Pride, Prejudice, and Push-Up Bras Page 5

  “Tell you what. I’ll ask them for you.”

  Rachel shook her head. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Rachel, I’ve known your parents my whole life.” I grinned. “They’re used to me wheedling them for stuff.”

  “Not...right now.” Rachel held up a hand when I started tugging on her other arm. “Really, Liz. I’ll, uh, call my parents from the phone here and ask them.”

  “But your condo is just up one flight of stairs. And you don’t have your purse. Or keys.”

  Rachel kept shaking her head. “Liz, the condo is really a mess. I’ll give you a ride, but you can’t go up there right now.”

  Unbelievable. And I thought Jane had gotten weird lately. “So I should wait downstairs for you? Like, in the lobby?”

  Like a stranger?

  “I’ll go ask my parents and come right back down.”

  And she did, and we were gone in five minutes, but the girl I’d known inside out since third grade had suddenly become a stranger. With secrets.

  I hunched down in the passenger seat of Mr. Langdon’s Lincoln Continental and, despite a heater that revved up within moments, felt chilled. To the bone.

  Thursday night, when I still wasn’t studying for next week’s chemistry test, I curled up in a corner of the ratty living room couch, dipped into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, and wondered why I hadn’t heard from Rachel. At all. I barely looked up when Cat and Lydia ran inside from another illegal joyride, out of breath and babbling wildly about...circus performers?

  “It’s a circus group! And they just arrived in Woodbury! And they’re staying, like, maybe all winter!”

  Cat cut off Lydia with a frantic hand in her face. “They didn’t actually say how long they’re staying.”

  Lydia shoved Cat’s hand back in her own face. “I was the one who talked to Rocco. I know exactly how long they’re staying.”

  “You do not.” Cat crossed her arms, a storm threatening on her face, but Lydia just ignored her.

  “They’re staying, like, for a while.”

  I rolled my eyes as Lydia kept chattering nonstop. The circus group sounded like Cirque du Soleil, only without the class and probably the talent. After fifteen minutes of their high-pitched blathering, Dad’s head slumped to one side and he started drooling.

  Lydia wouldn’t notice. “I watched them practicing, and the high bar is soooo high—” Dad blinked, so he must still be alive. “—and one of them swung from a trapeze with a girl in his arms, and, like, I wish I could be that girl.”

  “But you’re not. Thank God.” Dad shook his head at the nonsense spouting out of Lydia’s heavily lipsticked mouth.

  “Is it okay if we go back to watch them practice tonight?” Lydia batted her eyelashes at Mom.

  Just as Mom started to nod, Dad looked sharply at Lydia over the top of his reading glasses. “Don’t you have homework?”

  Mom smiled brightly at Dad, as if the concept of homework didn’t register—even though she’d gone through law school when I was in grade school, so I knew how much she’d studied. Tons. “Oh, Howard. Lydia and Cat are just doing what every other high-school girl does.”

  “Watching the circus?” I raised my eyebrows and glanced at Jane for support, but Jane was in Mom’s small office next to the living room, hunched over the computer.

  Dad shook his head. “Lizzie is right. They’re a little old for the circus. I’d rather see Cat and Lydia doing something constructive.”

  Lydia yawned. “So? Can we go, Mom?”

  The conversation ground to a halt when Jane suddenly jumped up and knocked her chair over backward. “I got an email from Stephanie Bingham.”

  Well, raise the flag. Dad looked at me, his eyebrows knitted together, but I couldn’t help him out. I had no idea why Stephanie was emailing Jane when she could call or text her on the cell phone attached to her hip.

  Two seconds later, though, I was hovering over Jane’s shoulder, along with Mom, Lydia, Cat, and even Mary, and going through hell with a side order of slaps to maintain my position. Luckily, I played basketball in high school. I took out two sisters with a single jab of my elbow.

  Mary started to read the email out loud in that droning way of hers until I stepped on Mary’s foot. Then we all went back to reading silently over Jane’s shoulder.

  From:steph69@nyhiplife.com

  To:jane.b@mail4u.net

  The guys are out for the duration. I’m bored out of my skull and wanna drink Cosmos. Join me?

  ~ Stephanie

  Mom started fuming about Stephanie asking Jane over for Cosmos. “Neither of you is old enough. You know better.”

  Lydia took advantage of the distraction and started squealing. Right in my ear. “Maybe Charlie is at the circus.” She yanked on Cat’s arm until Cat yelped. “Come with us, Jane.”

  Jane wrinkled her nose. “Charlie wouldn’t be at the circus, and I wouldn’t hang all over him, anyway. I’m going over to Stephanie’s condo.”

  I nudged her with my elbow and caught her eye. “And the fact that Stephanie’s condo happens to be Charlie’s condo isn’t a factor in your decision, right?”

  She blushed a second before scooting out of her chair and setting an Olympic record dashing up the stairs. Five minutes later, she came back downstairs in a short skirt and tight top, her hair looking like it’d received the benefit of some mousse.

  “Isn’t that a bit much for Stephanie?”

  She mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like it rhymed with “duck you.” Nope. Couldn’t be Jane. I grinned.

  She grabbed her car keys off the front-hall chest a moment too late. Mom caught her by the arm.

  “Jane, you’re only nineteen.” Mom was intrepid, I’ll give her that, even if rarely successful at stopping any of us. “I don’t want you drinking and driving. Or drinking at all. You know better than that.”

  I raised my eyebrows but didn’t say anything.

  “Oh, Mom. Stephanie is just joking about Cosmos. She always drinks water or Diet Coke.” Jane fixated on the keys in her hand, not meeting Mom’s eye, and a flush zoomed upward from the base of her neck. Yep. Definitely fibbing. “And I have some errands to run anyway.” She was out the door in a whoosh. “Don’t wait up for me.”

  I called after her. “We will. Don’t worry!”

  A few minutes later, despite Dad’s threats of cutting off their allowances, Lydia and Cat sneaked out, too. I heard the Jeep rumble to life, leaving me at home on a Thursday night with my parents and Mary. “Dad, stop them!”

  He puffed on a sickly-sweet-smelling cigar, even though Mom had long since banned cigars from the house. “I tried, Lizzie. Too bad you’re not a fan of circus performers.”

  I should be, after all. I live with a family of them.

  The next morning I was still a little steamed, even though I should’ve been enjoying my one morning of the week that was totally free of classes. I couldn’t even sleep in, what with all the racket downstairs.

  “Jane? Where are you? Lydia, go wake up your sister. She’ll be late for school.”

  Mom still treats Jane like she’s twelve, getting her up in the morning and most days packing her a lunch, complete with Twinkies. Jane usually trashes the lunch and grabs something at Coffman Union. Now, me, I told Mom to quit packing my lunch, but Jane doesn’t like to hurt her feelings.

  But why hadn’t she gotten up? Rolling over, I squinted at the alarm clock. Almost nine. And Jane’s empty bed was already neatly made, as always.

  Groaning, I tumbled out of bed and hobbled to the window. The Prius wasn’t in front of the house. I started to shout the news to Mom when Lydia barged into my room without knocking.

  “Jane isn’t here!”

  “No kidding. She probably went to school early. God knows it’s too loud to study around here.” I yawned and stumbled back into bed, pulling the covers over my head.

  Lydia yanked them off. “Jane hasn’t been here all night. She didn’t sleep in her bed.”


  “How do you know? Just because you never make your bed...”

  Lydia waved a hand in the air. “I would’ve heard her. I was up late last night and she never came home.”

  I threw on a pair of sweats and my Grateful Dead T-shirt and trotted downstairs. Mom, late for work, was at the kitchen counter stuffing papers in her briefcase. Lydia and Cat bent their heads together at the kitchen table, giggling, and Mary was playing Ode to Moss on a Rock on the piano. Dad stood on a yoga mat in the living room, breathing deeply as he moved through his sun salutation.

  I walked past him just as the landline rang.

  “I’ll get it!” Five female voices shouted the same thing, leaving Dad alone with his heavy breathing. Mom flung her briefcase down, strewing papers everywhere, and picked up in the kitchen. I grabbed the phone out of her hand over her sputtering protests.

  I whooshed a greeting into the phone.

  “Liz? Is that you? Oh, thank goodness.” Jane. Sounding nervous and a bit weird. The odds of her having lost her virginity last night skyrocketed. “The battery died on my cell phone, and I couldn’t remember your number.” Yep. Weird. “I’m still at Charlie’s—er, I mean Stephanie’s—condo.”

  Same difference, but I didn’t say it. If Jane had to go and lose her virginity, you’d think she would’ve picked a less auspicious way of announcing it to the whole family. Like, say, taking out an ad in the Star Tribune.

  Despite how I felt about the stupidity of hooking up with Charlie, I felt sorry for her. “Are you okay?”

  “No. I mean, yes. Well, not really.”

  “That clears things up.” With Mom and two sisters literally breathing down my neck, and Mary back pounding on the piano, I didn’t know what to say.

  Jane blew out a heavy sigh. “I, uh, drank a little too much last night, and I couldn’t drive home, and Stephanie wouldn’t give me a ride. Next thing I knew, I woke up in the guest room.”

  That answered a few questions, but I still wondered where Charlie was in the whole scenario. In the same bed, doing the wild thing with Jane? My mind reeled with possibilities, even though I suspected that, well, nothing happened. I mean, this was Jane. Not exactly a voracious man-eater.

  I completely forgot to speak, and Jane filled in the void. “Now my car won’t start, and I don’t feel so hot. I shouldn’t have had so many Cosmos.”

  Even at college parties, Jane didn’t drink more than a few sips of wine. If we were talking Cosmos, plural, she must be sick as a dog. And stuck at Charlie’s, trying not to look awful in front of him. I promised to go retrieve her, then hurried off the phone just as Lydia yanked on my arm.

  I turned to the group surrounding me. “Jane got sick last night.” No need to mention the alcohol, especially in front of Lydia and Cat. They had enough bad ideas as it was. “So Stephanie invited her to stay overnight, and now her car isn’t working, and I’m going to go get her.”

  “I’ll get her, Liz.” Mom had a determined gleam in her eye, which meant she wasn’t exactly pleased. Crap. Why did she have to be late for work today? “I told her not to drink, and I don’t understand why she keeps hanging around Charlie.”

  “I didn’t say Jane was drinking. And she was with Charlie’s sister, not Charlie.” At least, to start with.

  “Regardless.” Mom lifted an eyebrow, which meant she wasn’t totally clueless. “I want to nip this in the bud.”

  Too late for that. Ignoring her, I grabbed a set of keys to the Jeep out of the kitchen sink, where Cat or Lydia must’ve left them.

  Dad stood up. “I’ll go with you, Lizzie, and take a look at Jane’s car. I’ve never liked hybrids. You can’t count on them the way you can on regular gasoline.”

  Dad is a dinosaur, yeah, but a good guy—when he isn’t busy forgetting that yoga doesn’t exactly pay the bills or making me watch over Jane. “Thanks, but I’m just going to pick up Jane. Maybe we can go over later and look under the hood?”

  I shot outside before anyone else offered to ride along, then hauled up short at the sight of the Jeep, which had a dent in the front bumper that hadn’t been there yesterday. Scowling, I hopped in anyway and turned the key in the ignition. Nothing.

  Damn those girls.

  “Lydia! Cat! What did you do to the Jeep last night?” I slammed the front door and kept shouting in their sudden absence. “Get down here!”

  “Liz! Quit yelling like that.” Mom poked her head out of the kitchen as she shoved a handful of papers back in her briefcase. “You’re always accusing those girls of something. You’re not their mother.”

  I exchanged a look with my dad. If I were their mother, they’d spend a lot more time locked in their room.

  “What happened, Lizzie? What did they do?” Dad went from mountain pose to his glowing cigar, which he’d left in a nearby ashtray.

  “I’m sure they didn’t do anything, Howard.” Mom joined us in the living room, even though I knew she had a court hearing this morning. She’d never let her precious darlings get punished. Not in this lifetime.

  I was so mad I could spit. “Oh, really? Then why does the Jeep have a dent in the bumper? And why won’t it start?”

  Lydia sauntered into the living room, Cat cowering behind her. “Maybe it won’t start ’cause there’s no gas in it. Duh. What am I supposed to do, spend my own money on gas?”

  “Yes, Lydia. You are. When you get your license and are allowed to drive.” Dad shook his finger at Lydia, even though he hadn’t stopped her from stealing the Jeep last night. “That’s the rule around here.”

  “It’s a stupid rule. Why can’t Liz ever fill up the tank? Why is it always empty when I—” She turned bright pink. Busted. “I mean, when Cat is driving the Jeep?”

  “I left it half full last night, you jerk.” I wanted to throttle Lydia, but Mom stood in my way. I could knock her down and still nail Lydia, but I wasn’t sure it was worth it. “Where did you go? South Dakota?”

  Dad gave my arm a gentle touch before turning back to Lydia. “You’re not allowed to drive any cars, young lady, unless it’s with your mother or me. You’re fifteen. You only have a learner’s permit. Period.”

  Lydia was almost shaking. “Cat was driving.”

  I crossed my arms. “So? Cat is a whopping six minutes older than you, sweetheart. As in, also fifteen.”

  “That’s it.” From the look on Dad’s face, even Mom couldn’t save Lydia and Cat from his wrath. “You’re both grounded from now until Christmas. Don’t even think about driving a car. No Jeep, no nothing.” He whirled to face Mom, whose mouth hung open. “I’m serious, Connie. They can’t drive, and you can’t let them. Or I’ll revoke your driving privileges, too.”

  Mom jammed her hands on her ample hips. “Howard!”

  He shrugged. “We’ll save a mint on car-insurance premiums. I should’ve done this years ago.”

  Lydia flounced out of the room, Cat hot on her trail. They probably didn’t want to stick around to see what else Dad might do. Steam was practically coming out of his ears.

  He turned back to me, shoulders sagging. “I’m sorry, Lizzie. I’ll get some gas in the Jeep and look at the fender. Nothing we can’t fix.”

  “And you can’t go anywhere looking like that, Liz. I said I’d get Jane.” Mom, still trembling from Dad’s rage, pointed at my outfit. I glanced down. What was wrong with the Grateful Dead? And my sweatpants had only one hole in the knee.

  I shrugged. “I look good enough to get Jane.”

  Besides, Charlie probably wouldn’t even be there, and I didn’t give a rat’s ass what Stephanie thought. This was about Jane. And, okay, more than a little bit about me. If I wanted any chance of getting Jane away from Charlie and back on track to finding an apartment with me, I had to move fast.

  I just hoped I wasn’t already too late.

  Chapter 5

  “She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an excellent walker. I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really looked almost wild.�
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  — Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice, Volume I, Chapter Eight

  I could’ve asked to borrow Dad’s car, but I didn’t need more hassles. Besides, the best thing for Jane’s hangover might be a brisk walk home—although I had a hunch she might not agree. I stepped outside. After inhaling the ripe leafy scents of the beautiful late-fall day, I half walked, half jogged over to the condo building. Fifteen minutes later, I was in the lobby, waiting to be buzzed inside.

  Hot and sweating from the exercise, I glanced around as I unzipped my jacket. I’d been here several times now to see Rachel, and I still couldn’t believe how luxurious it was. Outside, the lawn and gardens were landscaped to the max in lush, vivid colors. It was weird enough that Rachel and her parents had moved here—Rachel’s dad must’ve really scored big bucks on another patent—but Charlie seemed way too young to stay here, especially in the penthouse condo. And who exactly owned the condo, and why wasn’t he ever here? Could Charlie be a drug runner after all? Perfect hiding place. The feds probably didn’t even know Woodbury existed.

  While I tried to picture Charlie pushing coke, the door buzzed open. After a quick elevator ride to the top floor, I rang another buzzer. Sheesh. Whenever I visited Rachel, she waited for me in the hall, but Rachel wasn’t Stephanie or even Charlie. As I felt the sweat start to congeal on my back, the door swung open. Alex Darcy stood before me. Crap.

  I touched an embarrassed hand to the front of my T-shirt, but it was too late to do anything about my wardrobe choices. Besides, I reminded myself as I whipped my hand away, I didn’t care what Alex thought. I didn’t have classes this morning, or a job to get to, and I was doing Jane a favor.

  Alex, in pressed khakis and a button-down oxford, ran a keen eye down the front of me and back up, not bothering to hide it. My cheeks felt flushed, my T-shirt was completely soaked, and my sneakers were beat all to hell.