First Impressions: A Modern Pride and Prejudice Adaptation

Chapter 26

It was not a dream. She had never been able to fool herself that completely. She knew fact from fiction, reality from imagination.

Besides, her imagination had never been that strong.

Though Charlotte's was...

Fitzwilliam Darcy, in love with her.

Liz would have lain there glaring at the ceiling for hours, reliving every lie, every indignity, every insult, he had thrown her way had she not remembered that she and Mariah were leaving in a few hours. It took a particularly herculean effort to drag herself out from beneath the covers and dress for running; if she was going to be trapped in a car for eight hours, the least she could do for her body was stretch her legs out beforehand.

When she crawled out of bed, she felt... unsteady. It wasn't like the ground was shifting beneath her, because the ground wasn't what had changed. Even after almost nine hours of sleep, she still felt the drain from her tears and the energy she spent on her anger. She could feel a headache beginning to bloom behind her left ear. It pulsed, small and hard like a knot of muscle, but she knew it would only grow bigger throughout the day; painkillers would do nothing for it. Though she experienced these pains sporadically, they were acute enough to be particularly memorable.

The best cure, or at least alleviation, was fresh air.

Another good reason to get outside.

She sighed and picked through the crisp folds of her clothing for a t-shirt and leggings. Leaving her hair loose, she pushed it back with a thick cloth headband that covered her ears and slipped on her glasses to keep her eyes from straining through her contacts. The hardest part was opening the bedroom door.

She paused with her hand on the knob for almost a minute, listening intently for any sound out in the rest of the house. Through the closed door, she could hear just a hint of panic and a great shuffling sound along with muffled voices. She smiled slightly at the familiar noises: frantic packing before leaving. It was easy to recognize, both from home and from the college dormitories.

She pushed the door open a few inches. All the noise seemed to be centered behind Charlotte's bedroom door; the rest of the apartment was silence. Half holding her breath, she crept out of her room and into the hallway. She didn't like to think of it as avoiding Charlotte; she preferred to focus on the conversation she was avoiding.

When Charlotte and Mariah returned home the previous night she had been too ill at ease to even crack the door of her room. Keeping it firmly closed, she pretended to be sleeping when Charlotte knocked. The thought of deflecting her friend's interest was already exhausting. She sighed and zipped her jacket up to her neck, waiting to put on her shoes until she eased the front door closed behind her and stood out in the hallway.

You're being silly, she told herself sternly as she walked quickly down the hall. Charlotte couldn't know anything. There were no pointed questions for her to ask. She had no doubts that Darcy had been silent when he returned to his aunt's apartment—if he even went back while the guests were there. Liz would not have put it past him to skulk somewhere in hiding until he could sneak back in without being noticed.

Thinking the name "Darcy," Liz pursed her lips and rolled her eyes, already more annoyed than angry with the memory. His audacity was almost laughable. How could he have never noticed her open and pointed dislike? He was delusional, clearly. There was far too much stacked against him, too much of his own action for her to think of his speech without wanting to laugh.

Or cry.

She stopped when she just by the outside door, hesitating with her hands on the handle as she peered outside. It was snowing steadily, but not hard. The ground was covered in a heavier layer than it had been the last time she left the building. It looked like it had been falling for hours at least, if not all night. She deliberated for a moment, running one finger against the freezing cold glass of the door.