The Bridgerton Eight

Bring Me The Proverbial Ton Of Bricks

Tuesday—November 24th, 2020

"We're going to high school, not the Academy Awards," Hyacinth roared as Francesca stopped for the third time to apply lip-gloss. 

Gregory started to laugh but stopped as soon as he saw Francesca's icy stare. She had mastered the resting-bitch-face this summer and she was making good use of it. He coughed and looked away pretending to busy himself with absolutely nothing.

He and Hyacinth walked to school together everyday, the two youngest Bridgertons, and part of that ritual was to get on each other's nerves. Today, however, Francesca was accompanying them because she had a meeting with a counselor. She alleged that she only wanted a bit of guidance, but Gregory suspected that his sister hadn't adapted to uni life quite as well as her twin, Eloise. She put on quite a show everywhere she went, she never admitted when something was wrong or if something was bothering her, but Gregory was probably the only Bridgerton who could always tell when Francesca was lying. He liked paying attention to people—and especially his siblings—even if they didn't believe him to be particularly observant.

"You never get a second chance for a good first impression," Francesca replied, now making sure her eyeliner was even.

"You went to that school since first grade," Gregory couldn't help reminding her. "Literally everybody knows you."

"Oh, you wouldn't understand, Greggy."

"I wouldn't?"

She snapped her little portable mirror shut and looked up at him. Gregory had hit 5'10 that summer and he was proud of it. He wasn't yet as tall as Anthony or Benedict, but he had passed Colin and his sisters. "Always make sure people are looking at you like it's the first time they're seeing you, Gregory," she said with a serious gleam in her eyes and an elegant shake of her hair.

Hyacinth snorted. "That's not hard in there. They're teenagers. They're impressed by shiny objects."

"Thus my earrings." And Francesca flashed her siblings with one of her irresistible smiles. Gregory had to give it to her—if she didn't have everything under control she damn well looked like she had. Of all of his siblings, Francesca was the one he envied the most. There was something about her that nobody could resist. The way she carried herself, her confidence and delicacy; she was remarkable. There was something about her that no other Bridgerton had, except maybe Colin. A charm entirely her own that made her intoxicating to those around, no matter how utterly annoying she was.

"You could try just being yourself," he suggested. He was seventeen and that was a real defect in his ability to understand girls. "That's what our Social Studies teacher says."

"Wow. Spoken like a truly unpopular person," Francesca retorted. "Now," she made both Hyacinth and Gregory stop walking so they would look at her. "How do I look?"

Hyacinth answered promptly, "Shallow."

Francesca smiled. "Thank you!" And went on her merry way.

Gregory shook his head, unable to understand how his sister could be in such a great mood in the morning. It was unnatural. This was the time of day when he wished he was dead. High school. Otherwise known as Purgatory.

Hyacinth Gregory could understand much better. She had a normal response to mornings—she was sullen and aggressive, and if you so much as looked at her wrong, she would bash your face in. Gregory knew a few too many boys who had always refrained from bullying him because they were afraid of Hyacinth. She trained Muay Thai three times a week and she had made sure everyone was painfully aware of that.