I'm Not Charlotte Lucas(77)

Chapter Thirty


The school parking lot was full, way more so than I’d expected, and by the time I raced into the school and down to the theater, it was exactly seven o’clock. Phew. At least I wasn’t super late.

But I was late enough that they’d already started. I left Beth’s ticket at the window and slipped inside as the lights were dimming. The crowd was impossible to see as my eyes adjusted, and I contemplated taking a seat in the back and finding my parents at intermission, but there really didn’t appear to be an empty chair in the whole house.

Good for the high school, of course. Not so much for me.

A young high schooler dressed all in black approached, his curly hair brushed to the side and hipster glasses low on his nose. “Can I help you find a place to sit, ma’am?”

Ma’am? What was with these kids? I should definitely still have been a miss.

“My family is saving me a seat somewhere in the front, center aisle, stage right.”

He lifted his eyebrows and said, “Okay, great. Right this way.”

He led me toward the side and then pointed down the aisle. “They’ll be somewhere down there, then.”

“Thanks.”

Crouching, I snuck down the aisle as a group of obnoxious, tittering girls took the stage, no doubt the Bennet sisters, while their parents began discussing the new family that moved into Netherfield. But my parents were nowhere to be seen. I was half-tempted to pull out my phone and call one of them, but they’d never forgive me for causing such a stir.

Crouching lower, I clutched my jacket and searched the seats, mouthing apologies to the people who awkwardly met my eye.

Until I caught Liam’s gaze, and my heart stopped. Why must he look so attractive in a dim, high-school-theater audience? Regret and anxiety warred within me, and I wanted to jerk my gaze from his, but I was locked in. He looked so compassionate and hungry, like he wanted to jump over the three people seated between him and the aisle. His hand came forward on the armrest like he was about to push himself up, and the motion snapped me out of my trance. There was no way I was going to talk with him now.

I tore my gaze from his handsome face and caught Mom waving to me on the other side of the theater. Stage left if the usher was correct when he directed me. I went back up the aisle and around to the other side, scooting past a few strangers to get to the empty seat Mom had saved for me, Dad on her other side.

“You’re late,” she whispered.

“We had a last-minute customer at the bank, and I got out the door late. I was here before the curtain went up.”

Looking past Mom and her judgmental little huff, I found Liam on the opposite end of our row, watching me. His mouth tipped into a half-smile, and it hurt so bad I was tempted to get up and walk right out of there. Instead, I faced the stage.

I sat through the longest first act of a play in my entire life. Mariah did fine, and Spike was actually rather gifted onstage, but I could hardly focus knowing Liam was at the other end of my row.

When the lights came on during intermission and I immediately sought him out in the crowd of parents and high-schoolers getting up to use the restroom and buy concessions, I was insanely disappointed to find his seat empty.

Had seeing me been too much for him as well, and he’d left? That idea left a bitter, unpleasant taste in my mouth.

Mom jerked me from my musings. “Do you want to come with us? We’re going to get water.”

“No, thanks. I’ll just wait here.”

“Suit yourself.”

She and Dad scooted past me, patting my shoulder as they passed, and I pulled out my phone to text Beth.

Me: We’re sitting stage left. It’s the actors’ left, by the way, not ours.

Beth: Rushing! I’ll be there in ten. How is it so far?

Me: Cute, of course.

I was sure that was a safe response. I wasn’t going to tell her that I was entirely distracted and unable to pay attention.

Beth: Any Liam sightings?

Me: Just one, but it wasn’t terrible. Haven’t talked to him.

Beth: Yet?

I slid my phone into my pocket without responding. I didn’t want to talk to him here. It was so public. There were too many people around.

Standing up to let some women pass me to return to their seats, I stretched my arms out. Maybe a walk would be good, but I didn’t want to risk running into Liam.

“What a cute idea,” the first woman said over her shoulder to her friends. “I asked if they were for purchase, but the usher told me no. It was just a premiere treat.”

“I particularly liked the Pemberley scene,” her friend responded. “What I wouldn’t give to have an estate like that for myself.”

“Maybe you can find the artist and get a painting done. It looked better than the real thing.”

They continued down the row and took their seats toward the center, and I tried not to check Liam’s empty seat every three seconds, or the women would totally think I was staring at them.

“Charlie Lucas?”

I jumped in my seat and turned to find Mr. Kirkham standing in the aisle facing me. He was the second-to-last person I wanted to see tonight.

“It is you,” he said, a grin spreading over his dark, olive face. “How are you?”

I got up, stepping into the aisle to give him a hug. That was appropriate, right? I mean, I’d been out of school for eight years now, and he’d been my mentor.