The Epic Adventures of Lydia Bennet

Chapter Six

The Night Before

This is one of those times I would have vlogged.

Sitting up in my room, getting ready for the first day of class, showing off my fancy new school supplies (if I had gotten fancy stuff), wondering who would be in my classes, what failed careers my community college professors had attempted before ending up here, what boy (or boys) I'd pursue for the summer.

This is one of those times I would have vlogged, if I still vlogged.

I thought about it. Picked up my phone, switched over to the camera, flipped it around, stared at my face. A pimple was forming over my right eyebrow. Perfect. I'd have to put toothpaste on that later.

People kept tweeting me to make at least one more vlog. I saw that. It took me a couple of weeks before I decided it would be better to turn off my Twitter notifications and delete the app from my phone. But during that time, I saw everyone saying how awful it was that my last video—before everything came apart—was about how I had fallen completely in love with George Wickham, and that I really needed to post just one more, at least one more.

They weren't being mean. I know that. They pitied me. They wanted me to rise up and be this strong, independent woman and show that I was going to be okay. They wanted a proper end to my story.

It frustrated me that I couldn't do it. It frustrated me then, and it frustrates me now, sitting in my room, finger hovering over the record button.

It isn't that I'm not that person. I'm freaking Lydia Bennet. I'm awesome, and I can do anything.

Except when I can't.

A knock on my door interrupted my failed attempt at vlogging. "It's open." I put down my phone, crossing my fingers that the slow, heavy knock meant it was Mary on the other side of the door and not one of my parents. Room visits often meant serious con- versations, and I could only handle so much from them in one night.

"I finished unpacking. And I finished my book." Definitely Mary. Thank God.

"I'm glad hanging out with your favoritest cousin comes second to reading," I teased.

Mary shrugged and plopped herself down across from me at the foot of my bed.

"I can't believe you only brought one bag of stuff," I said. "You're living here like all summer. I mean, you didn't even bring your bass guitar."

She shrugged again. I swear, if she could get away with only communicating via shrugging, she absolutely would. "The rest of my stuff is only an hour away. Besides, I have to wear all black for work, anyway."

"Oh, that will be so hard for you." Like anyone's ever seen Mary in color.

"I start tomorrow," she said.

"I thought you had another week before they needed you?"

Shrug. "Manager called this morning. Someone quit, so they upped me to this week."

"Well, I hope it doesn't get in the way of your grand plans to get a library card and sit in Jane's closet all day with the light off."

She cocked her eyebrow. "Why would I do that?"

"All of Jane's windows get direct sunlight. Ooh! I can come visit you in between my classes. I get free drinks, right?"

"Let me at least get through the first week before I put my job in jeopardy handing out complimentary lattes." Mary sighed. "But you can still come visit, if you want." She paused, fidgeting with her sleeve. "I don't know how things will work out with taking breaks and talking to customers and whatever, but I will be right there, so if anything comes up—"