My Own Mr. Darcy (9 page)

Hey, I know we have plans
for Saturday, but I’m craving Mexican. Want to go to dinner tomorrow?

I read the text to
Janessa. “What should I do?”

“Go to dinner.”

“But Mr. Dawson, I mean
Matt invited me to lunch again.”

“So you’re skipping dinner?”
Now Janessa was just being difficult.

“Of course not. I mean,
I’m seeing him tomorrow. What if he wants to do something in the evening, too?

“Did he mention doing
something in the evening?”

“No.”

“Then you have no plans.
Besides, if he asks you out for tomorrow night, it will be good for him to know
you’re in demand. And don’t forget, you’ve still got eight dates left with
Chad. Go to dinner and you get to knock off another one.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever
been so full in my life,” Chad said. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his
stomach.

“I know. I might be sick.”

It was happy hour at Por
Que No and between us, we’d just consumed a huge bowl of chips, salsa, and
guacamole, four virgin margaritas, and eleven tacos.

“Do you want any flan?”
Chad asked.

“I don’t know where I’d
put it.”

What happened next wasn’t
supposed to happen. Ever. And I didn’t mean for it to happen this time. I just
didn’t see it coming until it was too late.

“Have you seen any good
movies lately?” Chad asked.

“I haven’t gone to a movie
in ages, but I watched part of
Pride and Prejudice
last night.”

“What is it about that
movie? My mom and sister like it, too.”

“Probably because it’s one
of the best movies ever made.”

“You really think so?”

“I love it.”

“Allison—that’s my sister—she
says the best way to impress a girl is to watch
Pride and Prejudice
with
her.”

Uh oh. I tried to hide my
qualms with a laugh that sounded artificial to my ears. Long ago I’d decided
my
Pride and Prejudice was a hallowed movie—only to be shared with a chosen
few. I knew it would be difficult, if not impossible, to hide my feelings about
the movie. And about Mr. Darcy. How could I betray Mr. Darcy by watching him
bare his soul while I sat beside another man?

“Let’s watch it.”

“I don’t know. You
probably wouldn’t like it,” I said. “There’s no action. It’s all dialogue.”

“Should I be offended that
you think I couldn’t handle a movie with dialogue?” Chad was teasing me and I
should have teased back but I was too busy panicking.

“It’s not that I think you
couldn’t handle it. I just don’t think you’d really like it. We could watch
something else.
Mission Impossible
?
Transformers
?” Please.
Anything but
Pride and Prejudice
.

“I’m afraid you’re only
making me more curious to see what all the fuss is about. There’s a video store
close to my house. Let’s go get it.”

I made other suggestions
at the video store but in the end, we walked out with
Pride and Prejudice
and Chad’s thumb was covering Matthew Macfadyen’s face.

Chad’s house was a small bungalow on a street of small
bungalows. He told me he’d bought it as a foreclosure the previous year and he
was fixing it up a little at a time. It was clean and sparsely furnished.

“Please don’t judge me by
my decorating. I’m not a trained interior designer,” Chad said.

“The décor suits you
perfectly,” I said. “I’d call this eclectic old bachelor.” A dilapidated couch
and a comfy recliner faced the big-screen television that hung on the wall
above the brick fireplace.

“I may be a bachelor but
twenty-five is a little young to be called an old bachelor.”

“Fine. We’ll call it eclectic
young bachelor.”

“I feel much better. You
take the chair. This couch has seen better days. It came from my Grandma’s
house and I think she bought it when my dad was a kid.”

Chad offered me milk,
water, or PowerAde, the only drinks he had in the house. I chose water. He put
in the movie and sat down on the side of the couch closest to my chair. A few
clicks with the remote and the menu appeared on the screen with the familiar lilting
piano music and Keira Knightly standing on the rocks of the Peak District, her
coat and hair blowing in the wind. He pushed a button and the movie started.

At first I felt self-conscious.
I reminded myself that to Chad, this was just a movie. But it felt like my
deepest hopes and dreams were parading across the television screen for Chad to
look over and analyze. He’d think I was irrational and crazy. He’d probably
laugh at me and my silly dream.

“So what do you recommend,
to encourage affection,” Mr. Darcy spoke from the television.

“Dancing, even if one’s
partner is barely tolerable,” Elizabeth replied.

“Good one,” Chad said.

I glanced at the small
version of Chad’s crooked smile. Something inside me warmed. Chad had recognized
how perfect Elizabeth’s retort was. I started to relax and enjoy myself.

I stole occasional looks
at Chad throughout the movie, expecting to see boredom etched on his face, but
if he was bored, he was hiding it well. Twice, Chad looked at me and smiled. I
didn’t feel nearly as ill at ease as I’d expected I would.

“That was good,” Chad said
as he drove me home. “I can tell you really like it.”

“It’s been my favorite
movie since I was sixteen.”

“What do you like best
about it?”

That question was loaded.
Did I really want to tell him? Of course I didn’t. But maybe if I did, he’d
realize I was a waste of his time and he’d move on. Chad was a really nice guy
and didn’t deserve to put any hopes into a girl who could only be happy with
Mr. Darcy. Two lunches with Matt had me feeling insanely hopeful. If Chad
didn’t ask me out again, I wouldn’t end up hurting him when things worked out
with Matt.

“My favorite thing about
the movie is Mr. Darcy. I think he’s close to perfect.”

“Really? Even though he’s
so mean to her?”

“He’s only mean because of
their cultural differences. And when he knows he loves her, he’s willing to set
all that aside and do anything for her. I think he’s misunderstood in the
beginning.”

Chad parked outside my
apartment and turned to face me.

“How is he misunderstood?”

“He’s lost both his
parents. He feels responsible for his sister and the family estate. And he’s in
love with a girl who he thinks can’t fit into his life. And then, even when he
thinks he has no chance of winning her, he still tries to help her. That shows
his true feelings.”

Chad looked at me for a
long moment. “That’s true,” he finally said. “He’s probably a better guy than
he seems at first.”

Why was I suddenly choked
up? Was it that Chad understood my movie or was it because his eyes were soft
and kind? I held my hands tightly in my lap as an unfamiliar feeling clutched
my stomach.

Chad put his hand over my
clasped ones. I looked at his hand resting on mine. It felt safe and sincere
and warm and pleasant. I resisted the urge to turn my hand over and hold his.
And then his hand was gone and I wanted it back.

“You look great,” Chad said as we walked to his car. I’d
collaborated with Janessa about what an adult should wear to a high school
Sadie Hawkins dance. We’d settled on her gray dress with tiny white flowers, my
red tights and black pointy-toed shoes.

“Thanks. I wasn’t sure
what a chaperone should wear,” I said.

“That’s perfect.”

“What exactly do
chaperones do?” I asked Chad at The Boot, an Italian restaurant with the best
mushroom and sausage rigatoni I’d ever tasted.

“The first half, my
assignment is to patrol the dance floor and make sure no one is doing any dirty
dancing. The second half we’ll be patrolling the rest of the building—making
sure no one is sneaking into the bathrooms or under the bleachers.”

“I hope they pay you for
this.”

“Enough to buy this
dinner,” Chad said.

“You’re going to take on
this awful job and spend the money on dinner? You should have bought something
for yourself with the money,” I said.

“What makes you think this
isn’t for me? I’m happy to have dinner with you and I’m glad you’re going to
keep me company tonight.” I tried not to smile. “Don’t worry. I’m spending the
money exactly where I want to.”

We arrived at the dance
before it started. Bright lights lit the room and a DJ in a Trailblazers ball
cap checked the sound system. Giant autumn leaves made from construction paper
hung from the ceiling. Chad introduced me to a couple of teachers who were
setting up the refreshment tables. I helped arrange yellow and orange sugar
cookies and cupcakes on the table while Chad talked to the DJ.

Before long, someone
turned down the lights. The construction paper leaves looked almost pretty in
the subdued light. Students began to arrive and soon the gymnasium was full of
loud couples and louder music. I could tell it was a girls’ choice by the eager
expressions on the girls’ faces and the indifferent swagger of most of the boys.
Why was it so hard for some of these girls to see that their date wasn’t as
attentive as he should be? They say love is blind but perhaps high school
crushes are even blinder.

“See the couple over
there?” Chad nodded toward the corner where a boy and girl were already wrapped
around each other and kissing. And it wasn’t even a slow song. “I’m going to
take a little stroll. You can wait here or come with me.”

“I’ll watch from here this
time,” I said.

“Chicken.” Chad smiled and
started dancing toward the corner. Terrible, arm-flinging, leg-kicking dancing.
His moves had nothing to do with the beat of the song. He twitched and wiggled
as he spoke to them and soon they were laughing and dancing separately. Chad
danced a little longer beside them as they exchanged a few more words and then he
shimmied back across the dance floor.

I laughed as he moonwalked
the last ten feet toward me.

“You’d better not be
laughing at me,” Chad said.

“You are a terrible
dancer,” I said.