A Higher Education

by Rosalie Stanton

  Will jerked his head up, fixing his eyes on the calendar mounted to the wall above his desk. She was right, though her observation made the passage of time seem even more significant. Thanksgiving, after all, was a holiday that happened everywhere, not just at Meryton.

  Then it would be time for finals, and Christmas. And the whole next semester of classes which might not be shared with Elizabeth.

  That thought made his chest ache for an entirely different reason.

  “Hey,” his sister said, “I better get going, or else I’m never going to get this chapter read.”

  “What are you reading?”

  “Lord of the Flies. We have a test next Thursday.”

  “Liking it?”

  “Let’s just say it confirms my theory on the male sex.”

  “Yes. All boys are like Jack and should be avoided at all costs.”

  Georgiana snorted. “Gee. Subtle.”

  “I was just agreeing with you.”

  “Thanks. And thanks for not freaking out. Much.”

  “Much,” Will said, smiling in spite of himself. “You let me know if I need to—”

  “I will. Promise. Love you.”

  “Love you too, Georgie.”

  “Ugh. Stop calling me that.”

  She hung up before he could respond.

  It took a few minutes for Will to remember what he’d been doing before she called, but less time to remember why he’d had such little success. After several failed attempts to reengage with his reading material, he decided to stop being a hero and get the coffee his brain needed if the half day of studying and coursework he intended to put in today was to be accomplished.

  The second he stepped out of his room, though, he wondered just how in need of caffeine he truly was. From the sound of things, Charlie and Caroline were in the middle of one their more spectacular fights. Will hesitated for a moment, waffling between wanting to keep out of this and wanting to not fall asleep on his books. In the end, sensibility won out—given the fact that he’d volunteered to live with a pair of siblings who couldn’t be further apart personality wise, he guessed he’d been lucky that there hadn’t been a blow up sooner.

  Perhaps he and Charlie needed to discuss getting their own place, because Caroline had no shame in dragging him into their arguments—a point she proved the instant their eyes connected.

  “Will!” Caroline said. “There you are. Will you tell this moron that he’s making a huge mistake?”

  Will tossed a glance at Charlie, who looked about as un-Charlie-like as a guy could get. He must really be pissed. “On any given day, Charlie makes around seven huge mistakes,” he said, aiming for jovial and knowing the second his voice touched the air that he’d missed the mark. Still, now he was committed. “What’s going on?”

  “Fuck you,” Charlie all but snarled. “Fuck the both of you.”

  Will’s eyes went wide and he brought up his hands. Okay, apparently this one was serious. “Whoa there,” he said. “I’m just here for coffee. Feel free to leave me out of whatever’s going on here.”

  “Sorry, Will, but I need you to back me up,” Caroline said. “He won’t listen to me.”

  “Because you’re full of shit,” Charlie replied. “I tend to not listen to people who are full of shit.”

  Will shook his head and turned to the kitchen. Maybe they wouldn’t notice if he sprinted. “Yeah, I’m not touching this. You guys go back to—”

  “She’s trying to convince me that Jane’s after me for my money.”

  He froze. “What?”

  “For the last time, I don’t think it’s about the money!” Caroline barked an indignant laugh. “The money is a perk, sure, but what she really wants—”

  “Oh, this will be rich.”

  “If you’d just stop and think for a second, you’d see this too!” She waved a hand. ”She’s all over you one second and completely aloof the next.”

  “And like I said, if she were after my money, that wouldn’t be the best strategy to get it, now would it?”

  “You’re not listening to me!”

  “No, I’m not buying what you’re saying. Two different things.”

  “You’re—”

  “My girlfriend isn’t a criminal mastermind. And if she is, she’s not very good at it. She’s always busy. Hell, trying to see her now is damn near impossible. We barely get to talk at all.”

  Caroline crossed her arms. “And yet she manages to email me twice a day about the Realis Society for Women.”

  Charlie paused. “What?”

  “Yes. And they aren’t short messages, either. They are dissertation-length odes to the society.”

  “You have already sponsored her.”

  “I know,” Caroline said, waving a hand. “Which is what makes it weird that she keeps on badgering me, but every day, like clockwork, those messages arrive in my inbox. It was cute at first but it’s becoming a nuisance. She really wants in, and she knows there was little to no chance she’d qualify without a sponsor from the club president.” She paused and arched an eyebrow. “Think about it. It was all she could talk about last night when she wasn’t making a fool out of herself with Missy and Kissy or whatever their names are. She barely looked at you at all.”

  “I introduced her to you because I knew she wanted into Realis. It was my idea. She never even brought it up.”

  “Are you so dense to believe that she didn’t know I was your sister? She’s wanted into the Realis Society since she was a kid. Do you really think she didn’t know exactly who you were when you started hitting on her?” Caroline barked a snide laugh. “God, Charlie, open your eyes.”

  Will held his breath. He’d been too preoccupied with Elizabeth to pay much attention, but he recalled well the distance between Charlie and Jane when he’d reentered the club. Charlie gazing dopily from afar as Jane danced with her friends, seemingly completely oblivious to his presence. While she certainly seemed to enjoy Charlie’s company, he couldn’t deny that Caroline had a point. The few times Will had had the chance to speak with Jane, the Realis Society had been the topic of conversation.

  Some of the ire had faded from Charlie’s eyes. He turned to Will. “What do you think?”

  Will opened his mouth to again plead ignorance, then hesitated. It was true Charlie could be a manwhore; it was also true that Charlie had a tendency to crash into love rather than fall in it. Never had Will seen his friend so single-minded about a woman—at least not for a period of time stretching beyond a month. The fact was that Charlie was as moony-eyed about Jane as he had been in August and showed no signs of relenting.

  If Caroline was right, and Jane was using her relationship with Charlie to gain access to the Realis Society for Women…

  Still, it seemed unlikely that Jane didn’t care for Charlie at all.

  “Will?” Charlie said, his voice sharp. “Do you think Caroline is right?”

  “I don’t know.” The words were out before he could stop them.

  “What do you mean you don’t know?”

  “Just that,” Will replied, bringing his hands up. “I like Jane, so don’t bite my head off, but Caroline raises a good point.”

  Caroline shot a triumphant look at her brother.

  “In that she may be using me because I have money and influence and access to Caroline,” Charlie said. “Yeah, that’s not insulting at all.”

  “I said I don’t know,” Will said calmly. “But she has been rather single-minded about the Realis Society. I don’t think I’ve heard her talk of anything but that in the last few weeks.”

  “She’s just excited. And what does this have to do with me, anyway?” Charlie turned back to Caroline. “I have no sway over the Realis Society—”

  “She knows I wouldn’t have nominated her if it weren’t for you,” Caroline said.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I likely wouldn’t have met her otherwise. We don’t exactly have the same taste in…well, anything.” Caroline shrugg
ed. “We also don’t have any classes together and I certainly don’t care for her friends.”

  At this, Will frowned but didn’t object. It wasn’t as though Caroline’s opinion of anyone who called Longbourn home was a surprise.

  Charlie shook his head. “She would have applied anyway.”

  “Yes, and then she would have been a name on a list next to other names from other applicants who are all good candidates. Without a personal connection, the odds of getting in are steep.” Caroline pursed her lips. “I think Jane is nice. Very nice. But I also think she’s smart.”

  “She is!”

  “Yes.” Caroline nodded. “She’s a very smart, talented, African American woman on a predominantly white campus, relying on student loans and scholarships to get her through school, and knowing full well that having the Realis Society on a resume can be a real career boost. So she went after you, and when she realized that there wasn’t anything there, she made a calculated decision not to end the relationship because there was still something in it for her. I’m sorry, but you have to open yourself up to this possibility.”

  For a moment, Will was certain that Charlie would explode. Splotches of red bloomed across his cheeks and stretched down his throat. His eyes, darker now than Will had ever seen them, seemed the size of saucers, and a vein popped out in stark relief across his forehead. His chest rose and fell with hard, raspy breaths that echoed throughout the otherwise quiet common area—a powder keg waiting for flames.

  Yet when he spoke, his voice was soft.

  “You ever make an accusation like that again, Caroline, and you’re out of here.”

  Caroline went pale. “Out of…”

  “Here.”

  “Netherfield Heights?”

  “Try Meryton.”

  Will held his breath.

  “You can’t do that,” she said, though she didn’t look certain. “That’s not your decision.”

  “No, but it’s not your decision, either. You’re being bankrolled by our father, and that can go away at any time.” He smiled unpleasantly. “One little phone call to Dad and it’s sayonara, sister.”

  Will held his breath. This was a low blow, and he knew at once that the words had had their desired effect. It had taken a lot of persuasion to get Charles Bingley Sr. to part ways with his 1950s attitudes about women long enough to tolerate the idea of Caroline attending college. If Charlie called their father and said that Caroline was best suited as the shiny trophy touted out by a rich businessman than academia, she’d be out of Meryton faster than she could scream, “Unfair!”

  And Charlie knew it.

  And no matter how much Will didn’t care for Caroline, that was not right.

  The fight had vacated Caroline’s eyes, replaced with a different kind of anger—the sort that had the power to wound rather than rile.

  Will cleared his throat. “Charlie—”

  “No,” Caroline barked, the stricken look on her face fading. “Will, thank you, but there’s no need. I have done what I can. My brother is perfectly entitled to his own mistakes.”

  Charlie prowled a step forward, his nostrils flaring. “I—”

  “Please excuse me.” And without another word, Caroline whirled around and started for the stairs.

  Will waited until the telltale sound of her door latching shut echoed down the hall before turning his attention to his friend.

  “Really,” he said flatly. “You’re going to hang her education over her head because she’s concerned about your girlfriend?”

  For a moment, Will expected Charlie to round on him and resume screaming. It looked like he wanted to do just that. Yet that moment passed, taking Charlie’s anger and tension with it.

  “Caroline’s a racist snob.”

  It wasn’t a shocking statement, and Will couldn’t say he disagreed. Caroline, in fact, might be the very worst kind of racist—at least those who were overt were easy to spot. Subtle racism was harder to fight.

  “She doesn’t like Jane because Jane’s poor,” Charlie continued, his voice rising again, but not much. “Jane’s poor and she’s here on scholarship money and student loans. If that wasn’t bad enough, she’s black, so obviously she can only be after me for my money and connections, right?”

  ”You’re right. She is a racist snob.”

  “But you said she might have a point.” Charlie whipped his head up, his eyes flashing again. “Earlier, you said she might have a point about Jane.”

  God, this was why he needed to stay out of relationships. Anyone’s relationship.

  “I said she might,” Will agreed slowly. “I don’t know if she does.”

  “But you think she could.”

  He paused, considered. “I like Jane, Charlie. A lot. We haven’t talked much, but when we have, I’ve found her clever and…sweet.” A beat. “But recently, it has seemed like she’s been…avoiding you.”

  Charlie arched an eyebrow. “By coming over here every other day?”

  “She’s here a lot but she has been…” Will flicked his gaze in the direction of the stairs. “I’m not saying that means anything, but it could mean something.”

  He waited for the inevitable explosion. It didn’t come. What did was worse.

  Will watched as it happened—as Charlie fought down the urge to deny the possibility and allowed himself to consider.

  It was that moment that Will realized something he should have seen well before now.

  Charlie was in love. In real love. Not in lust or infatuation, or anything in between. To him, Jane wasn’t a college girlfriend—she was the long haul.

  And if Jane didn’t feel the same way, Charlie wouldn’t just be upset—he’d be devastated.

  Will inhaled a deep breath, held it, hoped to whatever was out there listening that Caroline had it wrong. With as fully and deeply as Charlie felt, he might not come back from losing Jane.

  15

  Time had a funny way of behaving when one was anticipating something. For Will, the space between his leaving Longbourn and arriving at the first class on Monday seemed to stretch for months. Even with the distraction that was a mopey Charlie Bingley—something no one should ever have to see—and the increasingly intimidating pile of coursework to tackle, the weekend couldn’t have crawled by any slower if someone had slipped it a sedative. Every time Will thought of Elizabeth, his heart did a funny jig and adrenaline tore through him like the Roadrunner on speed.

  Then he woke up and it was Monday, and Will didn’t quite know what to do with himself. He didn’t want to seem overly eager to see her but he also didn’t want to ignore her. There was no handbook to refer to and even if he had been the sort of guy who would rely on others for advice of this nature, he couldn’t have asked Charlie, anyway.

  In the end, he decided to go for calm but pleasant. See if she wanted to grab coffee after class or something so they could discuss what had happened in further detail.

  He chose a pair of medium-wash jeans and a long-sleeved navy tee, then spent a few seconds examining his expression in the mirror to double-check how he looked when going for blasé. It was ridiculous but he didn’t care, and once he entered that classroom, all the variables that were in his control would be exhausted.

  Will arrived at Professor Greenfield’s class with a good twenty minutes to spare, and this last stretch of waiting was, perhaps, even more egregious than two days prior. Professor Greenfield didn’t show up to unlock the room until around five till, and Elizabeth was nowhere in sight.

  He’d hoped that perhaps she’d spent the weekend in the same state of anxious anticipation that he had. That she’d show up early so they could talk.

  She didn’t. She showed up right on time, and the second she crossed the threshold, she pinned her gaze on her desk—right next to his—and dove for it. She moved in such a way that let him know she was very aware of him, but she didn’t so much as sneeze in his direction.

  At first, as that terrible sinking sensation fell past his ribs a
nd somewhere in the vicinity of his stomach, Will tried to reason that she didn’t want to interrupt class. It made sense, after all. Elizabeth arrived just in time to retrieve her books and her notes from her book bag before Professor Greenfield launched into their current debate topic—which happened to be condoms in schools. Then she became the picture of a model student, jotting furious notes, gaze fixed determinately on the instructor as conversation bounced from peer to peer.

  If it weren’t for the concerted effort Elizabeth was making not to look at him, Will might have felt invisible. But he thought this might be worse.

  Invisible people weren’t ignored intentionally, after all.

  “Mr. Darcy.”

  The sound of his name cut through the fog that had settled in his mind. Will gave his head a shake and jerked his attention to the front of the class. “Yes.”

  “What were your thoughts on Mendelson’s argument?”

  Will blinked. Mendelson. The name sounded familiar, but for the life of him, he didn’t know why. A fact evidently not lost on Professor Greenfield, who looked less than impressed.

  “Did you do the reading, Mr. Darcy?”

  Yes, he had. He just didn’t happen to remember any of it at the moment.

  His brain did not take pity on him, and to make the morning worse, his mouth likewise decided to go on strike and failed to respond to his commands to say something.

  At length, Professor Greenfield sighed and shook her head. “It’s your dime, Mr. Darcy. I get paid whether you learn something or not.”

  A giggle erupted from the back of the room.

  Will’s cheeks heated and he managed, somehow, to jerk his head in a nod.

  Professor Greenfield shifted her attention to Elizabeth. “What about you, Ms. Bennet? Did you—”

  “I think Mendelson’s got his head up his ass,” Elizabeth offered. “Every piece of information that is available to us at the moment tells us that access to contraceptives prevents unwanted pregnancies and STDs.”