was a senior! How did he go on dates with freshmen girls?
"You're beautiful when you're angry."
"Shut up." Liz rolled her eyes. She had to put up with George for the past half-hour. It was Friday night and she wanted to hang out with her friends. But no...George insisted upon working on the Physics project tonight. And he needed to be picked up from the mall! So right after practice, Liz had to pick him up. She was outside Sears for forty minutes. Just when she was about to leave, he came out with a false smile and apology. After that, it was nothing but sleazy lines.
"Are you tired?"
"No." Should she ask? Against her better judgment, she did. "Why?"
"Because you've been running through my mind all day."
Liz turned up the radio again.
You do what you do
You say what you say
You try to be everything to everyone
You know all the right people
You know all the right games
You always try to be
Everything to everyone** Everything to Everyone ~ Everclear
"If I put him in the 4x8, would he have enough time to recover? But then...distance medley. I could put John...no, stronger runner. What about Chaz? Where the h#ll is that boy? Stupid seniors!" Mr. Bennet was in a frenzy. And he had reason to be.
Sure, there were bigger things than the Foothill Invite but this one kicked off the season. This one determined a lot of boasting between rival teams Netherfield High and Rosings Prep. They would not meet for another three weeks after this Saturday, but their marks always proved they were head-to-head. Netherfield had brought home the Championship last year, but it only made Rosings' coach, Catherine DeBourgh, more determined to have it.
Elizabeth walked pass her father. She knew it was best not to talk to him at this time. She didn't want to talk to him anyway. It wasn't like he would notice the redness in her eyes.
"Okay, they're starting with girls 4x8. Hazel, Krista, Jackie, Jane. A-team. Grace, Mel, Zoe, and...Elizabeth, you're going to run the 800 on the B-team. Go warm-up. You're running in that order. Make sure you check in at the clerk of the course." Mr. Bennet called up to the stands.
The girls made their way down to the warming area. Elizabeth, who didn't want to talk to anyone, muttered as she went towards the left, "I need to go to the triple jump pit first."
Jane noticed a lack of enthusiasm in her tone but shrugged it off. She must be tired.
Elizabeth never quite returned. The girls looked for her everywhere. She was not in the bathroom. She was not scooping out the guys from Don Lugo. She didn't even sign up at the pit. (No one even thought of the fact that Coach only brought his distant runners and an occasioned few to this invite and Netherfield wasn't competing in any field events or sprints.) They went back to the bleachers.
"What do you mean you don't know where she is?" Mr. Bennet fumed. Ten minutes till race time! Even though it was the B-team, he couldn't stand the thought of any of his runners not performing their best. "Alright, Grace will anchor. Mel will start...Kitty! You're running second."
"I-I'm running what?" stuttered Kitty.
But Mr. Bennet wasn't paying attention anymore. The girls grabbed Kitty and went to the clerk of the course.
"Don't worry, Kitty," Jane said quickly with her arm around her sister's shoulder. "It's just two laps. Just remember don't go out too fast, but clear out quick enough so that you don't get caught up in the crowd. Of course, you probably won't have a problem. Keep a steady pace throughout. It's best to speed up along the straightaways and lean into the curves. If you hear anyone behind you, speed up. But don't burn yourself out. You'll need that second wind for the last stretch. Did you get that? See, absolutely no problem." She turned away from Kitty for a second. "Jane Bennet, Hazel Lee, Krista Barrios, and Jackie Leeves, Netherfield."
"Lane 1."
"And most of all, do NOT drop the baton." She held Kitty by her shaking shoulders and glared into her eyes.
Kitty whimpered. "But I'm a jumper."
"You're also a Bennet. Tough toenails."
Tough toenails indeed!
Despite a missing Bennet, everything went fairly well with the race. As a matter of fact, everything went fairly well with the entire invite. Netherfield had proved to be a top contender, beating Rosings Prep by 23 points on the girls' side and 18 on the boys'. Catherine DeBourgh was furious and attacked an official. Mr. Bennet was leaping with joy, almost causing himself a hernia.
Kitty ran a very capable 2:44 and collapsed on the infield as soon as the baton was safely in Zoe's hand. The A-team proved to everyone why they were the best. Hazel's early lead was certainly helpful, and her 2:32 was very satisfactory for the beginning of the season. Krista and Jackie both pulled in a 2:38, and Jane rounded it off nicely with a final push, outrunning Arcadia, with a 2:28.63.
While the girls were concerned over Elizabeth's whereabouts, they were also caught up in the guys' races. Hazel threw caution to the wind and placed her bet on Will. Jane and Kitty went on the safer route and chose the favorite, Richard Fitzwilliam. It was a close one. Even though the girls timed it, they weren't perfectly sure until they asked Mr. Bennet. Will started off with a 2:02. Charles completed the second leg in 2:10 and passed the baton to James who ran a personal best of 2:08. Richard ran a 2:02. Later, it was a discovered that Will was a mere one-eighth of a second faster. But he was faster.
It was all undeterminable, however. In the distance medley, Will ran a 2:03 in the 800 and Richard completed a 4:36 mile. Nevertheless, Hazel was glad and so were the Bennet sisters. The bet involved running across the field and screaming, "I'm wearing a Digimon thong!"
At the end of the day, the runners had cooled down and the trophies were awarded. Still no Elizabeth.
"I'm getting really worried," Hazel cried, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
"She's probably pissed at him." Richard nodded toward Coach.
"But she would've told someone where she went!"
Everyone nodded in agreement. Yet, nodding around in a circle did very little to solve the problem at hand. Will, luckily, was not one to nod around in a circle. He decided to get in some extra mileage by running along the outside of the stadium. Okay, maybe he was worried too and was making excuses to go look for her. But who knows? Anyway, he knew very well that looking inside the stadium was stupid since they've been looking for over six hours and still they didn't find her.
Will was sweeping along the parking lot and turned left. He tripped over her.
"Ow!" He was lying on his back now. Somehow he had twisted in the air. It was a running thing really. You had to protect the knees and it was almost automatic for runners to put their hands out or twist around to land on the backside.
"Sorry," Elizabeth sniffled.
Will quickly stopped his complaining when he saw she had been crying. "What's wrong?"
"Go away." She brought her knees to her chest and curled up into a ball.
"Is it your father?"
"No. As if that's any of your business."
Will sighed and got up, brushing off the dirt from his fall. "I know we're not exactly friends, but if you need my help..."
"I don't need help."
He tilted his head. It would never work with two stubborn people such as them. But as it was with stubborn people, he continued on, "You need someone's help."
"Are you telling me that I need a shrink?"
"A shrink? What does that have to do with anything?" Goodness, were girls confusing!
"Just leave me alone, alright?" Elizabeth was getting annoyed. Actually, she was annoyed the second he found her. Of all the people to find her, it had to be him! She tried to keep the tears from flowing for the billionth time that day but she couldn't stop herself. She hated it when she cried. And she hated it more when it was in front of other people.
Being the dashing hero he was and this big ball of mush inside, Will sat down beside her. He was unsure if he should give her a shoulder to cry on, but he didn't need to offer. She took it.
"You have bony shoulders." Her voice was muffled. He could tell that she was talking into his sleeve.
"Yeah. When I look in the mirror every morning, I always say, 'Gosh, Will, you have the worst shoulders in the world. Look how scrawny they are. They're nothing compared to your butt.'"
Elizabeth smiled but didn't reply. Finally, after a few moments of silence, she mumbled, "I hate you."
"I'm glad the feeling is mutual."
"They're all really worried about you," Will said as they walked back.
"Are my eyes red?"
Will took a look, though he already knew the answer. "No, they're rather brown."
Elizabeth glared at him.
He unhooked his sunglasses from the back of his head and handed them over to her. "That bad, huh?"
"Nah, I just don't like your eyes."
"Excuse me, but I think I have rather fine eyes."
"Is your vision 20/20?"
"Shut up."
"What was it?"
"Why would I tell you of all people?" Elizabeth cried while putting on Will's sunglasses. They kept slipping off her nose.
"Because sometimes, it's easier to tell acquaintances rather than friends."
"That's not logical," Elizabeth pouted.
"Sure it is," Will argued. "You aren't going to tell your friends, are you? Because if you were, they would've known by now. But you opted to sit beside the parking lot by yourself and cry. After six hours, you haven't even released all of your pain. You need to tell someone. Someone who you don't know that well is perfect for such things. You don't want to tell a friend because it will become their burden. But if you tell me, it won't become my burden. We barely know each other. But then, it wouldn't be your burden anymore, either."
Liz was listening to this with some interest and much confusion. She shook her head. "It has to do with George."
"Wicky?"
"You're not particular friends with him, are you?"
"I would say not."
Elizabeth smiled at that response. "I'm glad we have something in common."
"We have a lot in common," Will replied, his head down and his hands in his pockets.
He looked quite desolate in such a manner and it wrenched something in Elizabeth's chest. Heartburn? She hadn't eaten in awhile, though. "Do you want to hear this or not?"
"What does that matter? Do you want to tell me or not?"
Elizabeth did want to tell him, for some odd reason. "We were working on our Physics project. You know, the camera. Well, I was working on it. He kept dropping these cheesy pick-up lines. 'I've lost my teddy bear, will you sleep with me?' Do guys think that really works?"
"I don't know. I don't use pick-up lines."
Liz rolled her eyes behind Will's shades though she knew very well that this could be true. Why would Will Darcy need pick-up lines? Well, Richard used them quite often...but that was Richard of course. "Do you go for them?"
Will replied solemnly, "I think the best one I've hear is: 'If you were a booger, I would pick you first.'"
Elizabeth stifled a giggle. She was beginning to understand why Hazel was always telling her how funny Will was. She always thought he was just...well, a prick. "Anyway, I got fed up, so I decided to kick him out and told him to do his own work."
She paused. Will urged her to continue. "He got angry." She pulled down the shades and looked him straight in the eye. "He tried to take advantage of me."
"(Insert four letter word)-ing whore."
Elizabeth backed up, startled. She didn't know much about Will, but she did know he rarely cussed. As a matter of fact, she never heard him swear once. And the distant boys swore like sailors.
"Lizzy!" Hazel and Jane were running toward the pair.
"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Will whispered urgently.
"I think he was the injured party," Elizabeth smiled.
Will smiled back.
Oh man, is he cute! Elizabeth pushed up his sunglasses to hide herself from anyone's scrutiny and immediately greeted her friends as calmly as possible.
"Don't get lost again, Bennet," Will called as he left the girls.
She nodded. What would happen on Monday when she had to see George again?
Billy Collins: Most undesirable senior possible. The complete toad. Sits in the back of the classroom and picks his nose. On occasion, wears a dirty sock on his left hand which he talks to. Carries rather disillusioned belief that he's a lady's man. Or rather The Ladies' Man. Hasn't master the arduous art of tying shoelaces. Hasn't master the arduous art of taking a shower on a daily basis, or a weekly basis for the matter.
Billy wasn't talking to anyone in particular. As a matter of fact, he wasn't really talking to anyone at all. No one was listening.
He looked around the library. The nearest person was Marianne Dashwood.
"Oh, Mary!" Billy oozed toward her.
Marianne looked at him and his sock with disgust. She walked briskly away, but Billy wasn't deterred.
"Did...gasp...you hear...gasp...about...oaf!"
Marianne had made a sharp turn, and Billy, not being the quickest of boys, had ran into the corner of the bookcase.
"Mr. Collins, do not address me in public. As a matter of fact, do not address me at all." Marianne made an about-face and hit bedrock, or rather William Darcy.
Her glasses fell off. Will and Marianne both reached down to get them and knocked heads...of course. It was rather inevitable that this event would occur if they both made the attempt, but they were high school students after all.
Will was the first to get up with his hand on his frontal lobe. Well, not directly on it. There was bone, fluid, skin, and all sorts of stuff that separated his hand from that particular portion of his brain, but the point has been clarified if any confusion had existed anyway. "Are you alright?"
It was so unsophisticated, using the slang: alright. But he just said it so well. Everything seemed so out of focus. His face hovered over her. Was this love?
"Oh, here are your glasses." He handed them to her.
Oh, so that was why everything was blurry. Marianne stood up and straightened her wool gray skirt. No, it couldn't be possible. He was a jock and she didn't like jocks.
"Thank you," she replied, trying to be brisk about it as she usually was. Nevertheless, she choked on her words and after a pause, left in a hurry.
"What was that about?" Will muttered as he rubbed his head. Marianne was never so clumsy, and her customary sour expression had been replaced by a look of utter confusion.
"Hey, that's one of my ladies you ran into. You better apologize to me."
Will looked down to see a rather slimy guy with long greasy hair parted down the middle and a dirty sock on his hand. He reeked so bad that Will had to pinch his nose.
"I don't know what you're talking about but I'm going."
"Hey, hey, I haven't finished talking to you."
"There's nothing you could possibly say to me," Will replied as he turned away.
"Just remember, Mary's my girl. You can have Elizabeth Bennet. You know what they say about her."
"Excuse me?"
"She's easy, you know."
"That's ridiculous!" Hazel frowned. "Who would be spreading a rumor like that?"
"Well, Billy Collins is spreading it. I'm just wondering who started it."
Hazel was deep in thought. She didn't like hearing this slander about her friend, and she was deeply concerned. It barely registered in her mind that she was in Will Darcy's house, talking to James Wallace. It was almost perfect!
"Who..." She looked up to see James inches away from her. She immediately backed up. "Whoa! You were so in my bubble!"
Two seconds later, she mentally kicked herself. What was wrong with that? Of course she would want James in her bubble! Why did she back up? Stupid, stupid.
"Sorry, I know this isn't the right time, but..."
But...but what? C'mon, speak boy!
"Mr. Duvall, you know, the Psychology teacher, wants us to experiment with people. Find out how much personal space they need."
"Oh."
"It's really interesting, actually." James pulled out a sheet of paper from his cargo pants. He had a list of names. Will was the last one on it. "See, I tested Will just before you came. I walked up to him and I kept on walking. He started backing up when I was an arm's length away from him." James brought his finger up to the top of the list. "And Richard was one of the first ones. I got so close to him, I was uncomfortable."
James Wallace: Silly exterior but actually very serious and insecure. Has never revealed to anyone his childhood love of penguins. Has a collection stashed in his closet. Has never had trouble with fitting in but often times, shadowed by Richard Fitzwilliam in the girls' department. Likes to peel his banana backwards. Looks good all the time. Downside: cheesy smile. Oh, and needs to tie his swim trunks better.*
Will walked in, carrying Haze's Oatmeal container (aka camera) decorated as a dwarf with crossed eyes and uneven arms.
James jumped off the sofa and ran towards Will. Will instantly dropped the camera and backed away. "Hey, stay where you are! Bad dog! Bad!"
James did everything he could to get near Will. "Am I in your bubble, Will? Am I?"
Will started slapping him away, looking as though he were involved in a chicken fight. "Get out!"
Hazel laughed at the scene. She knew that Will was somewhat bothered, if not amused as well, by James but was reluctant to do anything other than run in the opposite direction.
Her laughter abated, however, when Will tried to jump over the couch and landed on her. James quickly followed.
"Hello! Petite-size girl here!"
Will rolled off, landing on the floor and knocking James off in the meantime.
Hazel, now being able to breathe, grabbed a pillow in vengeance. In a few moments, James and Will were in possession of pillows as well and no one was willing to give in.
*Based on crush who lost his shorts in the ocean
"How is this suppose to work?" muttered James as he picked up Will and Haze's physics project.
"Hey, aren't you going to help us pick up any feathers?" Hazel demanded, pulling one out of her hair.
James didn't respond. Will was already showing him how to work the pinhole camera. He pulled up the flap which served as the dwarf's nose. "See that there? It's a pinhole. When we expose it to the light, an image filters in. The light coming from the top slants down and the light from the ground slants up. We have black and white paper attached on the other side to capture the picture and it's all black inside, preventing any reflection which can distort the image."
Hazel, who already knew how the camera worked, impatiently plucked the goose feathers from the creamy blue carpet. She really wanted to go home. Not that she didn't feel uncommonly lucky to find herself in the company of two funny, good-looking guys who paid attention to her, but Harry had just discover the mystery of Tom Riddle in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. What was going to happen next?
"Are you bored, Haze?"
Hazel looked up and smiled sheepishly, "Not really, but when we were having fun, I forgot all about..."
"Oh..." Will replied, knowing that Hazel had been reading Harry Potter under his recommendation. "Well, if you want to go, I'll drive you home. James, don't eat everything while I'm gone."
"Scout's honor." James replied, putting up two fingers. "Or is it three?"
"Four," Hazel corrected.
"And you wonder why I never let that guy into my bubble."
Hazel smiled, wondering why Liz never let Will into her bubble. She always spoke of him with such vehemence, especially since the Foothill Invite.
Will had brought his 800 down to 1:58.4, two seconds faster than Richard's. And his mile was currently at 4:27, equal to that of his rival. Of course, there was a big gap between their two miles. Will had a 9:59 while Richard dominated with a 16-second lead. But then, they never ran against one another in the eight-lap race.
He hobbled over to the inside track, trying to look inconspicuous. Liz was there, but she turned away once he arrived. What's wrong with her lately? Is it the rumor?
He sat on the grass while Mr. Bennet went over the upcoming meets, placing emphasis on Rosing Prep, who they would compete against after Spring Break. He looked over at Chris Brandon on the other side of the track. Chris, who was suppose to be practicing his hurdles, kept glancing at Lisa and Lydia, trying to decide who he was obligated to listen to. The girls were both talking very loudly, trying to get his attention.
Lisa Dryner: Prissy. Spits a lot when she talks. Wears very short skirts. Has had her eye on Chris Brandon ever since he became football captain. Despises the color black. Twirls her hair constantly and only reads fashion magazines. Thinks of herself as the ultimate trendsetter and has the customary two sidekicks (with customary nose in the air) trotting behind her. Resembles a hissing cat, except nails are hot pink.
Lydia Bennet: Gives a bad name to cheerleaders everywhere. Gives a bad name to freshmen everywhere. Gives a bad name to teenybopper music lovers everywhere. Gives a bad name to girls everywhere. Doesn't believe in humility or bras. Lives by the motto that any attention is good attention. Does not own anything with sleeves. Doesn't own anything that covers her legs. Finds that other people's boyfriends are the best catch.
Lisa was getting really fed up with Lydia. She was just about ready to push her into the gate when Marianne walked down the steps toward the track, and Chris forget about the two of them.
Chris walked over to where Marianne was talking to her sister and Ed. Lisa and Lydia followed.
"...not like I expected anymore from you, Ed," Marianne was saying when the trio arrived.
"Oh hi, Chris," Elinor said pleasantly. "Who are your friends?"
"Friends?" Chris looked confused before he realized that Elinor meant Lisa and Lydia. He introduced them to her, Marianne, and Ed.
"I'm Chrissy's girlfriend," Lisa immediately offered. "We're going to the Sadie Hawkins dance this month-"
"We are?" muttered Chris.
"Are any of you guys going?" Lisa continued as though she was never interrupted. Her nails dug into Chris's arm and he flinched uncomfortably.
"I'm sure I'll be going with someone," Lydia piped up.
"And I'm sure Ed and El are going together," Marianne muttered, throwing up her hands. "What a great surprise!"
She walked away, walking straight into Will Darcy again. Marianne scowled. What's wrong with you girl? Why do you have to walk into him everyday?
"Where's your camera, Marianne?"
Marianne went pale. Her camera. She didn't have a camera. "Cam-camera?"
"Yeah, why else are you down here?"
"Well..."
"I thought you considered sports crude."
"No, no, not all..."
Will didn't understand why Marianne had been suffering from bouts of tongue-tie. He was actually starting to miss her sarcasm. Often times, he tried to provoke her but she would only stick her nose closer to her laptop screen every time he did so and type frantically.
"Um...do you have a date?" Marianne blurted out.
"Excuse me?" Will was thoroughly confuse. But then...he was a boy.
"I mean..." Marianne, what are you doing? But she couldn't stop herself. She had already gone this far. "Would you like to go to Sadies with me?"
"Oh...sure," Will shrugged, being dense and not realizing that Marianne was head-over-heels in like with him.