Pride, Prejudice, and Push-Up Bras

by Mary Strand

  I also didn’t want to spend another moment in a situation that kept teetering way too close to The Book. Alex didn’t say much, but something about him felt too much like Mr. Darcy. In a weird way. I told myself it wasn’t just because he didn’t give a rat’s ass about me unless I could help him keep Jane away from Charlie. I told myself I needed to get Jane home, even if that was exactly what Alex wanted. I told myself I didn’t really like dessert.

  Bottom line, if I wanted to fight The Book, I had to get out of here. Now.

  I gave Charlie a quick thanks, grabbed Jane’s hand over her sputtering protests, and launched us out the door. I didn’t need a ride home. I needed fresh air and escape. And time to myself to regroup.

  Chapter 6

  “Nay,” cried Bingley, “this is too much, to remember at night all the foolish things that were said in the morning.”

  — Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice, Volume I, Chapter Ten

  I tossed and turned all night, and Jane didn’t do much better. She trudged downstairs Saturday morning looking like a Mack truck had creamed her. In other words, not a whole lot different from the day before.

  Mom resumed the rampage she’d begun last night when we got home. “Jane, I still can’t believe you stayed overnight at Charlie’s condo. Girls get reputations when they do things like that. I don’t care if you were with Charlie’s sister; Charlie and his friend live there, too. And people talk.”

  At least, Mom’s friends all did. I hadn’t heard the phone ring yet today, but that didn’t mean Rachel’s mom hadn’t called yesterday when Jane and I were at Charlie’s.

  I smothered an evil grin, wondering if Mom would claim my reputation was somehow shredded, too. I wish. Didn’t it require actually hooking up with a guy?

  Oblivious, Jane played with a plate of pancakes, not eating much.

  “Don’t even think about going back over there today.”

  “Where?” I looked from Mom, who had clearly lost her mind, to Jane. “Charlie’s? Why on earth would she do that? She looks like hell.”

  Jane glared at me through the puffy red slits that were her eyes, then poured more syrup on the pancakes she still wasn’t eating. Several minutes went by, with Mom continuing to hound Jane, and Jane looking like a blind woman being trampled by a stampeding herd of buffalo.

  Abruptly, Jane stood up and headed for Mom’s office. “I have to check my emails.”

  I followed her. “Why not on your laptop or phone?”

  “I forgot to charge my phone last night.” She shrugged, even though we both knew it wasn’t like her. “And my laptop was last seen in Lydia’s possession.”

  Because Lydia managed to lose her own laptop. The second one in three months. Unbelievable, but I kept mine hidden when I wasn’t using it. Just to be safe.

  The moment Mom’s PC booted up, Jane started jiggling in her chair. I didn’t say anything, not wanting to draw any more attention to Jane than she was already doing on her own. Still, I was curious. When Mom stood too long in front of the open fridge, which meant she was cheating again on Atkins, I sashayed over to the computer. Casually.

  I peered over Jane’s shoulder. “So? Who’s it from?”

  Jane jumped nearly a foot in the air, then plastered herself all over the screen. “Who? What? Who’s what from?”

  I’d already seen Stephanie’s name. “The email? From Stephanie? Why is it such a secret?”

  Jane disengaged herself from the computer screen. “It’s not. You’re right. It’s just from Stephanie.”

  “Not Charlie?”

  Her chin wobbled. “He’s probably busy.”

  “He wasn’t too busy to hang all over you last night.” I couldn’t imagine why Stephanie was emailing, though. She’d been so intent on Alex last night, she’d barely said two words to Jane. Besides, why did she keep emailing when she could call or text?

  Just as I started to ask Jane what was up, the doorbell rang. Jane was still staring at her stupid email, so I went to the door. I blinked at the sight of Charlie and Alex.

  “Hi, Liz. Great to see you. Can we come in?”

  Charlie swept past me in a hurry as I danced to get out of his way. Alex just eyed me as he went by.

  Jane was nowhere in sight. My guess was that she stifled a horrified scream and tore up the back stairs.

  Mom, still in her bathrobe, swept into the front hall like the Queen of Sheba. “Charlie. How nice to see you.”

  Oh? Hadn’t she just spent the last half hour yelling at Jane about him?

  When Mom just nodded at Alex without saying anything, I wondered if she’d decided to be nasty to him for sport, the way Elizabeth’s mom treated Mr. Darcy in The Book. I suddenly realized that Mom had never run—or, at least, shown us—a Google search on Alex, even though she ran so many searches on so many guys that she ought to buy stock in Google.

  Charlie smiled way too sweetly at Mom. “Good to see you, too, Mrs. Bennet.” Liar, liar, pants on fire. “Alex and I are headed downtown, but we thought we’d check on Jane.”

  “She’s as well as can be expected, I suppose.” Mom sounded like she needed a fainting couch. “Considering the fact that she was too sick to come home the other night.”

  Thank God Jane wasn’t here. She would’ve died.

  Charlie didn’t even flinch, but I rolled my eyes. “Mom, she’s fine. We’re not talking Asian bird flu or malaria or anything. And that was yesterday.” I touched Charlie’s arm. “She’s fine. Really.”

  I could hear the shower running upstairs and was about to admit to Jane’s whereabouts when Mom cut in. “Of course, Jane isn’t a complainer. I wish Liz were more like that.”

  I nearly slapped her, but Alex had a huge grin on his face—the jerk—and my lips twitched until he started glancing around the front hall and into the living room. Our house wasn’t exactly swank, to say the least, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Alex lived in a huge mansion somewhere, maybe with his parents. He couldn’t be much older than me, so he might be suffering at home the way I am. Although I doubt it. I mean, the guy drives a Lamborghini.

  Not that I gave a rat’s ass about Alex or his mansion or exactly how old he is or if he has a job or is still in school or if he has a girlfriend—besides Stephanie—or if he ever fantasizes about my lips. But as I looked at the living room with unbiased eyes, I cringed. Dad’s yoga mat stretched out on the faded carpeting right where the coffee table used to be. The walls badly needed a fresh coat of paint. One wall had a crack running from ceiling to floor. The couch and chairs were older than dirt, and no one had ever covered the huge burn mark acquired during Lydia’s pyro phase.

  Dad came from money, but these days he seemed to be running from it, and our house was paying the price. Did all of my friends look at my house with the same disgust I saw on Alex’s face right now? I started praying fervently that Jane would show up. Now. Before Alex saw anything else, or before Charlie wilted under Mom’s onslaught.

  Too late. While I stood there, lost in my mortification, Mom started grilling Charlie. Sweat broke out on his forehead as he backed toward the door. I heard the shower turn off, but even Jane couldn’t make herself decent, including mascara, in less than five more minutes, minimum.

  I was even less thrilled about the Jane-and-Charlie situation than Mom was, since it would probably cost me my apartment, but I had to choose Jane over Mom. Besides, a puppy dog like Charlie obviously couldn’t handle Mom, and I’d always hated cruelty to animals. “Mom, didn’t you say you had to go into the office this morning? It’s getting late.” I grabbed the sleeve of her robe and pushed her in the direction of the stairs, then turned to Charlie. “You’re probably counting the minutes until Jane finally breaks down and makes an appearance. She’s here, I swear.”

  “Liz!” Halfway up the stairs, my mom sputtered, but I tapped my watch until she climbed the last few steps.

  Charlie looked surprised. “Do you always see right through people? I must be pathetically easy.”

 
“You’re not pathetic.” But he did seem to be easy, at least for Jane. I smiled at Charlie, then glanced at Alex, who was ignoring me as usual. Talk about not being easy.

  Luckily, Jane chose that moment to appear. She trotted down the stairs, dolled up in slim black pants and a cute striped sweater that looked a lot more like Jane’s usual attire than the tramp outfit she’d tried the other night.

  When Charlie stared at Jane, Alex stared out the window, hands clasped behind his back like an irritable sea captain. Worse, Mom returned within a minute, no makeup, hair unbrushed, and obviously wearing the first thing she’d found, probably on the floor. I sighed.

  Mom raised her eyebrows at Jane—who wasn’t even doing anything wrong, at least not at the moment—before turning to Charlie. “I have to go to work in a moment, but I just thought of the cutest story about Jane...”

  I waved a hand wildly at Mom as Jane went white.

  Mom smiled tightly, ignoring us both. Her favorite method of getting rid of a guy Jane liked, unfortunately, was to tell a “cute” story about her. No wonder none of the rest of us ever admitted we liked a guy. “Why, when Jane was just fifteen, a friend of my brother Ed went into raptures over her. He even wrote her some poetry.”

  “Mother.” Jane flushed, grabbed Charlie’s hand, and tried to lead him outside. But Mom yanked on Charlie’s other arm.

  “Really. His poetry showed some serious talent.”

  “Yeah, but how much can you say about three cruddy lines of haiku?” I detached Mom’s steel grip from Charlie. “Besides, Jane was fifteen, and the guy was something like forty. As soon as Uncle Ed pointed out those pesky laws involving statutory rape, we never heard from his friend again.”

  “Let me tell the story, Liz. You always focus too much on the sordid details.”

  “It’s true, Mom. And haiku? Give me a break.”

  I glanced sideways at Jane, wishing she’d drag Charlie outside while I distracted Mom, but she just stood there, looking like she might faint any minute.

  Alex left his sanctuary next to the window and joined us. “You don’t like poetry?”

  I shrugged, wondering why he decided to leap into this particular topic. “I’d rather go to a baseball game. Or a movie. Or maybe strip down a Pontiac GTO.” I winked at Alex. “Gotta love that 389 engine, after all.”

  I said that? I winked at him? Had an alien invaded my body? But Alex just smiled. That’s all. A smile, and not even that much of one. Like, maybe his lips curved. Slightly. As I tried to figure out what it meant, Charlie and Alex beat a hasty retreat, claiming they had to get downtown. As in, Minneapolis. Charlie gave Jane’s hand a quick squeeze and headed outside, Alex hard on his heels.

  Bottom line, Charlie came by to see Jane, bringing their surreptitious romance into broad daylight and my mom’s line of vision, and at what cost? Mom had embarrassed Jane and badgered Charlie, and Charlie and Alex now knew for a fact that Jane’s younger sister is a twit.

  And I’m not even talking about Lydia.

  So, basically, Jane was all dressed up with no place to go. If she was still twelve or thirteen, she could hop on her bike and pedal past Charlie’s condo, pretending she was just out for a ride. But that plan had several drawbacks, starting with the fact that she wasn’t still twelve or thirteen.

  I spent the rest of the day hitting the books and calling Rachel. Home phone, cell phone, whatever. No one answered, voicemail didn’t pick up, and she didn’t answer my texts. Rachel thought I should let Jane do whatever she wanted with Charlie— unless it forced me on a double date with Alex; even Rachel sided with me on that—but my head was spinning and I needed advice. Jane was on another planet, Mom was never first (or tenth) choice for advice, and Dad was better with cars than guys. We won’t even talk about my younger sisters.

  With Rachel missing in action, I kept replaying the moment I winked—winked—at Alex, after basically telling him I loved cars just like he did, which was true, but he’d only think I was like Stephanie. Or worse. Even Stephanie hadn’t offered to strip down Alex’s GTO just to hang out with him, which made me the definition of pathetic.

  Right now, digging a hole in the ground, burying myself, and suffocating to death sounded pretty good.

  Utterly oblivious, Jane kept asking me if she ought to call Charlie. I kept telling her no. Like, every fifteen minutes. When the phone finally rang around five o’clock, Jane made a mad grab for the one in the upstairs hall. She breathlessly answered “hello?” and said a few “uh-huh”s and a “thanks” before a final breathless “bye.”

  An instant after she hung up, Jane slammed open our bedroom door, danced across the room, and flung herself on her bed. Face-down, grabbing the pillow and squealing. I was at my desk, buried in my physics textbook, although I’d stared at the same page for twenty minutes without seeing anything.

  I glanced at Jane, then tried to look back at my book.

  “Oh, come on. You know you want to know who called.” A pillow hit me, and Jane giggled. Like an eight-year-old.

  My stomach rumbled and Jane obviously didn’t plan to leave me alone. “Fine. Who called? Stephanie? Wanting to double date with Charlie and Alex?”

  Jane just scrunched her nose.

  “Charlie?”

  Another squeal. “He was sorry for calling so late, said he’d been tied up in Minneapolis all afternoon, and wanted to know if I wanted to come over for dinner again. With you, Liz. Isn’t that great?”

  Not particularly, since I didn’t relish a replay of this morning, or even last night. I groaned.

  “Oh, come on. Charlie’s a nice guy.”

  “But the other two are vultures. Besides, where are you going with this? You know what happens. And you know what Dad said about not changing your cell-phone number again.”

  I decided not to mention the apartment. If I asked Jane right now, while she was mid-swoon over Charlie, I figured I’d get a big, fat no.

  Jane’s face lost its giddy look. Like, instantly. “It’s different with Charlie. It’s— Well, nice.” She shrugged. “But, just to be safe, I haven’t given him my cell-phone number. Even though I think Dad was just joking.”

  Dad didn’t joke about money. At least, not since he’d given all of his to a con artist. “That’s why he and his sister don’t call your cell or text you? Don’t they wonder? And does this mean Dad’s going to have to change our home phone number?”

  Another tiny shrug, followed by a bright smile lighting up Jane’s face again. Almost like she’d flipped a switch. “By the way, they’re having lasagna.” Jane drew out the word, knowing I was a sucker for lasagna but, like Mom and everyone else around here, too lazy to ever make it. “And five different kinds of gelato for dessert.”

  I sighed. “Totally unfair. Don’t tell me. Banana?”

  Laughing, Jane jumped up and headed to the door. I glanced down at my sweatpants and Gophers jersey. I hated changing just for Charlie and his pals almost as much as I hated seeing them again. But no one else would be dressed like this. Stephanie would probably be swathed in Armani.

  I threw on a new pair of skin-tight jeans and a black V-neck top. I wasn’t going to flaunt myself like Stephanie, and I didn’t even own the kind of bra they sell at Victoria’s Secret, but I could hold my own. Maybe.

  We reached Charlie’s condo ten minutes later.

  Alex answered—as always—and we went inside, where Charlie slobbered all over Jane and Stephanie slobbered all over Alex. After way too much slobbering, we finally ate the promised lasagna, which I had to admit was totally yummy, and the kiwi gelato would’ve sent me over the moon if Stephanie hadn’t been there to watch.

  But Stephanie was there, and so was Alex, and so were the unending questions. Would Charlie turn out to be another of Jane’s mistakes? Would Jane give him her cell-phone number? And would she beg Dad to change it five seconds later?

  After dinner, the group headed to what Charlie called the “playroom.” He dragged Jane over to a computer, loudly offe
ring to show her one of his games. Alex sat down in front of a laptop, Stephanie hovering at his elbow. It left me with nothing to do, as usual, but I couldn’t help listening to Alex and Stephanie. Unfortunately.

  “You get so many emails. What a hassle!”

  Frowning, Alex hunched over his laptop, obviously trying to keep her from reading the screen. I wondered why he was checking emails with all of us here, but, then, Alex wasn’t exactly a chatty kind of guy. Maybe it let him do something that didn’t involve pushing Stephanie off his lap.

  “Aren’t there a lot of smudges on the monitor?” Stephanie ought to know. She was about two inches from it. “Here, let me wipe it off for you.”

  Alex wiped his sleeve across the screen. “Done.”

  “You never send me an email.”

  When Stephanie pouted, Alex shook his head. Why would a guy send an email to a girl who’s never more than a foot away from him? Especially if that girl is Stephanie?

  Charlie looked up from his game and grinned at me. “I don’t know why Steph would want one of Alex’s emails. They’re like reading War and Peace.”

  “Yeah?” Alex got up and walked over to Charlie, grabbing a chair next to him. “Your computer games are brilliant, but everything can’t be done at lightning speed.”

  Like...kissing? Would Alex be the kind of guy who kisses slowly—you know, thoroughly—like he means it and isn’t just moving on to the next event? Startled, I blinked at the unwanted thought.

  Charlie flushed a bit. “Speed works for me.”

  “Is that why we had to race out here to Minnesota—” Alex broke off, frowning slightly as he glanced at Jane and me, then back at Charlie. “—to do a deal that isn’t going anywhere?”

  Charlie’s face went even redder, but his eyes narrowed as he glared at Alex. “Go back to New York if you want.”