Chapter 4 #2
I’d meant to write that differently. I’d tried to write, “I want to please Darcy and my parents, so I don’t want to quit,” but, apparently that wasn’t true.
I did want to quit. I just didn’t want to face the judgement that would come with telling them that.
I sighed heavily. Finding out truths about myself was tiring.
Mrs. Bennet bustled out of the kitchen with a tray of donuts in hand. “Charles, dear, how did you enjoy your cinnamon roll?”
“It was even better than I expected,” I said.
She beamed. “Dinner is at 5:00, we look forward to seeing you.”
“I’m looking forward to it as well.”
I finished my cinnamon roll, but tucked my notebook away.
The truths I’d gleaned had already given me enough to think about; I didn’t have the capacity to face any more.
I left a generous tip on the table and waved goodbye to Lizzy, who was still in conversation with her best friend.
She waved back, smiling in a way that made me believe she’d forgiven me.
I stepped outside. The air was cold, and something about the smell of it made me think it was likely to snow later. I took a deep, cleansing breath. I was in love with Jane. I felt like I could run a thousand miles or swim the entire ocean. I felt like I could fly.
I had to tell someone. I wanted to tell Jane, but a small, wise part of me warned that she might not be ready for that confession yet. In leaving, I’d unintentionally hurt her, and I’d have to make that right.
I stuffed my ungloved hands deep into my velvet-lined pockets and reached for my phone to text my sister. She always knew what to do.
My heart shuddered. I couldn’t text Louisa. She was in prison. I closed my eyes for one heartbeat. Two. Then I messaged my other sister, Caroline.
Hey, Carl
What’s up?
I’m back at Netherfield and could use some help
Decor?
Jane Bennet
I took a deep breath, willing myself to be brave. There would be obstacles to pursuing Jane. Caroline might well be one of those obstacles. But Jane was worth it, so I gathered my resolve and typed.
Turns out I’m in love with her
But I have no idea how to proceed
I watched the ellipses stop and start for two whole minutes before her text came through. I’d expected a long lecture, but I supposed her text was even better.
I’ll be there this afternoon
You’re a lifesaver
I know
That was a positive step forward. Once I convinced Caroline that Jane was the right woman for me, she’d help me know how to win Jane back.
I took a walk around Regency Meadows Park, breathing in the crisp winter air. Trees that ought to have been bare were instead covered in bright pink hearts that swayed in the wind.
My thoughts wound in tight circles. What did Jane need?
The obvious answer was that she needed someone to clear her of suspicion in this murder.
I would do that. But what else? I wanted to become the person she needed me to be.
I huffed out a breath, watching the condensation from my breath slowly dissipate.
I thought back to the other night. She’d just come from volleyball practice. That was it—I should join the intramural volleyball team. Jane deserved a boyfriend who shared her interests.
I turned from the path and headed to the rec center.
As I approached, I saw someone struggling to lift a cart up the front steps.
I hurried forward to offer assistance and saw that it was Terence, the goth veterinarian from the shelter.
He grunted as he lifted the cart up the first step, and I lunged forward, grabbing the other side.
Together, we managed to get the cart up the steps without any mishaps.
“Thanks,” Terence said when we reached the top. “I’m just returning this cart to the rec center with a new coffeemaker." His expression darkened. “Who knows how long the police will keep the old one for evidence? And even if they do return it, I wouldn’t feel right about it being used again.”
“I understand,” I said. “I would have done the same.”
Once we got the cart through the door, Terence pushed it into the little kitchen area.
“Oh, hey Terence,” a girl said. Her dark hair was braided back in two long strands, and she looked strong enough to beat me in a wrestling match. “I saw a mouse run through here just now,” she said. “Do you have anything to help with that?”
“Of course,” Terence said. “I can bring it over later.” I straightened. It sounded like he had a ready supply of rat poison.
“Thanks,” the girl said before turning to me. “I’m Eun-seo.”
“Charles Bingley. Do you know where I might sign up for intramural volleyball?”
“Yeah. Bill, the director, is at the front desk. He’ll be happy to sign you up, we’re always looking for more players. I play libero on Bill’s team.”
“That’s awesome,” I said, and walked toward the front desk.
I hadn’t wanted to reveal my ignorance about volleyball, but I had no idea what she’d been talking about.
I quickly searched the word libero on my phone and read about how the libero was a defensive specialist and that they wore a different colored jersey from the rest of the team.
Once I felt like I had an adequate understanding of the word, I added it to my vocabulary notebook and approached the front desk.
The man sitting there was young, about my age, and held a phone to one ear while popping sunflower seeds into his mouth.
His desk was a mess of loose papers, shiny trinkets, and more pens than any one person should need.
He acknowledged me with a quick nod and the harsh fluorescent lighting cast a bluish tint on his black hair.
I waited while he spoke into the phone, his tone that of someone whose patience was hanging by a thread. “I understand that Schatzie is difficult to control, but if he gets out into the woods again, we’re going to have a problem.”
He hung up the phone without saying goodbye and turned to me. “Sorry about that,” he said, wiping salt from the corner of his mouth. “How can I help you?”
“I’m wondering if you have any openings for intramural volleyball. Preferably on Jane Bennet’s team.”
His dark eyes took in my taller-than-average height and moderately fit build. “Coincidentally, I play on that team too and we could use another player. I’m Bill Black,” he said, reaching out his hand to me.
I shook it. “Charles Bingley.”
“Have you played much volleyball, Bingley?”
“Not in a league, but I’ve played lots of times.” Thank goodness Lydia’s truth potion had worn off. In actuality, I’d only joined in the occasional pick-up game at a party or played casually at the beach with friends.
“Great. We practice on Thursday nights and games are normally on Saturdays. I’ll text you the schedule.”
“Thanks.”
We exchanged numbers, and I couldn’t help but leave with a spring in my step. I was already on my way to being the guy Jane needed.