The Secret Diary of Lizzie Bennet Read Online Free Page B

her eyes on Bing
and Jane. Then I saw her
pump her fists
in triumph. Mrs. Lu, not to be outdone, leaned over and whispered something in my mom’s ear. My mother’s eyes immediately zipped to
where William Darcy was standing against a wall, frowning (of course) and typing on his phone.
    Then her eyes zipped toward me.
    That was when I decided to hide. I found a nice spot on a far wall, with some decent shadowing. With any luck my mother would not be able to find me and instead target her matchmaking onto
Lydia, who was currently grinding against two different guys on the dance floor.
    Of course, I don’t have any luck.
    I was pretty happy by my wall. I watched Jane and Bing dance. I watched my mom try to talk to Darcy and get a literal cold shoulder. And then . . . I watched my steely-eyed mother march over and
whisper something in the bride and groom’s ears.
    “All right, everyone!” Mrs. Gibson called out. “Time for the bouquet toss!”
    Oh, dear God.
    This is every unattached person’s least favorite part of any wedding. Might as well herd all us single folk into a pen to be gawked at like an exhibit at a zoo: Look! Unmatched pairs, in
the wild!
    But I could feel my mother’s eyes staring daggers at me. I would be disowned if I didn’t participate.
    I found Charlotte in the crowd of reluctant young ladies. We shared a shrug of sympathy.
    Jane came up next to me. “Hi! Isn’t this such a wonderful wedding?” She glowed. If infatuation were radioactive, she would be Marie Curie. “I’m so happy. For Ellen
and Stuart,” she clarified.
    “Aw, Ellen and Stuart are so super cute together, it’s gross!” Lydia said from my other side. “But Stu has the
hottest
friends—which one do you think I
should sneak out to the car with?”
    Lydia finger-waved to the two inebriated bros she’d been dancing with.
    Since there was only a 50 percent chance she was joking, I opened my mouth to say something that would hopefully cajole my younger sister into not banging some random dude in the car we all had
to ride home in, when out of the corner of my eye I saw a bouquet of peonies headed right for my face.
    Holding up my hands was a natural defensive reaction.
    So there I was, bouquet in hand and a bunch of relieved single women around me clapping. I noticed my mother in the crowd beyond. She was giving the bride two thumbs up.
    Next up: the guys. One guess as to which self-inflicted social pariah stood as far away as possible from the crowd but still got the garter slingshot into his chest.
    William Darcy.
    We locked eyes. He looked grim. To be fair, I’m sure I did, too.
    As the music started up and the dance floor cleared for this most terrible of traditions, I was actually feeling a little sorry for William Darcy. He was clearly not comfortable. He didn’t
dance well—just sort of swayed in time to the music, and kept me at arm’s length like a seventh grader, his chin going back into his face like a turtle trying to hide. (I’m not a
professional dancer by any means, but I enjoy a good turn across the floor with someone fun, and I regularly kick Lydia’s butt in Just Dance.) He also did his best to avoid my eyes. Maybe he
was just a little socially awkward. After all, Bing seemed fun and outgoing, and Darcy is Bing’s friend, so there has to be something more to him, right?
    Wrong.
    I tried a little conversation to break the silence.
    “This is a pretty incredible party, don’t you think?”
    “If you say so.”
    Wow. Okay.
    “Well, it’s what passes for incredible in our little town. How do you like it here so far?”
    “I don’t, especially.”
    W
ow.
Way to be open and accepting of my hometown there, fancypants.
    “Do you . . .” I searched for something, anything. “. . . like to dance?”
    “Not if I can help it.”
    “Do you like anything?” I couldn’t help but say.
    That got him to look at me. He was shocked, but hey, at least it was some response.
    “Look, I’m trying