I'm Not Charlotte Lucas(9)

“You cut it. And you convinced me to go all the way to my collar bone.”

She flashed me a smile. “There’s still enough length to work with. We could do a low, gathered up-style. Loose curls. Maybe leave a few tendrils out. What do you think?”

She didn’t want my opinion really. She’d already decided. “Sure. Now, can you unzip me?”

A wicked smile crossed her lips. “I like this look, Char.”

“Not for the carpool lane. I’ve got to pick up Mariah from the high school. She did auditions today,” I said with a lift of my eyebrows. I watched Beth through the mirror as she unzipped me and helped me from the dress. “Did I tell you what play they’re doing right now? Pride and Prejudice.”

“No way.” Her nose wrinkled in a grimace. “I’m not sure I can go watch this one, then. A little high school kid playing Mr. Darcy might be too much.”

***

By the time I pulled into the high school parking lot, most of the cars were gone. Mariah sat on the edge of a cement planter box, her face trained on her phone.

I honked, gathering her attention, and she glanced up. Oh no. Something was wrong. The pitiful smile she shot me was as far from genuine as Mr. Wickham’s promises. Her gaze darted everywhere but my face as she threw her bag over her shoulder and came to my car.

“That bad, huh?” I asked.

Mariah slid into the front seat, tossing her backpack onto the floor. She pulled her long, light-brown hair over her shoulder and buckled her seatbelt. “No, it went great.”

Could have fooled me. “Which part are you hoping for?”

Silence drew out. I pulled onto the road, waiting while a kid on a skateboard crossed the street. He had a beanie on, but I could almost swear he looked just like Spike. He glanced over his shoulder briefly before skating further away, and it totally was Spike. I waited until he was far away before driving again. I didn’t want to frighten him. I’d already damaged the kid enough.

“You don’t have to tell me,” I finally said, glancing at Mariah. Her usually pale cheeks were flushed, and she sank in her seat like a turtle retreating into its shell. “Honestly, though, if you’re that embarrassed by the role, how are you going to perform?”

“I’m not embarrassed. I tried for the parts of Elizabeth Bennet and Caroline Bingley.”

“Ew,” I said, making a gagging noise. “Why would you choose her?”

“Because Caroline’s sassy,” she snapped back. “Mrs. Rogers tweaked some things in the play, so it’ll be more like the movie than the book. It’ll be fun.”

“Elizabeth is pretty sassy too,” I defended.

When I pulled into the Safeway parking lot, Mariah let out a groan. “I’ve got so much homework, Charlie. Let’s just go home.”

“Can’t. I told Mom I would grab cumin. She needs it for dinner tonight.” I turned into the first row of cars and spotted a parking space just three places down. Perfect.

“Stop!” Mariah screamed, forcing me to slam on my breaks as a tall, bright-yellow Jeep swung in front of us and stole the spot.

“What a jerk move,” I said, disgusted. Heart hammering, I pressed the button to roll down Mariah’s window, waiting for the guy to get out of the Jeep. My body flushed cold from the shock, and my heart was racing.

“What are you do—no, Charlie. Don’t talk to the guy.”

“That was ridiculous and unsafe. He could have seriously hurt us.”

“But he didn’t, and we are fine now.” Mariah was pushing the up button on her window as I fought her, pressing the down button from my side.

“Ha! I’ve got child lock.” I locked the window buttons for the rest of the car and successfully rolled down Mariah’s window. She sank deeper into her seat, dropping her face into her hands.

“Excuse me, sir,” I called as a man stepped out of the Jeep and began walking our way. “That was very unsafe—”

My body stilled, heat rising up my neck as the Jeep-driving spot-stealer stepped closer. His mop of blond hair was perfectly messy, and his mouth broke into a wide grin.

For once, I actually wished I’d listened to Mariah.

Because the guy coming my way was none other than my ex-boyfriend, Andy.





Chapter Five


“When did you get a Jeep?” I blurted before I could think better of it.

Andy leaned down to look through the passenger window, his sandy blond hair flopping over his forehead. “Charlie?” he asked.

My cheeks warmed, and I checked my makeup in the rearview mirror to make sure there was no mascara under my eyes before I stepped out of the car. I’d forgotten how tall Andy was. As he straightened, meeting me at the front bumper, I lifted my gaze to meet his.

“This is such a coincidence. I just found the playbill for Wicked the other day in my glovebox, and I was wondering how you’re doing. I thought about texting you, but I didn’t know what to say.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze fixed on me. “You look good.”

“Thanks. And you . . . didn’t always drive like a maniac.” My cheeks heated further. Why couldn’t I be normal?

“It’s not my car.” He indicated the Jeep with a flick of his head. “I’m borrowing it from my brother while mine is getting some repairs done.” He leaned against the front bumper of my car and shrugged. “Hence why I was sorting through my glove box.”