"What's this?" I asked.

Darcy just brushed it away. "Nothing, it's nothing."

Yes, it was nothing to him. But it was everything to Jane.

"Oh!" Fitz glanced at his watch. "I must make my way to the Headmaster's House. Lizzie, a pleasure." He shook my hand. "Cousin" -- he turned to Darcy -- "don't be an imbecile. Good families are dime-a-dozen, but a good woman is rare."

We watched him cross the quad toward Pemberley.

"I like him," I stated. Anybody who could give Darcy such a ribbing was all right in my book. I turned to head toward my dorm and was surprised when Darcy followed. "Is there something I can help you with?" I asked.

Darcy shook his head. "No, I just thought I'd walk you the rest of the way."

"Again, your concern for my well-being is so touching."

He replied with silence.

"So, how's Charles?"

He paused for a moment. "Charles is fine. He's been really busy."

"So I hear." I balled my fists up tightly. I even bit my tongue. Seeing Darcy on a regular basis was wearing my patience thin. And knowing that he was the cause of Jane's unhappiness made it almost unbearable.

"I work on Monday, Tuesday, and Friday nights, as well as Sunday afternoons," I said.

He stared at me.

I continued. "We seem to be running into each other a lot lately, and I thought you'd like to know my hours. So you can avoid them, of course."

He nodded abruptly, then turned away. I didn't expect to see him in the cafe again.

18.

ONCE AGAIN, I WAS WRONG. INSTEAD OF AVOIDING ME, DARCY as there at every shift. Sometimes he would leave when I was done and walk me back. I found it easier to not fight it. It was a short walk, and most of the time he would mercifully walk with me in silence. If we talked, it was generally small talk about classes.

"So where's your boyfriend?" Tara asked me one night.

"Who? Wick? He's not my boyfriend." As if I needed to be reminded.

"You know that's not who I'm talking about."

"Darcy?" I scoffed. "Please, he's more like a ..."

"Stalker?"

I shook my head. "I believe stalkers have to generally care about their prey."

"Your bodyguard?"

"That would be ironic since he's the person I need protection from."

"Huh." Tara started to wipe down a counter.

"What?" I pried.

"You know what I find ironic?"

"No, but I have a feeling you're going to tell me."

She looked up at me. "That you complain about him, yet you always look when the door opens toward closing time, like you're waiting for him."

"No I don't."

I had to think about it. Did I?

"So why do you let him?" she asked.

"Well, he wears shoes and a shirt, so I can't really deny him service."

"You know that's not what I mean. Why do you let him walk you home?"

"I don't know. At first, I didn't want to put up a fight. I didn't think it would become a habit. But nobody really tries anything with me when he's around, and that's nice. I guess I've just gotten used to it."

The truth was: I could be myself on our walks. I didn't have to talk if I didn't want to. It wasn't like I had to pretend that everything in my life was great (like I have to with my parents). Or be on alert (like with the rest of my class). Or try to be supportive and upbeat (like with Jane).

With Darcy, I found that I could be me.

Occasionally, we'd talk about life back home. He'd ask me about my family or what I did over the weekend. But most of the time we walked in silence and it wasn't awkward. We had our own separate moments that we seemed to share in silence. It was natural, it wasn't forced, it was our own little routine.

Then, with two weeks until spring break, he broke the routine. Instead of letting me go off into my dorm without a good-bye of any sort, he took the moment of my departure to ask, "Can I speak to you?"

I shrugged. He'd had an opportunity to speak to me for the previous fifteen minutes, so I didn't see why now was any better a time. But he had a nervous look on his face, so curiosity got the best of me.

"Lizzie, Elizabeth ... I don't think I can keep this up any longer. I like you. I like you a lot."

I was so astonished, I couldn't speak.

He continued. "I find myself thinking about you constantly -- against my better judgment, I might add. I keep trying to reason with myself about why I'm so drawn to you. As much as I try, I can't seem to talk myself out of it. You're like no one else I've known ... and that has nothing to do with your upbringing. I mean, it's good and bad, I guess. Anyway, I would like to take you to prom."

My initial instinct was to be polite, like with Colin. But I was so offended and aggravated at his proposal that I was filled with nothing but resentment.

"Despite what you might think of my upbringing," I began, trying to control the anger in my voice, "I was raised to be polite. I know I should thank you for your offer, but I won't. The very last thing I want in this world is for you to think anything of me, and there is no way I would ever go to prom with you."

Darcy struggled to retain his composure. "Are you serious? How could you say such a thing to me?"

"How could I say such things?" My voice was slowly rising. "How could you even for a second think I would be thrilled to hear that you like me against your better judgment ... that you can't talk yourself out of liking me? You are so full of yourself. You can't even ask a girl to prom without insulting her, and you're too daft to even realize it!"