On Compromises and Love- Chapter 1
On Compromises and Love
By: Roses04
*Hey guys, this is Roses04! This is the first chapter of my first story posted here and I hope you like it. This story is very loosely based on an Indian soap, Kutumb. I'd appreciate any feedback possible.*
As she strolled across the Harvard College campus, Elizabeth Bennet smiled and clasped her paper tightly to her chest. Grinning, she couldn't believe that she had received an A on her first college level paper. “Charlotte,” she called out, unable to keep a note of pride from her voice. “An A!” Elizabeth squealed as she collapsed next to her best friend who was currently sitting underneath a big tree.
“I knew you would.” Charlotte replied. “Anyone who spent three weeks meticulously writing that paper had to get an A.”
“Oh please,” Elizabeth drew out her syllables. “At least I don't spend hours in a Chemistry lab.” It was a rather well known fact that Elizabeth Bennet and science did not get along well. Elizabeth managed decently on the abstract concepts of science, but ever since she had nearly burnt her high school down in a lab, she despised labs.
“Hey, I happen to like Chem. It's a hell of a lot more fun than reading Shakespeare.” Charlotte retorted. Opposite of Elizabeth, Charlotte liked the dry practicality of the sciences.
“Whatever.” Elizabeth dismissed the idea with the wave of her hand. She leant back against the solidness of the tree. “I don't want to wreck my good day by discussing Chemistry.” She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Not for the first time, she was conscious of how much she adored Harvard. It was only her second month at college, and the novelty hadn't quite worn off. “Char, I'm so glad to be here.”
“I know, I'm good company, huh?” Charlotte teased.
“No, I mean, I'm glad to be here. I love it here at Harvard. I'm so glad I got in. I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't.”
“Me, too. It feels like home here. I thought I'd be so homesick, you know? But then again, I have you here too.” Elizabeth and Charlotte exchanged fond glances. They had been childhood best friends, and both were fortunate to get into Harvard- a college which rarely admitted more than two students from one high school. Truth be told, they were more sisters than friends. Despite their many differences, a bond was deeply etched within both of them.
“I wish you were my roommate, Char, instead of Caroline Bingley.” Pure distaste filled Elizabeth's tone at the mention of her roommate. “I have no clue how a girl that smart can act so stupidly. She spends all her spare time chasing after Will Darcy. God knows why.”
“I think Will's hot,” Charlotte protested. In all fairness, Charlotte was correct. Will Darcy, in the words of most young girls, was indeed “hot.” However, Elizabeth had formed a dislike for the Harvard junior since the moment her feet had stepped on the campus.
“God, he's such a jerk! Please don't tell me you're going to start chasing after him too, Char. I swear, over half the girls here are crazy about him. Please don't start.”
For a moment, Charlotte was silent and Elizabeth wondered if her words had somehow hurt her best friend. But before she could say anything, Charlotte began speaking in a bitter tone. “No, there's no point. Will Darcy wouldn't notice me if I was the last girl alive. Look at the girls he hangs out with. What the hell would he want with the ugly girl on campus?”
“Char, you are not ugly.”
“Save it, Liz. You know it's true.” She laughed, a bitter laugh that hurt her soul. “I'm not beautiful. Not like you.” And, with that, Charlotte gathered her textbook and left quickly, trying to hide the sting of tears from her eyes.
Elizabeth stared at her friend's retreating figure. She hadn't meant to hurt Charlotte. The triumph of her grade had vanished leaving a blank spot in her heart. She hated her friend's sorrow. Charlotte wasn't ugly, Elizabeth knew that wished Charlotte would believe that too. And Will could just jump into a lake, as far as she was concerned.
Even Elizabeth didn't quite know why she despised Will so much. After all, she hadn't even met him yet. She had, however, seen him and heard of him. There was something about him that bothered her, most likely his arrogance. It didn't help that stories about him constantly floated about on campus. Elizabeth usually didn't believe in rumors, but she strongly believed that in this case the rumors probably weren't off the mark too much. She wasn't exactly a die hard feminist, but his playboy stories had bothered her. She hated guys that just played around with girls and feminine feelings.
With anger causing a pretty blush in her cheeks, Elizabeth was unaware of the picture she created and the admiring looks she received from her fellow classmates. Leaning against the tree, she looked more like a wood nymph than a college going student. Honestly, Elizabeth wasn't beautiful, at least not in the orthodox way. But, Elizabeth was intriguing and alluring in a way that not even the most beautiful of the models were. She had rippling chestnut hair that framed her heart shaped face. Her green eyes contained lovely flecks of gold, and a few freckles marred her creamy complexion from perfection. At the height of five feet and three inches, Elizabeth was far from tall, but her petite frame suited her. While she wasn't a stick figure, she was fairly average with womanly curves and she had long since learned to love herself for the way she was.
But, Elizabeth was refreshingly unconscious of her beauty, a fact which added to her attractiveness. Her energy was directed into her various passions, which were numerous indeed, and her studies rather than basking in the glow of her own good looks. For instance, at that moment, Elizabeth was concentrating on finding a way to remedy the situation that her careless words had caused instead of attempting to further enhance the pretty picture that she made.
Chapter Two
“Hey Char,” Elizabeth murmured and sank down into a chair next to Charlotte. As most people would have expected, the Harvard library was large and silent. Normally, Elizabeth didn't spend too much time studying in the library. Silence rather bothered her so she preferred studying whenever possible in the comforts of the study lounge, which didn't contain the aforementioned hated silence, in her residence hall. Charlotte, as usual, was the opposite and liked the cold silence of the library. She found the silence comforting, comforting in a way for her that noise wasn't.
“How'd you know I was here?” And, when she looked up, Elizabeth could plainly see her best friend's red eyes and the traces of tears on her tanned cheeks.
“Good guess.” Elizabeth was rewarded by a faint smile on Charlotte's face. “Can we talk?” Charlotte hesitated for a moment but finally nodded. The two girls left the library quietly, well as quietly as Elizabeth could do anything which meant that she caused a fair bit of commotion, and proceeded to the same tree that they had argued under an hour ago. Elizabeth and Charlotte referred to the tree as “their” tree although technically the tree wasn't theirs anymore than it belonged to any other student. Neither of them could have stated as why they had picked that particular tree over the hundreds of other trees scattered across the campus for neither of the girls were like the infamous character Rory Gilmore who sprouted off several dozen reasons for her love for a certain tree. Simply put, the tree was theirs and had become something akin to a comfort zone for the girls.
“I'm- Elizabeth began but was cut off by Charlotte.
“Don't say it, Liz.” Charlotte looked down at her hands. It was hard for her to confess her feelings to anyone, even Elizabeth who was her sister in everything but blood. “You don't have to be sorry. I'm just over sensitive about my looks, I guess. I always have been.” Tears welled up in her eyes again, despite her best efforts to stop herself from crying. Charlotte often covered up her emotions with her dry and sarcastic humor, yet she was a sensitive girl who took a great many things to heart. “I hate crying. Jesus, it makes me look even more horrible.” She muttered.
“Char, stop it!” Charlotte looked at Elizabeth incredulously. Although, admittedly, it didn't take much to anger Elizabeth, Charlotte had never heard Elizabeth speak in that tone of voice to her. Elizabeth saw the look on her friend's face and regretted her sharp tone. Thus, she continued on in a softer vein. “Charlotte Lucas, you are not ugly. I wish you'd get that through your stubborn, thick skull. So, what if you don't necessarily look like the cover girl of Vogue, you are pretty. You don't give yourself enough credit, Char. I hate that you always do that to yourself. You always call yourself ugly, when you're not. You really aren't. Besides, you have more than any model does. You're intelligent and kind and thoughtful and one of the best people I know, even though you don't have the best taste in guys!”
For a moment, silence regained as Charlotte absorbed Elizabeth's words. Then she finally interrupted the silence with the words, “Me? Stubborn? Oh, please! The pot calling the kettle black!” Elizabeth gasped with false outrage and swatted Charlotte on her arm. “No, seriously, you're right, Liz. Thanks.” And, Elizabeth knew that everything was perfectly fine in the wonderful world of Elizabeth- land.
“Hey, Liz, weren't your books due today? You know, the ones you borrowed for your paper?”
“The one I got an A for, thank you very much.” Elizabeth said proudly, with a rather smug expression on her face. Though, perhaps, for the sake of seeing Elizabeth's character clearly, it is now necessary to mention that Elizabeth was rarely ever smug or arrogant about anything, despite all of her other flaws. The smugness quickly vanished upon her realization that Charlotte was correct, and to save herself the extra burden of library fines, which for Harvard were really quite high, she quickly, an adverb that is often used to describe the manner of Elizabeth's pace, left her comfortable place underneath her tree and ran to retrieve her books from her Charlotte's dorm room.
Now, as she was rooming with the truly wonderful Caroline Bingley, Elizabeth chose to avoid her dorm room, unless absolutely necessary. Elizabeth quite frankly, again an adverb frequently used to describe Elizabeth's behavior and personality, believed her room to be contaminated with all sorts of disgusting germs as a result of Caroline's promiscuity with several of Harvard's male students. Despite her adoration of Will Darcy, Caroline had no qualms in fulfilling forty percent (the other sixty percent had been deemed unworthy of her attentions or had rejected her flirtations) of the males' adolescent fantasies. Thus, Elizabeth was rather correct in her assumption that her room was a gathering place for all the germs associated with STDs. And, on the rare occasion Caroline was not bedding someone, the dorm room was occupied by Caroline and her ditzy friends. Caroline and her friends were something of a mystery to Elizabeth. How did any of those exceedingly silly airheads manage to procure admission into one of the most selective universities in the entire nation? She failed to take into consideration the power of alumni donations, for Elizabeth was innocent to that sort of thing. Therefore, most of her free time, not that she had all together too much free time away from the rigor of Harvard's curriculum, was spent either in Charlotte's dorm room, which quite coincidentally was in the same floor as hers, or outside. And, thus, all of her books were in Charlotte's room and not in hers.
After retrieving her borrowed books, Elizabeth wondered how she would manage to carry all of them down to the library in one trip. She could have perhaps made two, but she heartily refused to do that and spend any more time in the dreaded tomb like atmosphere of the library than she absolutely had to. So, she picked up all ten of the heavy book and began her struggle to the library. However, as she was rather short (petite was the word Elizabeth personally preferred), her eyesight was rather obscured by the large stack that her books created. Most people who were in Elizabeth's path had the good sense to steer away from, recognizing that no good would come to them if they entered into a collision with the girl. Will Darcy, on the other hand, had the misfortune of having his good sense blinded by another emotion, which can't be dared to be named at this point. Ergo, Elizabeth's first actual meeting with Will Darcy did not exactly begin on the right foot. Better put, their first meeting was synonymous with disaster.
Chapter Three
When Elizabeth first collided with Will, she fell to the ground in a heap with her books all around her frame. Will didn't escape either; he too fell down to the ground. Elizabeth's senses were temporary stunned, not allowing her to respond properly to Will's outraged question, “Hey, what's your problem?” And, Will, not understanding that she was merely stunned by her fall to the ground and the reign of the books as they fell down upon her, believed her to be in awe of the great Will Darcy, which added to his bad mood and fury.
“Why the hell don't you watch where you're going?” Elizabeth winced as she stared up at Will. After all, it was never pleasant to fall down and then have books beat down on you. But Will's accusatory voice and the look that he was bestowing upon her caused her to regain her senses.
“Excuse me?” Elizabeth questioned as she stood up shakily, her voice cool and dignified in comparison to Will's voice, which was full of anger. “You bumped into me, I didn't bump into you.” Though her voice was cool, she was in no way indifferent to anger at that moment. Will Darcy had hit her, and then had the nerve to cast the blame upon her! Of all the… Elizabeth was fuming, though to be fair it really didn't take much to cause her to do that.
“Really, I think the fall must have injured your brain, if you think that. I wasn't the one carrying all those books and not looking where I was going!”
“Well, at least I have a brain.” Elizabeth retorted back, not caring about the childishness of her remark. In her opinion, the conviction that Will was the most arrogant man alive wasn't much being contradicted by his behavior. It wasn't that he had bumped into her, she had been involved in many incidents where someone had tripped into her or she had tripped into someone. It bothered her that Will Darcy had an arrogant expression on his face and was looking at her as if she wasn't as important as him. The fact that he had practically bitten her head off from the very beginning of the conversation wasn't helping either.
“Are you implying that I don't have a brain?” To the outsiders who were listening in on the argument between Will and Elizabeth, the stupidity of the argument was blatantly obvious. However, the students at Harvard were rather brilliant and knew that to interrupt Will Darcy or the unknown furious girl who looked like she was rather dangerous would only mean harm for them. So, they wisely remained separate from the most childish and idiotic argument that they had heard since kindergarten.
“No, I wasn't implying that. I'm out rightly stating that.” With that, Elizabeth knelt down and gathered up her books. Then, she left fuming underneath her breath about the arrogance and stupidity of some males. It would perhaps be the best to refrain from mentioning everything Elizabeth said, as it would probably offend the sensibilities of some people.
Will, stood there sputtering for a moment after Elizabeth left. Noticing the crowd of people watching him interestedly, he snapped, “What?” Then, he stormed off in the opposite direction Elizabeth had gone in. He, like Elizabeth, was muttering something, which for the sake of maintaining sensibilities, should be left unmentioned.
Elizabeth deposited her trouble causing books at the library and continued back to Charlotte's room. It would be safe to say that the entire football team could have strode by naked with her name written on their chests and she would not have noticed. She knocked on Charlotte's door, which was opened by someone she didn't even notice. Her gaze fell to Charlotte who knew her friend's facial expressions well and knew that the look on Elizabeth's face didn't forebode well for someone.
“Char, you won't believe that arrogant, horrid,” here Elizabeth paused; she was having a hard time finding more adjectives to describe him. But, upon her pause, she noticed the two other occupants of the room and a crimson blush began tinting her creamy skin. The girl was Mary King, Charlotte's rather mousy looking roommate and one of her friends. She didn't know the guy but… Good Lord, he was one of the best looking guys Elizabeth had ever seen. And, she came in making such a scene. Her anger vanished and was promptly replaced with embarrassment, which was an emotion Elizabeth didn't exactly find pleasant.
“I'm sorry,” she apologized to Mary and the unknown male. “I got pissed off and came to talk to Char.” She sank down on Charlotte's bed, next to Charlotte and across from Mary and unnamed Hot Guy.
“Oh, no problem. I'm George Wickham, Mary's boyfriend.” George flashed a smile at Elizabeth. He surveyed his girlfriend and then Elizabeth, noticing her beauty, and sighed inwardly. If it hadn't been for Mary's inheritance, he would have definitely liked to have a little fun with the fiery girl in front of him.
Elizabeth, had she known George Wickham's thoughts would have really been filled with rage, but sadly she didn't. On the contrary, she felt slightly disappointed that the charming George was already taken. Had she been Caroline, she would have attempted to steal him away from Mary. But she was Elizabeth, and consciously doing something like that would have never even occurred to her. Conversation between the four people began flowing, and Elizabeth discovered that George was a junior and an Economics major.
“So, Liz, why were you so mad when you came in?” Mary asked, curiously. When Elizabeth and Charlotte had first met Mary at Freshman Orientation, they had been shocked by her incredible shyness; but, when her shyness had worn off, both the girls began to like her and consider her a good friend.
“Nothing major, just a bad meeting with Will Darcy.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes, and crinkled her nose with annoyance. George, picking up on her distaste, smirked inwardly. He had hated Will ever since childhood; however his reasons were malicious unlike Elizabeth's. He decided to further enhance Elizabeth's dislike for Will, solely to win Elizabeth over a little more and make sure she didn't fall for Will, by putting his dramatic flair to use and changing a few things to suit his purposes.
“That doesn't surprise me.” George shook his head. “Will Darcy is a real ass, that's for sure.” The three females turned to look at George in surprise.
“I didn't know you knew Will, honey.” Mary said tentatively.
“Oh, yeah, I know him, unfortunately. We… grew up together in Chicago; we went to the same high school too. I didn't really hang out with Will too much, though. I wasn't as popular as him, and God forbid Will associate with people on the lower popularity strata. But, for some reason, Will really hated me. He always went out of his way to insult me or make my life miserable. And, the rest of the popular group followed Will's every command, so they joined Will in making my high school years absolute hell. It's a good thing I had a few good friends, otherwise I have no clue how I would have survived those four years.” Here, he paused as if overcome if emotion. Mary put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and he turned to smile at her briefly.
“There was one girl, though.” His voice was soft and heavy with remembrance. “Her name was Jane Gardiner. She was gorgeous and sweet. She was popular, but she was still nice to absolutely everyone. She never tormented me; instead she even helped me a couple of times. She was head over heels in love with Will. She was blind to everything bad about him. She didn't care about his cheating on girls or anything. He didn't deserve to kiss the ground she walked on, but she loved him. And, she was stunning so Will didn't mind having this beautiful girl crazy about him. So, he asked her out. They went out for all of junior year, and then the beginning of senior year. Then, she found out about Louisa Hurst, another popular girl who Jane was best friends with. Will had been cheating on Jane for six months with Louisa. Jane was devastated; she had been betrayed by the two people loved so much. She couldn't handle it, I guess. She committed suicide that night. And, I can never forgive Will Darcy for that.” George sighed deeply and walked out, smiling on the inside. His work was done.
Mary looked up and stared as George walked out. “I should go and talk to him.” She got up and went after her boyfriend.
Aghast could not describe the extent of Elizabeth Bennet's feelings, after she had heard George's harrowing story. Her reasons for hating Will paled in comparison to George's. Much has been discussed about Elizabeth's flaws, but despite all of her shortcomings, Elizabeth was essentially a good person who placed much importance on justice and kindness. Will Darcy's actions had violated her essential beliefs to the very core. Her soul was outraged by what Will had done to that poor girl. She had stated she had disliked Will on numerous accounts before, but something had changed within her upon hearing that tale. Her dislike had taken in something darker now, something that could not be so easily removed.
Thus, as Elizabeth carefully said, “Hatred is not enough to describe what I feel for Will,” she whole heartedly believed it. And, Charlotte glanced at Elizabeth's troubled face and frowned. She had not fully accepted George's story, all she could think was that there was just something off about him. And, truth be told, Charlotte was perfectly correct in her estimation. In her thoughts, and decision to not fully trust George, she proved to be a better judge of character than Elizabeth. Her only problem was of how to convince Elizabeth. And, it may be assumed, that her task was not an easy one.
For Elizabeth, September and October had passed away too quickly. Somehow, even as fall faded out only to be replaced with the harsh Massachusetts winter, she could hardly believe that she had already passed three wonderful months at Harvard. To be sure, Elizabeth led something of an idyllic life at Harvard. Her professors adored her and the passion with which she approached everything, her classmates liked her (indeed it was rather difficult not to like Elizabeth). In short, Elizabeth felt a rather childlike happiness at her college, a happiness that had never been tainted by tragedy- for Elizabeth had never truly experienced anything tragic. She had known sadness, of course, but she had been conveniently shielded from anything that her family and friends believed would cause her a deep pain. Perhaps, that was why Elizabeth was so unprepared for pain when she experienced a tragedy of her own. But that was much later- many months later for that matter. As of November, Elizabeth was innocently happy and quite unaware of any event that could (and would) change her forever. The only thing that marred her life was Will Darcy. Ever since their meeting and her knowledge of George's story, Elizabeth regarded Will with a passionate, not that anything Elizabeth ever did was devoid of passion, hatred. And, consequently, her friendship with George Wickham was something Elizabeth viewed with passionate delight. At this point, it is necessary to mention (as it may have been stated before) that Elizabeth was lacking in anything really malicious. She had hated but she would have never wished anyone any veritable harm- despite her quite large objections that she would like to see Will at the bottom of a lake. And, as maliciousness was nonexistent in her heart, Elizabeth never expected anyone to have anything but the best intentions with regard to her. And, honestly, why would she? Throughout the course of her short life, people had solely helped her. While she knew that evil existed, Elizabeth nonetheless did not believe that anyone in her circle of friends had evil hidden in any corner of their hearts. Thus, she was blinded by her own innocence to Wickham's true and impure nature. To be sure, Charlotte cautioned her hesitantly that she didn't believe that George was what he seemed. For, Charlotte had not been able to shake her doubts regarding George Wickham. She couldn't help her disbelief in his sob story. Something in her reasoning did not think Will Darcy was capable of what Wickham had said, and she told Elizabeth that. Of course, Elizabeth had refused to believe such a thing. Her stubbornness in her conviction that Will was no good prevented her from heeding Charlotte's words; instead, she pursued her friendship with George and soon came to think of George as a quite good friend. And, ergo, the months passed and it became the first week of November.
The first week of November was lovingly termed “hell week.” It was unquestionable that Harvard students were among the best and the brightest, yet even they shook with terror at the thought of finals, which occurred in the first week of November. Many consoled themselves with the thought that soon they would be released from this intellectual hell and to the freedom of the holiday breaks. Now, for the sake of those unfamiliar with Harvard's educational system, it is best to explain. Harvard operated on a trimester system, meaning that students received a deliciously long vacation from the second week of thanksgiving to the sixth of January. Thus, students who were replacing sleep with late night perusing with their textbooks, which were now ragged from the wear, began dreaming of pillows and their beds at their respective homes where they would be given respite from the strenuous days at Harvard. Not to say that Elizabeth or Charlotte were that silly- actually, it'd be better to say that Charlotte wasn't that silly. Elizabeth began one of those sleep deprived individuals who due to procrastination had been forced to exchange sleep for studying as to assure themselves of passing their courses. As always, Charlotte was practical. She had begun reviewing since October and was as well prepared by the time of her exams as she could have possibly been. Elizabeth, while she was a hopeless procrastinator, did work hard in her courses and was incredibly well prepared too.
It is argued that Harvard is filled with “dorks” who simply adore learning and never bother looking up from the small print of their text books. Those people have obviously never viewed the campus on the last day of finals. As on most colleges, students walked out from the last final with pure joy and relief on their faces. Elizabeth herself placed the last period on her English essay, turned her paper in, and fairly danced out of the class. Charlotte, calmly, turned her paper in but was unable to disguise her happiness from her face. But the joy in the afternoon translated into one of Harvard's most venerable traditions: the fraternity given party on Friday night. A building couldn't possibly hold the amount of students who poured in from some well deserved fun, thus the party was held outside despite the frigid air. And, it was this precise wild party that Elizabeth was attempting to convince Charlotte to attend.
“Char, please, you have to go!” Elizabeth pleaded, with her arms crossed and a pout, which Charlotte knew very well, on her lips. She was already dressed and fully ready to enjoy herself.
“I don't know Liz. You know the whole keg parties aren't my scene.” And, keg parties weren't Charlotte's scene. Ever since her mother had been killed by a drunk driver, Charlotte had a deep aversion, an aversion that she couldn't change, to alcohol of any kind. The keg parties represented something to Charlotte, something that she despised.
“Char, there's only going to be one keg. Besides, I'm not going to be drinking.” Seeing that Charlotte remained unswayed, Elizabeth switched tactics. “Come on, Char. I didn't say anything when you didn't go to the party on Halloween. Parties aren't fun without you. Please.”
Charlotte stared at Elizabeth and sighed. Suddenly, an emotion stirred within her. Just as quickly as she had denied wanting to go, she experienced a deep desire to go and feel like a normal college student. She had never in her entire high school career gone to any wild party, and now she simply wanted to go. “Fine,” she said, pretending to have made a sacrifice on her part.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Elizabeth shrieked. “Let's go!”
“Liz,” Charlotte replied with a slight laughter in her voice, “do you really want me to go in my sweats? Can I at least change?”
“Oh, fine, but hurry up!”
And, at this wild party, which was wild in every meaning of the word, did Elizabeth's second meeting with Will Darcy occur.
Chapter Five
Elizabeth and Charlotte stumbled out of their residence hall and out to the center of the campus, laughing helplessly. It was not quite knows as to what had provoked their laughter, indeed neither of the girls knew either, but whatever it was it had thrown the girls into a fit of mirthful laughter. Neither of the girls had known how much stress the exams had placed them under until they felt the wonderful lightness of the knowledge that the finals were finally over. Of course, once at home, both of the friends knew that they would worry about results but for now they desired to let loose and relax.
“Hey, Liz,” Charlotte giggled, “isn't that guy hot?” She pointed to an unknown guy and giggled again. Had anyone seen her and not known her, they would have automatically assumed that she was drunk or high. But, Charlotte was vehemently opposed to both of those things and she was merely feeling rather silly that night.
Elizabeth looked at that guy and squinted. She, too, was in something of a silly mood that night, although it must be said that Elizabeth fell into those silly moods far more frequently than Charlotte ever did. “Oh yeah,” she breathed in. “I think, he's a junior too.”
“Oh, man, why are all the hot guys juniors?” Charlotte moaned. For a moment, her silliness disappeared. “Liz, look, there's Will Darcy.” She frowned. “Liz, for a guy that's supposed to be such a playboy, I never see him around too many girls.” And, again, Charlotte was right. Even at that minute, Will was surrounded by his fellow frat brothers. While, his friends had girls wrapped around their arms, Will's arms were surprisingly free. Charlotte stared at her friend from the corners of her eyes to see if her statement had any effect on Elizabeth.
“Oh, who cares about that stupid Will Darcy who thinks he's so much better than everyone else? I mean, look at the guy's face? It's so obvious that he's an arrogant jerk!” Elizabeth snorted. Charlotte looked again at Will, and once more at her friend and sighed. She didn't see any sign of arrogance on Will's face; he merely looked like any other guy having fun at a party. And, again, Charlotte was right. Elizabeth's dislike for Will had even colored the way Elizabeth viewed him. She was no longer objective, though honestly Elizabeth was rarely objective as her likes and dislikes influenced her way of seeing.
“Hey, Liz, I think I see Elinor Dashwood! I'm going to say hi to her, you want to come?”
“Nah, I'll wait for you here.” Charlotte smiled and began weaving her way through the throngs of people. As Elizabeth found herself alone, a feeling of loneliness overtook her. As she looked out at the couples dancing to the beat of the loud music, she couldn't help the feeling of isolation she felt.
It was at that moment, Will looked over and truly saw Elizabeth for the first time. The first time they had met, Will's emotions had stopped him from really seeing Elizabeth. Perhaps, now would be the best time to explain Will's horrible mood on the day of his first meeting with Elizabeth. Will had received the news that his Aunt Catherine de Bourgh, his adoptive mother, had been hospitalized. Will's own parents had died quite early in his childhood, and his Aunt Catherine and her husband had taken in Will and his younger sister in. They had never seen a difference between the two young Darcy children and Anne, their own child. The memory of his mother was very faint in Will's memory, and he viewed his Aunt Catherine as his mother. Thus, when he heard the news, the idea that his “mother” could die inspired within him fear and anger. Anger at the thought that God could take away the only mother he had. Fear at the thought that God would do so, and tear his family apart again. When, Will collided with Elizabeth, his reasoning and heart contained a thin clouding over them. When Elizabeth didn't first reply to his question, he mistakenly assumed Elizabeth was just like the rest of the girls of campus who worshipped him. And, rest assured, it was not Will's arrogance which caused him to believe that the majority of the girls on campus liked him. It was simply an honest fact; Will, to his credit, didn't let it go to his head either. He recognized their adoration for what it was worth: nothing. And, after the news that his aunt was out of all danger, Will had cringed at the recollection of his meeting with the girl whose name he didn't know. Will, despite his stubbornness and yes relative arrogance, was a gentleman and he hated that his behavior didn't reflect that. But men in general have the uncanny ability to dismiss embarrassing recollections from their mind, and Will was really no different in that aspect. However, upon seeing her again, her beauty took his breath away. He smiled impishly, causing many nearby girls to swoon. Perhaps, he could apologize. After all, didn't someone famous say that apologizing could remedy any situation?
To answer Will's question, no one famous did say that quote. Furthermore, it is highly doubtful that anyone stated that quote at all. But, searching for an answer wasn't a high priority on Will's list, thus the fact that there was no answer to his question doesn't exactly matter.
Will turned to Edward Ferrars, a fellow Frat brother of his and one of his good friends. “Hey, Eddie, do you know that girl over there?” Ah, the infamous line of men appears finally. For decades, many romantic tales have begun due to the questioning by a man if his friend knows the name of the girl he has been secretly harboring a fondness for.
Edward looked at the direction that Will was pointing at and stared for a few moments, as if searching for a name. “Yeah,” he finally said. “Her name's Cara or something like that,” he slurred. Normally, Edward was something of a human computer in his ability to memorize names and connect them to people; however, drinking affects the abilities of the best people, and Edward Ferrars could be not be termed, by a stretch of imagination, one of the best of people and mistook Elizabeth's name. His mistake, in return, caused a bit of harm to Will as most women do prefer for men to get their names correct at the very least.
And, like most men who see that their friends are happily drunk with no danger of causing harm, Will didn't particularly care about his friend's current state of inebriation and only patted Edward on his shoulder absentmindedly before heading towards the girl whose name he unfortunately believed was Cara.
“Hey, Cara. I'm Will. Listen,” Will began, smiling disarmingly at Elizabeth. He was surprised when Elizabeth turned an indifferent face towards him; he had not expected his smile to not have an affect on her. He shrugged inwardly and continued on, not realizing he was messing things up instead of fixing them. “I'm really sorry about what happened the other day.” There was no mistaking his sincerity, for he really was sorry about his behavior. He paused for a few seconds, as if to allow Elizabeth to say something. Elizabeth, however, stubbornly continued to ignore him.
Elizabeth, meanwhile, felt her fury bubble within her fiery tempered heart. The fact that Will didn't even have the decency to get her name right added to her fury. And, regarding his apology, she could think of a few places where he could shove his stupid apology as far as she was concerned.
Will remained oblivious to Elizabeth's stony silence. He decided that she was merely feeling a bit shy, which was a grievous misjudgment for his part since shyness was an emotion Elizabeth rarely felt. Shyness could have never been called a part of her character. So, he added, “You want to dance?”
And, thus, Will Darcy sparked an event which will forever be transcribed in the records of Harvard's history. Elizabeth couldn't contain her anger; her anger was growing beyond the means of her control. Will Darcy had the nerve to knock her over, blame her for their collision when it was so clear that he was solely to blame, practically kill that poor innocent Jane Gardiner, treat the sweet George so cruelly, get her name wrong, and then ask her to dance with him. Remembering George Wickham's story of the innocent girl beguiled by Will and her own grudges against him, Elizabeth smiled sweetly at Will and gave him the mistaken impression that everything was perfectly fine. Then, she poured the contents of her filled can of Diet Coke over Will Darcy's immaculately styled hair. The entire party seemed to silence immediately and the blaring music seemed eerie against the sudden quietness that had fallen over the crowd. Will, himself, stared disbelieving at the soda that now dribbled onto his new, white sweater.
“What the hell was that for, Cara?” He questioned angrily, as he looked at Elizabeth who smiled sweetly again. Elizabeth merely calmly, yes calmly for watching Will's horrified expression had soothed her temper tremendously, patted his chest.
“That's for your overall ickiness.” She replied, before strolling off with everyone's eyes following her stride.
Ickiness, is that even a word? Will certainly didn't think so. What had driven her to dump her soda over him? Geez, he had only bumped into and that was only once? Girls, he decided, were indefinitely odd. The crowd began talking and dancing again, and soon the party was playing out at full blast all over again even though no one could forget the events that had just occurred.
“Hey, dude, next time you might wanna get the chick's name right.” Will whirled around to see John Willoughby smirking at him.
“What do you mean?” He asked; he couldn't say he liked John and John's ways of playing with girls, but if John had any information he was more than willing to listen.
“I mean, her name isn't Cara or whatever you just called her. Dude, I can not believe you.” He laughed, while he was no stranger to drinking, the alcohol was making everything seem hilarious to him. “Her name is Elizabeth. And, you're the genius? Whatever.” With this amazingly brilliant speech, John left Will in search of Marianne Dashwood- the current flavor of his month.
“Shit,” Will groaned, running his hands through his soda splattered hair. “I'm an idiot.” It was certain that Elizabeth would not have disagreed.
Elizabeth lay silently on her bed, tears prickling her eyes. Her dorm room was silent and dark, for once. Caroline was still partying, or so she assumed for she didn't exactly wish to know where or what Caroline was doing. “I can't believe I'm crying over Will Darcy,” Elizabeth muttered harshly, trying to wipe away her tears. But the tears, much like her temper, were beyond her control and continued to spill down from her expressive eyes. She despised crying for some reason. Crying made her feel somewhat helpless, and helplessness was not a feeling that Elizabeth Bennet liked feeling. In her mind, Wickham's story played repeatedly. She closed her eyes as she heard George's words about Jane resound in her heart and brain. Her breathing grew ragged, and she fought to find comfort underneath her comforter. She pulled the comforter over her head and, unbidden, an image of what Jane Gardiner had possibly looked like appeared in her mind. She rather imagined Jane as elegantly pretty with a sweet smile- and uncannily, she was correct. It was here that a side of Elizabeth appeared that most people never saw. Most people merely viewed Elizabeth's passion and fiery temper; rarely did anyone, save Charlotte and her family, see Elizabeth's empathy and sensitivity. It was true that Elizabeth herself had never had her heart broken or experienced betrayal the way that she supposed Jane had; yet her empathy allowed her to feel pain at the other girl's sorrow and even brought tears into her eyes. Her heart broke for the young girl who had been so cruelly betrayed by two people she had cared so much about. Despite her deep seated prejudice against Will, Elizabeth could have forgiven him for almost anything except what he had done to Jane. She didn't have the power to forgive anyone who hurt someone else in such an extreme manner. For a moment, her thoughts flashed to Emma Woodhouse but Elizabeth stopped herself. “No, I will not think of her,” she commanded. She couldn't think of Emma without losing her control completely.
While thinking of Jane and trying not think about Emma, Elizabeth finally fell into a dreamland that brought her peace.
On the opposite end of campus, Will lay in his bed in his dorm room unable to sleep. Pictures of Elizabeth floated through his mind, disturbing his attempts at entering slumber. Elizabeth intrigued him; she had captured Will's interest- not an easy feat for a girl to accomplish. Her evident dislike for him and the passion in her eyes as she spilled her soda over his head fascinated him. It is said that the way to a man's heart is not to fawn over him, and in Will's case the statement was correct. The fact that Elizabeth didn't fawn over him like the other girls did caused him to admire her. However, one particular question plagued his mind, why exactly did she hate him so much? Will's brow furrowed in thought over that puzzle. He admitted that he had been a jerk at their first meeting and had gotten her name wrong, but her hatred was deeper than both of those mistakes. So, what had he done to inspire that degree of dislike? Moreover, how could he get her to like him?
***********************************************************
“You're not going home?” Elizabeth demanded in surprise, her attention diverted from her packing.
Charlotte twisted the ends of her shirt, a habit of hers. “Professor Brandon, you know the Biology professor, needs some help with some of his research work. So, he's letting some of his best first year students work with him. He told me yesterday at the end of my bio final that he thought this was a great opportunity for me.”
Elizabeth smiled, “Char, that's great! I knew you were one of his favorites, but you wouldn't believe me.” Her smile faded as a realization struck her. “But, Char, it's the holidays. It'd be horrible to be stuck here doing research during Thanksgiving and Christmas.”
“Oh, I'll be back in time by December fifth. I'll miss Thanksgiving, but it's not a big deal.” Charlotte shrugged. “My family doesn't do much on Thanksgiving. My mom can't cook like yours.”
Elizabeth reached over to hug her friend, impulsively. “I'm going to miss you, Char.”
Charlotte grinned, “Yeah, well, you're not if you don't finish packing soon. The shuttle to the airport leaves in, like, ten minutes.”
Elizabeth glanced down at her watch and cursed. “God, why am I such a procrastinator.” Lateness was somewhat in Elizabeth's blood. She couldn't remember the last time she had been early for anything. “Oh, stop laughing Char and help me pack.” Charlotte listened and Elizabeth was able to catch her shuttle, thus enabling her to catch her flight home to Texas.
Chapter Seven
The new year found Harvard students refreshed and ready to pursue their courses with rigor again- or as much rigor as they could possibly muster for their studies. The sixth of January brought back all of the students to campus, and once more the campus was filled with laughter and noise.
“Liz, how many layers do you have on?” Charlotte asked, hiding her laughter at the sight of her friend, although Elizabeth was close to invisible underneath all the layers she had piled on her small frame.
“I don't know. Shut up, Char.” Elizabeth commanded good- naturedly. Before Thanksgiving, the weather had been cold but nothing too unbearable. But, now after her visit back to the warmth of the Texas winter, the cold felt stingingly frigid. “I hate the cold,” she added.
“It's pretty obvious. Geez, Liz, you look like a short snowman.”
“Petite, thank you very much.” Elizabeth's height had always been somewhat of a bone of contention for her. While she was more or less reconciled to her small stature, she was by no means happy with it.
“Whatever. Liz, you know, when we were back home you used to always complain that Texas winters sucked `cause they weren't cold enough. You wanted snow and seasons. What happened to that?”
“I was stupid. Who needs snow after all?” Elizabeth retorted. But, what Charlotte had said was true. Elizabeth had wanted to go to school in a place where she could see in snow and she had wanted a colder winter. However, like most people when confronted with their wishes, she had promptly changed her opinions once she had received what she had asked for. “I should have gone to Rice like my parents wanted me to.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes in exasperation, even her patience- and Charlotte was really quite patient- was exhausted by Elizabeth's whining. To stop her friend's tirade, when Elizabeth's attention was directed somewhere else, she pelted Elizabeth with a snowball.
Elizabeth shrieked as a snowball hit her face, the one part of her body she hadn't covered. “Oh, that's how it is, huh?” She asked, her hands on her hips. “Big mistake, Char.” She picked up a ball of snow and flung it at Charlotte, but stared when her ball barely flicked the other girl. At this point, it's probably important to explain that Elizabeth's aim was far from good or even passable really.
Charlotte laughed, “Bring it on, shorty.”
Elizabeth's mouth hung open, “Shorty? Shorty!” Charlotte foresaw that her comment might have caused a vindictive attitude in her friend and began running. Elizabeth gathered a clump of snow in her hand and began chasing after Charlotte who had the advantage of a head start and longer legs.
Charlotte was laughing so hard that she was finding it increasingly difficult to run. It had been a while since she had laughed so much. Unlike Elizabeth, her Christmas hadn't been as wonderful. Her home had been filled with fighting and squabbling between her parents, and her feelings of loneliness and insecurity at home. Caught up in her laughter, and it felt positively fabulous to Charlotte that she was laughing again, she wasn't looking where she was headed. Ergo, for the second time in that academic year, a girl bumped into Will Darcy.
Charlotte blinked, her concentration slightly off by her collision, and looked at the sweater clad male's chest with which she was eye level at. With a feeling of slight dread, she looked up to see a bemused Will- who was wondering if the gods had something against him. Charlotte couldn't prevent her giggles because the humor of the situation hit her again. “I'm sorry, Will,” she said in between giggles.
“It's no big deal,” Will replied, only feeling more puzzled by the girl's laughter.
“Charlotte!” Elizabeth called out in triumph. Charlotte whirled around only to see Elizabeth standing a few feet away with a snowball in her gloved hands. She ducked just in time to avoid the incoming snowball, but Will wasn't as astute as Charlotte and her destined snowball hit him square in his face.
Charlotte and Elizabeth both looked at Will; both had been silenced by Elizabeth's mistaken aim. Charlotte ran her fingers through her dark blonde girls and wondered if she should apologize for ducking. After a few moments of silence, she decided it was only nice to do so. After all, she had begun the snowball battle.
“Will, I'm sorry,” Charlotte said meekly. To her utter surprise, and Elizabeth's for that matter, Will began laughing. He rather liked Charlotte's laughter and thought that any girl with her laugh was bound to be nice, and he wasn't going to be nasty to her. Besides, he had learnt his lesson with Elizabeth who he decided correctly was a friend to Charlotte.
“No problem, Charlotte. Hey, it's only chivalrous to take a snowball in my face for a lady's sake.” He smiled again at Charlotte before adding, “Hey, Elizabeth” and walking off.
Even if it was suspected that Will was thinking about how lovely Elizabeth looked with a blush on her cheeks about the how adorable she looked with all of those layers on, there was no way to make certain of his thoughts or confirm the suspicions. Will's thoughts remained entirely in his own confidence.
Charlotte walked towards Elizabeth, still in a state of surprise. That Will would be so nice to a girl he hadn't even met had taken her back. “That was really nice of Will, wasn't it?” Charlotte ventured, glancing at her friend's face.
“Yeah, well, at least he got my name right this time. I mean, Cara? How do you get Cara from Elizabeth?” Elizabeth grumbled, before turning back towards her residence hall.
Elizabeth had been surprised by Will's reaction. She had expected him to react angrily, like he had with her. Maybe he likes Char, she mused curiously. Elizabeth found herself recalling his laugh- she couldn't help thinking that he had a sort of pleasing laugh. Could a man with that kind of laugh be capable of something as cruel as what George Wickham had said? At the thought of Wickham and his story about Jane, Elizabeth hardened her heart again. Laughter, she supposed, could be deceiving.
“Liz, come on.” Charlotte suddenly said, breaking the silence between her and Elizabeth. She steered Elizabeth towards “their” tree, and both the girls collapsed underneath the tree. Charlotte was determined to speak her mind today, regardless of Elizabeth's prejudice.
“Liz, have you ever thought that George might have lied?” Charlotte questioned bluntly.
Elizabeth looked at her best friend as if Charlotte had sprouted two extra ears. “What? Why the hell would he lie?”
Charlotte looked at Elizabeth in the eye. “I don't know why he would lie. I know that he could be lying… or at least exaggerating, though. Why would he tell that entire story to two complete strangers? If he had just told Mary, I could understand. But to tell the whole sob story to two girls he didn't know is a little strange, don't you think?” Seeing Elizabeth remained stubborn, Charlotte sighed. “I mean, I wouldn't tell two guys I had just met about something like that. Plus, something seems wrong with Wickham. I can't explain it, okay. But, I have this feeling that something's off with him. I can't help but like Will, even if I don't really know him. It's just that my instinct tells me that Will isn't the bad guy that George says he is.”
“Will was such a jackass, when we first met though!” Elizabeth protested. Charlotte's words did make sense and she was searching now for a reason not to believe in them.
“Liz, I heard about your meeting. He was rude, but he could have been just having a bad day. And, I also heard about you pouring soda over Will. Liz, if I didn't know you and I had heard that, I would have thought you were a real jerk.” Seeing that Elizabeth looked hurt and she hadn't meant to cause her friend harm, Liz quickly added on to her statement. “I know you, Liz, and I know what a good person you are. I know why you poured soda over Will Darcy. You poured soda over him because of what you thought he did to Jane, not because he got your name wrong.”
A tear trailed down Elizabeth's cheeks, and she hastily brushed it aside. “My half cousin, Emma Woodhouse, committed suicide last year.” She whispered.
Charlotte stared at Elizabeth in dismay. “What? Why didn't you tell me?”
Elizabeth stared down at her hands. “There was no real point. I didn't know Emma. She was four years older than us, and she lived in England. I've never talked or seen her. I have no clue what she even looks like. Emma killed herself over Frank Churchill, her boyfriend. I don't know all the details. All I know is that he hurt her really badly and she couldn't take it.” Memories of the first time she had heard the news filled her mind. It didn't matter that she had never known her cousin. It didn't matter that she couldn't agree with the decision that her cousin had made. “My mother knew Emma when Emma was really little. Emma's father was my mother's half brother and they were close siblings. When Emma's mother died and her father couldn't deal with his wife's death, mama practically raised Emma. Mama took Emma's death really hard. I remember walking home from school and seeing my mother crying with her head in her hands. I remember the way mama's hands shook when she told me about Emma. Mama couldn't believe that the little baby she had cared for wasn't in the world anymore. I hated seeing mama crying. I hated knowing that I'd never have the chance to know my cousin anymore. I hate that Emma took that route and caused so much pain to everyone who loved her. And, most of all, I hate Frank Churchill for whatever he did to hurt Emma.” By the end of her words, Elizabeth's eyes were so clouded with tears that she couldn't see the ground in front of her. “You see, Jane's story kind of hits home with me. I can't think of Jane, without thinking of Emma.”
Charlotte reached over and tenderly hugged Elizabeth. “I can't believe you didn't tell me about Emma. I guess that's why you hate Will so much, huh?”
Elizabeth wiped her eyes thoughtfully. “Ever since I heard what George said, I've been fighting not to think about Emma. This is the first time that I've really allowed myself to think about her. I guess that since I couldn't really vent my anger against Frank, I concentrated it on Will.” Elizabeth turned and stared piercingly at Charlotte. “Char, you could be right about George. But, until I don't know for sure that Will didn't do anything to Jane, I can't let myself forgive him. I can't.”
With that, Elizabeth shakily stood and left for her residence hall, leaving Charlotte to ponder over her words.
The month of January past by quickly, and Harvard student found themselves immersed in their studies once more. And as the opening weeks of February waned, students became accustomed to sleep deprivation and the dark circles of exhaustion underneath their eyes. Not one student escaped at least one all night study session, and certainly not one student was immune to the feeling of overwhelmed ness that the rigor of the Harvard academics produced. And, February 14th, the date the world knows and celebrates as Valentine's Day, found Elizabeth experiencing that aforementioned feeling of overwhelmed ness. Te evening of Valentine's Day brought Elizabeth to a frantic review of Shakespeare in contrast to the thousands, if not millions, of peoples who were enjoying the night in the company of their sweethearts.
Since the beginning of the course, Elizabeth had expected to love her class in Shakespearean plays for Elizabeth positively adored Shakespeare's literature. Instead, she found the class dampened by her professor's blatant lack of interest in the course material. And, now as she slammed her copy of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare shut, she dourly pondered what had convinced her to take the class in the first place. While Elizabeth's enthusiasm for Shakespeare's work had not faded, her interest in the course had fizzled upon her realization had her professor had no passion in the subject matter. Furthermore, his knowledge of Shakespeare was elementary and many of his students, including Elizabeth, realized that they knew more of the playwright than their educator. It later became known to the class that their professor was regarded as a genius in contemporary literature, although his knowledge of Shakespeare and the classics left much to be desired by his students, and taught the class simply because the Harvard administration coerced him into doing so. But she didn't know that fact, which perhaps was better as she would have been indignant, and instead only felt exhaustion with her study of Shakespeare that Valentine's Day evening. Elizabeth's long finger traced circles around an ancient- well it was thirty years old and thus considered somewhat ancient to the eighteen year old girl- edition of her copy of the book. Ever since she had first learned to appreciate Shakespearean plays, she had adored Much Ado About Nothing above all his other works. Something in that particular play spoke to her and she found herself continually attached to the story; yet, as she felt on that night, often the play caused an odd ache in her heart. Despite her way with words and her obvious talent in writing, Elizabeth could not describe the ache in heart that she sometimes felt upon rereading the play. She lay her head on the heavy book, letting her loose curls fan over the collection. Her finger absentmindedly continued its tracing of circles, but her mind was in a reflective mood that evening. One of the main characters of Much Ado About Nothing, Hero, had been falsely slandered and then humiliated by the man she loved; yet, she had still retained her strength of character and finally triumphed over the false slanders against her morality. Hero, despite having every reason to, had not given up nor had she killed herself. Emma, whose precise reasons for suicide were not known to her, had determined suicide to be her only escape. What had caused her to decide so? For that matter, what had driven Jane to choose suicide as her resort?
Elizabeth sighed; for her part, she didn't comprehend how Jane and Emma could have taken such a drastic step. The futility of their actions disturbed her the most. Did neither of them believe that life would never become better? Did they honestly not foresee any other option? While she could not claim that she had never thought of suicide, Elizabeth blanched at actually committing such a final step. Never in her dreams would she even consider causing her loved ones so much pain. And, while she felt pain for the untimely deaths of Emma and Jane, she in no way condoned their hasty actions. Moreover, despite her anger at Frank Churchill and William Darcy for hurting both girls and leading them to the steps the girls had taken, she understood that neither of the boys had intended for the girls to end their lives. She knew, inside her mind, that, ultimately, only the girls were responsible for their actions. Emma and Jane had ended their lives, and it had been their mistake. But, often, the heart doesn't obey the rational mind. So, the irrationality of her heart that was influenced by her emotions and memories, led to the continued existence of anger within Elizabeth for Frank and Will.
Elizabeth picked her head up determinedly and tossed her hair. If she thought about Emma and Jane any longer or studied Shakespeare any more, she firmly believed she would go crazy. A wistful smile that revealed her inner vulnerability suddenly crossed her pretty face. Even if she didn't have a Prince Charming to celebrate with, she suddenly felt an urge to go out and enjoy herself. As she hadn't been to a party since the disaster at the November party, she decided to make a belated appearance at a party on the opposite end of campus. Running her fingers through her hair, a habit of hers that had rubbed off on Charlotte, Elizabeth realized that she desperately needed the relief that a party would provide. She had been straining herself with her academics and she needed a break.
Chapter Nine
College parties are rumored to be sources of harmless fun. But, as Elizabeth forced a smile at an incoming William Collins, she couldn't help thinking that those great parties must have had the pleasure of not including the presence of any slimy men. If a man could in any way resemble a toad, Elizabeth decided that the man would have to be William Collins. Merely twenty minutes ago, she had been blissfully unaware of the existence of any toad- like Harvard student. Then, her world had been invaded by this annoying creature who insisted on following her and pestering her with inconsequential facts concerning himself. In vain, she had attempted to save herself from him. She had darted in between people at the party, hid behind some girls smoking something that smelled vile, and done several other things that caused some eyebrows to lift in surprise. But, her attempts were fruitless and Will Collins continued to pursue her. In the short span of five minutes, with his alcohol tainted breath hitting her face and causing her to feel ill, he managed to tell Elizabeth what seemed like his entire life story. She'd found out that he was a theology major, a freshman, and seemed to take great pride in announcing his single status.
“Elizabeth, there you are!” Will Collins exclaimed, and wiped his sweaty forehead with his hand. “I brought you that soda you asked for, but then I couldn't seem to find you anywhere… Ah, well, so where was in my story? Oh, then when I was five, I had the greatest fortune of meeting a Mrs. Fanny Dashwood! I revel in my good luck. What a wonderful woman- so brilliant, so elegant, so refined.”
Elizabeth stared at the soda still in this Collins' hand. If he had brought it for her, why didn't he give it to her? But, then, as she realized that she had no idea of where his hands had been, she decided she didn't desire to even touch the bottle. Ignoring the words streaming from his mouth, Elizabeth glanced desperately around the party for some respite from this merciless tirade.
Elizabeth sighed, somehow she felt very exhausted suddenly. She didn't feel like being at a noisy fraternity house anymore; the party had failed to bring her any relief. On any other day, she could have tolerated Will Collins' nonsense; but, she was exhausted and strained by her strenuous workload. And, after being at the party and pestered by him, she desired nothing but the comforts of her bed.
“Will,” she interrupted, cutting short a story about his beloved Mrs. Dashwood, “I have to leave. I'm sorry. I'll see you around. Bye.” Elizabeth was aware of her rudeness, and she honestly regretted it for she recognized that Collins wasn't a bad man- just annoying and excessively silly.
“But, but,” Will Collins spluttered as he watched her retreating figure. Most men would have taken her hint, but Will Collins' lack of common sense and his arrogance combined to prevent him from seeing that his attentions were unwelcome to Elizabeth. Thus, he followed Elizabeth outside and walked after her.
“Elizabeth, wait!” He called, his hand still clutching the soda he had forgotten to give her. Elizabeth paused and cursed the niceness that stopped her from ignoring him.
“Will, please, I'm really tired. I'd really like to be alone.” Elizabeth said wearily, attempting to keep civility in her tone. For those who are confused as to why Elizabeth didn't merely display the feistiness that so characterized her, it is best to explain that her feistiness was tempered by her pity at that moment. Due to his annoying traits and unhygienic qualities and silliness, Collins was somewhat ostracized by his peers and Elizabeth pitied him for that. Although, she did have to admit that his situation would be greatly aided if he showered once in a while. Ergo, because of her pity, she didn't wish to cause him pain and she feared that her feistiness would do just that.
Unfortunately, her tact and subtlety went unnoticed by Will Collins. “Of course, I'll walk you to your room.” Elizabeth groaned inwardly.
Meanwhile, Will Darcy watched the scene, which was proceeding before him, with interest and even amusement. Unlike Elizabeth who was illuminated by the lamp post next to her, he was shielded from sight due to the protection offered by the large tree he was standing under. And. unlike Collins, he realized Elizabeth's aversion to the idea of Collins' company- something Will fully did understand. He surveyed Elizabeth for a second; she looked tired, and he didn't envy her the trouble of dealing with a dense Collins. A wave of his natural chivalry washed over him and he decided he really ought to help her.
“Hey, William. Hey, Liz.” Will greeted, flashing an easy smile at both Collins and Elizabeth. He whispered something in Collins' ear, and then fought back a snort as he watched Collins dart back inside the party.
Elizabeth watched somewhat stunned at the sight before her eyes. “How'd you do that? I've been trying to get rid of him all night!”
Will was surprised by her tone. He hadn't expected her to be friendly towards him. He was determined not to let his surprise be displayed, though. “Oh, I just told him that Anne Elliot was looking for him.”
While Elizabeth didn't know the older girl, she instantly sympathized. “Poor Anne,” she said.
“Oh, I wouldn't worry about her,” Will answered, grinning mischeviously. “She's not at the party. She's with Frederick Wentworth.” Elizabeth looked at Will and giggled. Will savored the sound of her laughter, which sounded like music to his ears. “Can I walk you to your dorm?” He asked gently, not sure of her reaction.
Elizabeth glanced up at Will, deciding she owed him. She felt a bit confused by his behavior. She had a hell of an easier time hating him when he was behaving arrogantly towards her, but it was hard to dislike him when he was being so completely sweet. “Yes,” she murmured so softly that Will had to strain to hear her answer.
For a few moments, they walked in an uncomfortable silence for neither knew how to act in the others' presence. “How come you didn't get a soda and pour it over his head,” he asked impishly, breaking the silence. He was rewarded by the sound of Elizabeth's laughter.
“I should have done that. Do all guys with the name `William' have it in for me or something?” When he didn't reply, Elizabeth looked at him and wondered if she had somehow offended him.
“My name isn't exactly William,” Will replied, feeling somewhat uncomfortable.
“Excuse me?” Elizabeth questioned, thinking she had heard something incorrectly.
“My nickname really is Will, and most people just assume that my whole name is William. I just don't bother correcting them `cause I don't really like my full name.”
“Oh. What is your real name?” Will blushed, and she quickly added, “You don't have to tell, if you don't want to.” Elizabeth vaguely felt as though she was in a surreal dream state. Was she really having this discussion with Will Darcy, the same man she hated? But, as she thought back to his chivalrous behavior towards her in the past ten minutes, she was having a rather hard time reconciling Wickham's description of Will with this Will. Then, she remembered Will's nice behavior on the day of her snowball fight with Charlotte and Charlotte's words on that day. Had Wickham been lying like Charlotte had said? She groaned inwardly, why were men this complicated and confusing?
Will interrupted her thoughts with the answer to her question. “If I tell you my name, you have to promise not to laugh. My full name is kind of weird.”
“I promise.” Elizabeth vowed solemnly, with a starry twinkle in her eyes.
“Okay, it's… Fitzwilliam- Will, for short.” Will admitted, very few people knew his full name. “I know, my mother was a little old fashioned.”
Elizabeth smiled. “I don't think your name's that bad. At least, you can shorten it.”
The two quieted and walked along, in a more companionable silence that Will again broke with another question. “Liz,” he began talking her arm and turning her to face him, “why don't you like me? What did I do that was that horrible?”
Elizabeth was having a hard time answering when Will was looking at her like that. “Well, you bumped into me and acted like a jackass. Then, I met George Wickham and he told me that-
Will clenched his teeth. “George Wickham?” He asked, feeling rage. So, Wickham was again the root of his problems. Why hadn't he seen that before?
“Yes,” Elizabeth answered falteringly, the look of anger in Will's eyes was frightening her.
“Let me guess, he told you that I was popular and that I made his life hell in high school.” Elizabeth nodded in affirmation, and Will laughed mirthlessly.
Elizabeth wrenched her arm away from his grasp and glared at him. “I can't believe that you're laughing at the fact that you tortured the poor guy!”
“And, I can't believe you fell for that shit!” Will retorted. “I thought you were smarter than that.”
“What?” Elizabeth asked, puzzled. “What are you talking about?”
“I was popular in high school, but so was he. He was the star of the basketball team, and he didn't have to worry about popularity. I never made his life a “living hell” as he probably put it. But, he was right about one thing, we do hate each other and I would have loved to make his life hell.” Elizabeth started at the vehemence in Will's voice. Things were getting complicated, and Elizabeth hadn't even heard the complete story yet.
“Why? If you didn't make his life horrible, then why does he hate you? Why do you hate him?”
Will grasped Elizabeth's arm again and looked down into her eyes. “I hate George Wickham because of the way he treated my little sister, Georgiana.” There was no mistaking the sincerity in his voice, and even Elizabeth had to acknowledge that. “Look, Liz, this is a long story and we should sit down.” He sat down underneath a large tree nearby- a tree that, had Elizabeth been more aware of her surroundings, she would have recognized as “her” tree- and Elizabeth silently followed his example. “My sister was born blind,” he said quietly and Elizabeth gasped. Of all the things she had expected Will to hear, she hadn't expected him to say that. “Georgiana hasn't had an easy time in life. She's very sensitive, and I've always been protective of her. When I was five and Anna was one, our parents were in a car accident that they never survived. We moved in with my aunt and uncle, who right next to the Wickham family. At first things were okay. But, when Wickham and I were nine, he started making fun of Anna for being blind. He'd make fun of her and then remind her of all the things she couldn't do. Even as we grew older, he didn't stop. Instead, his comments became even harsher and crueler.” Will's fists clenched, remembering the memories. His sister was very dear to him and he loved her. “I could see how much his words hurt her. I'd hear her crying in her room and I hated him. I tried to make him; God knows I beat him up enough times. He never did, though. It was like he derived some sadistic pleasure from hurting Anna. And, just so you know, he kept on insulting her straight through high school.”
Elizabeth's mind spun with all that she had recently learned. Believing Will wasn't a question; she had to believe him. No one could make something up like that about his sister. She was firmly convinced of that. And, as far as Wickham was concerned, what type of man would make fun of a girl for being blind? She didn't blame Will for his anger. It was a good thing Wickham was not in front of Elizabeth for there was no telling what her actions towards him would have been after hearing the truth. “Will, can I ask you something?” She whispered. Now, she had to know the truth about Jane. What had truly happened between them? What was the truth and was fictional? Not waiting for his answer, she continued, “What about Jane?” Hesitantly, she told him of what Wickham had told her.
Will heard what Wickham had told Elizabeth and gradually began comprehending why Elizabeth had despised him. Hell, had he not known the truth and he wasn't the one accused, he would have hated himself. But, as he did know the truth, the story's implausibility struck him with hilarity. He attempted to stifle his laughter but failed.
To Elizabeth's utter surprise, Will began laughing. Furious, she snapped at him. “What's so funny?”
Will looked at Elizabeth and smiled. “For one thing, Jane isn't dead, thank God for that.”
For Elizabeth, the world seemed to be spinning on its axis. “What,” she questioned faintly.
“Well, it'd be kind of hard to go to Yale, if you were dead. Wouldn't you agree?” Seeing Elizabeth remained silent, Will cut short his sarcasm and explained instead. “I met Jane right after I came to live with my aunt and uncle. Jane is the daughter of one of my uncle's good friends, so I've been around her since childhood. She's one of my closest friends, even though she does go to Yale, and definitely the best person that I know. I've never heard her say anything cruel or hurtful to anyone, and I can't think of a better compliment. But, we've never felt any romantic interest in one another. We're only good friends, and I would never do anything to hurt her.”
Elizabeth listened to what Will was saying with a growing sense of anger that was directed towards herself. Whatever her flaws were, she could not be blamed for self mitigation. She was often her own worst critic, and at that moment she was heavily criticizing herself. Her short sightedness had blinded her from seeing the truth. Her prejudice had prevented from recognizing the true respective characters of George and Will. She was ashamed of her behavior and stupidity. “How could I have been so stupid?” She burst out, furious with herself.
“Liz, please don't blame yourself.” Will was cut off by Elizabeth.
“Will, I do blame myself. Charlotte warned me that George wasn't what he seemed, but I didn't listen to her. I was so caught up,” her voice caught in her throat and to her dismay a tear welled in her eye. Those people who do not sympathize with Elizabeth must understand that she had viewed George as a friend, and his betrayal stung her deeply. In addition, she had prided herself on being able to recognize people clearly, yet she had been so mistaken. It is never pleasant to be faced with the realization that you were completely incorrect about something you had previously believed, and now Elizabeth was experiencing that humiliation.
Will had seen the sparkle of a tear in her eyes and felt alarmed. Like most men, he felt out of control and panicky at the sight of a woman's tears. “Elizabeth, listen to me, it could have happened to anyone,” he said firmly, attempting to soothe her a little.
“Will, I understand that you're trying to make me feel better and I appreciate that. But, right now, I think I need to think. I'm really sorry about my behavior to you. I shouldn't have been so quick to believe George. Please, I really am sorry. You're a nice guy and didn't deserve my crap.” Elizabeth turned her piercing gaze towards Will, and then rushed off leaving Will alone with his thoughts.
As Elizabeth darted towards her residence hall, she continued to berate herself for judging matters so quickly. She had been wrong, horribly wrong. And, what of Will? She had been rude to him. She had poured soda over him and humiliated him. Her behavior made her recoil with embarrassment. Despite his words, she believed that his respect for her must have diminished and that bothered her.
However, as she reached her residence hall, she stopped short and paused in front of the building. Worry seeped into her bones. Several campus police cars were stationed in front of the building, and she could make out the outlines of police men (or women) inside the lobby. What if something horrible had happened to one of the girls inside the hall? Charlotte was inside her dorm room! The thought filled her with panic. Charlotte had told her that she couldn't go to the party because of a major biochemistry exam. Numerous what ifs floated throughout her mind causing her to feel like she couldn't breathe. Ignoring the sting of the cold weather, Elizabeth felt that she didn't dare enter the hall lest she find out something had happened to Charlotte. But, finally, she gathered up her courage and stepped tremblingly inside the building.