I'm Not Charlotte Lucas(34)

Mariah shook her head. “We did a read-through yesterday, but rehearsals don’t start until Monday. I’m supposed to spend this weekend memorizing my lines.”

Her face looked bluish from the light of the television, and I watched her expression shift between laughing and deadpanned as the show went on. A commercial came on for cereal, and she faced me. “It’s super creepy that you’re just sitting here watching me.”

“Who do you have a crush on?”

She rolled her eyes. “Mom told you that, didn’t she? She’s making it up.”

Darn. I should have known. “And here I was so sad you didn’t tell me.”

Mariah jumped up and grabbed a bag of microwave popcorn from the pantry, then threw it into the microwave and hit the button. Our kitchen and living room were one big space. She leaned against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest. “She saw me chatting with a guy after school, and when I told her he played Mr. Darcy, she flipped.”

“Good flipped?”

Mariah rolled her eyes. “Is there a good way to flip out? She’s stressed because I haven’t heard back from any colleges yet.”

Well, I couldn’t blame Mom for that. “Are you stressed out?”

“Not yet. But I will be if Mom keeps it up.”

Okay, noted. Ask Mom to get off Mariah’s case and stress in silence. She couldn’t help it if the schools hadn’t notified her yet. That was out of her control.

“How was your date?” Mariah dropped onto the cushion beside me, nestling the overfilled popcorn bowl between us. The salty, buttery tang filled my nose and made my already burger-full stomach yearn for popcorn. Had she popped two bags? There was way more popcorn in this bowl than either of us should be eating.

I tossed a few kernels into my mouth. “It went well. Apparently he calls me babe now.”

Mariah scrunched up her nose, giving me a judgmental side-eye. “Maybe he picked that up from the last girl.”

“He was interested to know how you were doing, by the way,” I said with more force than necessary, hoping to guilt her a wee bit. “I told him you’d gotten super tall and had terrible acne and no boys would ask you out.”

Mariah threw a pillow at my face, and I ducked, grinning. The show came back on, stealing her attention like it had magical powers, and I pulled my phone out. Surprise filled me when I saw I had a text. I hadn’t felt my phone vibrate, but the time stamp indicated that it had just come in.

Liam: Start flexing your bowling fingers. I’m planning to cream you tomorrow.

Me: I’m sure you will. I’m absolutely awful at bowling.

Liam: You’re hustling me.

Me: Did no one ever tell you that bowling was a fun, wholesome activity? Leave the competitive Liam at home, please.

Liam: Which Liam would you like me to bring?

My cheeks warmed. Was he insinuating something, or was I just looking for something there because I was attracted to the guy? I mean, he had called me gorgeous. That was hard to forget. And in my yoga pants and messy bun, for heaven’s sake.

But Liam had something going on with the gorgeous brunette I’d seen on his porch. Women didn’t lean in for kisses from strangers. He also knew I had a boyfriend. Obviously, I was reading into this.

“Who are you texting?” Mariah asked, her curious eyes watching my screen.

I clicked off my phone, turning it upside down. “No one.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “So, not Andy then? This is juicy. You were radiant.”

I scoffed. “What makes you think it isn’t Andy?”

“If it was, you wouldn’t be trying to hide it.”

The phone buzzed in my hands, and Mariah’s face lit up. “He texted again. Don’t you want to look at it?”

“Ugh. You’re seventeen. Go away.”

She dug out a fistful of popcorn and began eating it, one kernel at a time, watching me instead of the TV.

“Just tell me who it is.”

“I told you,” I said. “It’s no one.”

She watched me a minute longer before the show stole her attention again. I mindlessly snacked on the popcorn, despite eating way too much at dinner with Andy, and did not check my phone again, no matter how badly I wanted to.

Had Liam apologized for flirting? Had he explained that he hadn’t flirted? Maybe it was just a text telling me how badly I would lose tomorrow or asking about Beth.

“Early day tomorrow,” I said, rising and stretching. Mariah rolled her eyes like she could see right through me, but I said good night anyway and escaped to my room. I wasn’t even halfway up the stairs when I turned on my phone to check the text, and my shoulders slumped in disappointment.

Andy: Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.

I sighed, trudging up to my room. That was not the reaction I was supposed to have.





Chapter Fifteen


I sat on my porch swing, purse perched over my shoulder and phone in hand, waiting for Andy. He was supposed to have arrived ten minutes ago to pick me up for bowling, and I stomped down the obnoxious threads of déjà vu, covering them with my pathetic hopes that it would be different this time. Images assaulted me of Mariah and Beth each saying those same, fateful words: people don’t usually change.

I wasn’t going to stand for it this time. I wouldn’t date a man who constantly made me wait for him with no explanation at all.