“Julieta was in love with him,” Elisa said. “Everyone knew it. Everyone, apparently, except for you, and Bobby’s dumb ass.”
She tore her gaze away, but her eyes were more regretful than angry. “Then why didn’t she say so?”
“I don’t know, maybe the same reason you’ve spent the past six months acting like a complete bitch.” Even as she spoke, her voice was shaky.
Darcy glared at her, Elisa’s comment sending her back on the defense. “It’s just as well,” she said. “Bobby’s family never would’ve approved of him marrying into yours. You and Julieta, they liked fine, but your three youngest sisters—especially Lucia.” She let out a cold laugh. It didn’t suit her. In spite of everything, it didn’t suit her. “I know she embarrasses you. Don’t deny it. I’ve heard you reprimand her or complain about her countless times.”
“She’s my sister. That’s my job,” Elisa snapped. “And don’t you dare talk about Lucia that way. You barely even know her. Lucia is a kind, caring, beautiful girl, and she doesn’t need approval from spoiled girls who don’t know how to function outside their sphere of privilege.”
“Your sister, a beauty? I’d sooner call George Sedgwick a gentleman,” she scoffed.
At this point, it felt less like an argument, and more like a contest to see who could upset the other more. She hated the fact that Darcy was winning.
“Oh, right, I didn’t even get into what you did to Wick,” Elisa said. “You ruined his future. What’s your excuse for that?”
“Oh, yes, Wick’s life has been nothing but suffering,” she said dryly. “Rest assured, Elisa, all pain he’s endured, he’s brought on himself.”
“What’d he do to deserve you getting him expelled for no reason?”
Darcy tilted her head. “So that’s what he told you.”
“Do you deny it?”
“In part. I saw that he was expelled, but I had my reasons.”
“Knowing you, your reason was probably ‘I got bored,’” she said. “Darcy, from the very first day I met you—maybe even the first moment—you’ve been nothing but rude, condescending, and cold. I thought you were an insufferable snob from the very start.” She let out a small, biting laugh. “Well, it’s always nice to be right.”
Darcy’s eyes were slightly watery, but Elisa pretended not to notice. “I thought it was you who once told me that first impressions could be misleading.”
“Well, in this case, my first impression was dead-on. From the very start, I knew you were the last person I could ever fall in love with.”
Elisa’s bold declaration seemed to knock all the words right out of Darcy, and she stood in silence for a moment, staring at the ground. Finally, she took a deep breath, and her words came out clear, calm, and even.
“So, this is what you think of me.” She shoved her hands in her pockets. “I apologize for any pain I caused you. I wish things were different. I wish…” Whatever it was that Darcy wished, she didn’t say. After a few more seconds of silence, she raised her gaze to meet Elisa’s once more. “Happy Valentine’s Day. Goodbye.”
Darcy turned on her heel and left, leaving her standing there, mind reeling. She had absolutely no clue what she was supposed to do now. No one told you how to handle this sort of thing. It wasn’t every day you received a declaration of love, and it certainly wasn’t every day you received a declaration of love from someone you despised.
Someone who, up until now, you assumed despised you just as much.
The sound of a car in the near distance snapped her out of her thoughts.
Frowning, she hurried back toward the cabin, wondering who on earth could’ve shown up now, especially so late.
When she reached the cabin, she saw a new car out in front—a Rolls Royce.
Then, she heard shrieking from inside the cabin.
Panicking, every horror movie she’d ever seen flashing through her brain, Elisa grabbed a large stick from off the ground and ran inside.
There was a new addition to the cabin, someone standing at the top of the stairs, holding open the door to the bedroom where Colin and Charlene were staying. It wasn’t Freddy Kruger, or Jason, or whatever the monster was from It Follows. No, it was much, much worse.
“I’m sorry, Colin,” Tom yelled up the stairs, standing at the foot of them. “We tried to stop her.”
Catherine Burger. Colin’s mother. The only person that hadn’t known her son was dating Charlene. And, apparently, she’d just walked in on them.
Dearly hoping for Charlene’s sake that they hadn’t gotten past first base, Elisa ran up the stairs to join Catherine—or, more to the point, to back her friend up. She didn’t put the stick down, though. She could already tell that this was going to get ugly. Charlene and Colin had taken some clothes off and were scrambling to get them back on, and he was talking a mile a minute. He stumbled to stand in the doorway as if trying to shield Charlene from his mother.
“M-Mother, I didn’t know you’d be joining us. Would you like a s’more? Or maybe a hot dog? I think we still have some tortilla chips left… Uh, anyway, th-this is Charlene. You know Charlene, don’t you? She and I are…are…”
Catherine’s face twisted up in a way that made her look like a prune crossed with a bulldog.
“Colin.”
“Mother, I…”
“Ignatius.”
“Please don’t—”
“Burger.” She reached forward to grab her son by the shirt, pulling him forward like a vulture swiping up its meal. “You and I are going to have a serious talk. Tell your little girlfriend to wait downstairs.”
Colin faltered for a moment before swallowing a lump in his throat. He looked like he was trying to appear angry, but his eyes gave away his fear.
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said, no. If we’re going to discuss my relationship with Charlene, then that discussion should include Charlene.”
Catherine stared her son down for a moment. Elisa held her breath, waiting for Colin to falter, but he never did. He was visibly nervous, but he stood his ground, maintaining eye contact and refusing to budge.
This was probably the most Elisa had ever liked him.
Finally, Catherine spoke.
“Fine. But she, the one with the stick,” she said, pointing a talon-like finger at Elisa, “is to go downstairs. And after this conversation, everyone in this cabin is to leave. Holiday’s over.”
She shoved her way past Colin and stormed into the room. Elisa hesitated. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be a part of the conversation the others were about to have, but she didn’t exactly want to abandon Charlene to be shrieked at by Catherine Burger. True, Colin would be there, and he was showing a surprising amount of spine, but he still looked shell-shocked as he leaned against the doorframe, mentally preparing himself for what was to come.
Charlene seemed to sense her worries because she said, “Go on, Lisa. Tell the others to start packing. We’ll be down in a few.”
“Okay.” She glanced at Colin. “Good luck in there, buddy.”
She headed down the stairs, and the door to their room closed as she went. The others, including a now-awake Freya, were at the bottom of the steps, waiting for a report.
“Mrs. Burger wants everyone out,” she announced. “And, we, uh…depending on how the conversation going on upstairs goes, we, um, may also never see Colin again.”
Everyone hastily began throwing their things into their bags, trying to clean up the area as best they could on such short notice. Elisa kept casting nervous glances back upstairs, half expecting to see Charlene and Colin running for their lives.
Darcy hadn’t said a word since they got back to the cabin, even as everyone else was muttering about how pissed their roommates would be that they were back two days early or theorizing all the various ways Catherine could kill Colin. She’d simply dashed upstairs to get her bag out of the other bedroom, avoiding eye contact with Elisa.
That was fine.
After this night, Elisa hoped she would never see or speak to Darcy again.
Interlude: In Which a Hangover is the Least of Charlene’s Problems
Charlene had only had two and a half bottles of beer, but she was still too drunk for this conversation. Of course, she wasn’t sure she’d ever be sober enough for it. She sat on the bed, massaging her temples as Colin paced nervously and Catherine started on her laundry list of why she was completely unsuited for her little boy.
“How could you keep this from me, Colin? How could you?” she hissed. “And stop that incessant pacing.” She reached out, grabbing him by the arm to keep him in place.
“We were going to tell you eventually,” he said.
I wasn’t.
“What are you even doing here?” he asked. “I thought you had plans with Dad.”
“They finished a few hours ago,” Catherine said. “And I knew you were hiding something from me. I know you better than anyone. You asking to use the cabin over Valentine’s Day weekend only confirmed it. I had you invite your cousin so she could keep an eye on things and report back—but it’s a good thing I came myself, anyway, since that proved to be utterly useless. She wasn’t even here when I arrived.”
He groaned, hiding his face in his hands.
“How could you?” she asked again. “Colin, I have told you time and time again, we have a certain circle to which we restrict ourselves. Burgers marry wealth and prestige, not trailer trash like her.”
Charlene flinched, but she managed to bite her tongue.
“Mother, only marrying people of a certain economic standing is the reason my grandparents are cousins,” Colin said. “And if we’re going to have this discussion, then I’m going to have to ask that you don’t to refer to my girlfriend as trash.”
“This isn’t a discussion,” she said venomously. “She’s nothing but a disgusting gold digger—they all are.”
Charlene spoke up, then. “Believe me, Mrs. Burger, your son’s money is the last thing on my mind.”
“If I want you to speak, I’ll ask you,” Catherine barked.
“No one asked you to speak, you know,” Charlene said.
She turned back to her son. “Listen to me, Colin—girls like that, they’ll ruin you. They’ll take everything you’ve got and then run off to the next one. She’ll lose interest as soon as someone richer comes along.”
“Oh, please,” Charlene snapped. “Colin’s the first guy I’ve dated in three years. I knew about his money long before I was ever interested.”
“Mother, listen…” He reached for Catherine’s hands. “I’m sorry I hid this from you. It was stupid of me. But please, please give her a chance. Get to know her. I think you may actually like her.”
Charlene was certain it would be a cold day in Hell before they ever got along, and from Catherine’s expression, they were, for once, thinking the same thing.
“You two have more in common than you’d think,” he added with a note of desperation.
“I,” Catherine said, “have nothing in common with that uneducated, lice-ridden—”
“I may be poor,” Charlene said, voice shaking, “but I am not a second-class citizen. You cannot talk to me like that.”
“I can talk to the woman who’s exploiting my youngest child any way I like.”
“Even if that were true,” Colin said, “which it’s not—it’s not your decision, Mother. I’m twenty, nearly twenty-one. Charlene and I are both consenting adults—there is nothing you can do or say to keep us from being together.”
Catherine looked him over.
“Fine. If you feel that strongly, if you think you’re so independent—you can keep her around for as long as you like. But don’t expect my financial or emotional support while you do.”
Charlene rose to her feet now, eyes widening. “You hate me so much that you’d cut him off?”
“Children should obey their parents.”
“He’s your son, not your property.”
He clenched and unclenched his fists. “You can’t use the money to control me, Mother. If you’re going to force me to choose between you and Charlene, you are going to lose.”
“This shouldn’t be a competition,” Charlene said, growing more distressed with every passing second. “Your mom and I don’t have to like each other, but—I mean, surely we can reach some sort of compromise?”
“This is my compromise,” she said coolly. “Colin, if you come to your senses now, you won’t have anything to worry about. If you don’t… Well, you can say goodbye to your apartment, your tuition, your car…and everything else I’ve ever paid for.”
Colin took a deep breath. Charlene braced herself for what was to come.
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll be out of the apartment by Monday night.”
His mother looked about as blindsided as Charlene felt. She was so sure that Colin would ultimately choose his relationship with his mother over her, and Catherine’s face told her she’d been expecting the same thing.
The prospect of Colin suddenly being homeless and possibly having to drop out of college was utterly horrifying. The idea of him losing his family over her was also enough to make her feel nauseous. And yet, there was one voice—one horrible, selfish, wonderful voice in the back of her head—that almost allowed her to smile in spite of it all.
He chose me.
Catherine was absolutely fuming.
“You’d throw away everything—your prestige, your wealth, your education, your very future—all for this undeserving piece of filth?”
“Mother, I am going to tell you again to not talk about Charlene that way,” Colin said, visibly struggling to keep his tone steady.
“She’s using you, Colin. Once I cut you off, see how fast she leaves.”
“Mother, stop it.”
“I will not stand by and watch you get taken in by a worthless piece of sh—”
“I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP!”
No sooner had Colin raised his voice than Catherine reached forward again, pulling her son toward her with one hand, the other flying at his face. Charlene moved quickly, dashing to him and pulling him back. Catherine hadn’t slapped him, exactly—the more accurate term would be “clawed.” She slashed her nails across his face, hard enough to draw some blood, leaving bright pink tracks across her son’s skin.
He seemed more stunned than hurt and had a very blank look on his face. Realizing he was at his capacity, Charlene quickly said, “If you’re going to be violent, you’re going to have to leave.”
Catherine stepped back, surveying her work. Satisfied with what she’d done, she said, “Fine. I’ll leave. I wonder how long it’ll take him to come crawling back. My little boy can’t function without me.”
Colin raised his head to look at her, then.
“Yes, I can,” he said quietly. “And I never want to see or speak to you again.”
She stared him down for a second, before letting out an irritated huff. She collected herself before saying, “I want everyone out of my cabin in five minutes. And you’re out of that apartment by Monday night. Remember—you promised.”
“I remember,” Colin muttered.
Catherine left, slamming the door behind her. As soon as she was gone, Charlene quickly dashed to the dresser, grabbing some tissues to wipe up the blood.
“There’s a first aid kit in the bathroom,” he said, grimacing slightly as she touched where his skin had been broken. “I don’t think it’s that bad, but wouldn’t that be just what I need? To get an infection, too?”
Charlene nodded, and grabbed the first aid kit. Using a baby wipe to clean up his face, she said, “Are you okay, babe?” She sighed, shaking her head. “Stupid question. Of course, you’re not. But, I mean—”
“I’ll live,” he said grimly. He raised a hand to touch where he’d been clawed, murmuring, “Mother hasn’t done anything like that in a long time…”
“Well, it’ll be the last,” she said. “I know it’s not my place to say, b
ut even if you ignore our relationship—I think you did the right thing. I mean, there’s hating your son’s girlfriend, and then there’s emotional blackmail.”
“Yeah…” He sighed. “Once we get to where we have a phone signal again, I’ll call some of my cousins in the area. Some of them may be on Mother’s side, but one of them is bound to let me crash on their couch until I find an apartment. Hell, maybe I can move into Longbourn.”
Charlene hesitated.
“I understand if you don’t want to, so early in the relationship,” she said gently, “but you could always move in with me.”
He looked up at her, surprised. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I mean, this is kind of my fault, the least I could do is—”
“This isn’t your fault, Char. I don’t want you to offer just because you feel guilty.”
“It’s not just that,” she said quickly. “I could use a roommate. And, you know, I guess I like having you around. I guess.” She tried for a playful smile.
“Thank you. Thank you,” Colin said, before leaning in to give her a peck on the lips.
She smiled wider. “Is that a ‘yes’?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Yes, it is. And I promise, I’ll find a way to help pay the rent.” He bit his lip, obviously thinking very hard. “She already paid for this term of school, so she can’t take that back—I’ve never applied for scholarships or financial aid before, but I can learn… I have about $5,000 in my bank account at the moment—and we took her off the account when I turned eighteen, so that’s safe. She’s still making payments on my car, so that’s still hers… Shit, how am I even going to get to school now? I can’t Uber every day.”
“Your school is on a bus line. It’s a fifty-minute trip each way, but you don’t have to switch buses, so it evens out,” Charlene said.
“I’ve…never taken the city bus.”
She sighed. “Well, like you said—you can learn. You can finish up this term, and then when summer comes, you can look for a job. If you can only go half-time next fall, or even take a semester off, it’s not the end of the world.”
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