Earnest Thoughts

“Come on, I’m sure you’ll find him most agreeable.”

“I wont,” Heather pokes me, “I mean, that would be the greatest misfortune of all! Do not wish me such an evil.”

“Well I have, and you must take it with dignity,” she smirks, “now step in there,” she nods her head at the door, I reach for the doorhandle, a polished sliver knob, terribly modern, I wonder if this modern setting would distract from what we were about to write, would this doorknob be my downfall? “Aimee,” I look up, “you’ll be fine,” Heather shoots me a grin, “just remember not to mention Winfred and it’ll be okay.”

I nod, taking a breath and entering the room. It was small, like a prison cell, the walls were already bearing down on me, how would I cope when the only other inmate was… Well Davison was tall dark and handsome.

I stand there, waiting for him to look up from his phone., eventually I clear my throat but all he does is glance at me before going back to it. I stay silent, waiting for him to speak, a large part of me felt angry that he refused to acknowledge me. This has been his idea after all. The silence stretches on until I decide I should say something, if only to annoy him, “small room isn’t it.” I play it off as just another mundane comment. This time he can’t even be bothered to look up. I glare at his phone for a moment, “It is your turn to say something now, Davison.”

He looks up, grinning, “let me whatever you wish to be said shall be spoken, m’lady,” he does a mock bow, his phone falls to the floor and he fumbles for a moment, trying to pick it up, completely forgetting the movement he was meant to be doing.

I giggle at the display, unwarranted feelings of fondness bubble up, I look away, maybe it’s best if we don’t say anything. We could write separately, him do the first half and I do the second. If we compare notes…. “that’ll do for now,” I respond, taking a chare in the corner opposite.

“Do you talk as a rule then, (Austin p84) while in a group project?”

“I’d say most people do but it’s clear that most are uncomfortable in the quiet,” he finally manages to scoop his phone off the floor. I watch as he pockets it, his head ducked, features indistinguishable.

“Are you referring to yourself or me?” his head is still ducked and without being able to make out his expression I felt it clear that he was mocking me. I was the one who had broken the silence; therefore I was like most people. I had inadvertently given him a compliment when in actuality his lack of cooperation angered me!

“Both,” I reply, keeping my tone level, he looks up at me, “for I have always seen a great similarity in the turn of our minds. – We are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say something which will amaze the whole room, and be handed down to posterity with all the éclat of a proverb.” (Austin p.84) He stares at me in confusion, eyebrows raised, “Pride and Predudice?” he frowns, “the book we’re working on? The one we have to write a short story about, together.” My voice raises slightly.

“Nerd,” he scoffs, “well, you’re wrong, there’s nothing strikingly similar between your personality and mine anyway. Nothing similar enough to warrant you to quote it at me.” I take a deep breath, trying to release the anger he seemed to easily bring out. He clearly did not care and the temptation to be the same compelled me to leave but I had to stay strong. We had to finish this after all, one way or another it’d get done. “Do you often bunk off school?”

Heather had been sick, really sick, she’d fainted but no one believed her, the faculty calling her a drama queen and sending her on to live the rest of her day, still working. Not even a trip to the medical room. So, I climbed the gate, went down to a real doctor and told them her symptoms, they then came too the school and demanded to see her. It was a massive scandal. Despite the fact it turned out Heather ad diabetes and I had just saved her life I still got detention and the whole school knew too. It was a touchy subject to say the least.

“Yes, I often find myself running out the school when I feel like it, no life saving involved,” I shoot him a glare, he just nods, cool as a cucumber, “I spoke to Winfred the other day.”

His expression immediately changes, suddenly the wall seemed to grab his attention, “He’s a guy blessed with many talents, one of those is making friends. Not so good at keeping them.”

“He’s certainly unlucky to have lost yours. He suffers greatly. Just yesterday he was telling me about h-“

“I get it,” he snaps, finally he snaps, “do you want to work now or is that too ordinary for you, should we subjugate ourselves to a corner each and work in silence, our only exchange to be at the end when we marry our two stories and move on.” I cock my head at him, “that’s right, I’m in the pay too you know. I know how to talk all fancy and I know what Pride and Predudice is. It’s just weird you know it off by heart,” he grabs a sheet of paper from his bag and gestures for me to come over, I do, dragging my feet somewhat. I grab my purple pen and he takes his green.

For a while there’s silence, just complete and utter silence. I break it again, “we could make them gay.”

He snorts, I don’t. Silence stretches on again, “I’d love to, so I’ll be Mr Darcy and you can be Mr Edmund,” he snatches the paper away from me and begins writing.

“Wait, don’t we need more?” I resist the urge to chew on the nib of my pen. This wouldn’t be a good story if I didn’t know what was going on, would it?

“Isn’t the point to push yourself? This’ll help you get outside your comfort zone,” he looks over his gasses at me, “you are uncomfortable, aren’t you?” I don’t answer and he shoves the paper over to me, “just don’t include anything gross and you’ll be fine.”

“Dancing has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world. – Every savage can dance,” (Austin p.22) Darcy did not take his eyes off Edmund as he said this. The way he deliberately let emphasised the word savage, to some that would be seen as an insult but to one of his kind, one who would fear ever being called that name. He would understand. “Do you dance?” he stares at Edmund intently.

“I thought you didn’t know an quotes?” I look up at him.

He smirks, “well, I’m no savage, that and it’s famous. My mum has it on a tea towel.”

Edmund stares at Darcy, how could he be so forward, didn’t he understand he wasn’t in the city anymore. People remembered your face and what you said here. Everyone was looking at him now and if he said he didn’t wish too he may inadvertently imply the other sex to be repulsive to him, “indeed I intend to dance.”

Davison snatches the paper off me, “I had a thought, you’re about to ruin it,” he demands. I shut my mouth. There was no point complaining.

“I think I shall dance too,” Darcy walks out and asks a young woman to dance, he keeps an eye on Edmund and positioned himself so that he’s be able to dance directly next to him. That was the aim after all. This man was clearly on his side and Darcy was more than willing to oblige him.

Davison shoves the paper back at me, looking at me expectantly. I make a mental note to put him in his place if we ever do this again and begin writing.

Edmund stares, how could Darcy have such charisma? It was his status, a wealthy city man, how he longed to have such a status for himself instead of being one of four boys. Easily replaceable. He asks a young woman named Sarah to dance with him and so they begin. Darcy was ever so close to him the whole time, closer than was proper perhaps and he found himself unable to focus on the poor woman he was meant to be talking too. He heard Darcy doing that with ease and wondered if he’d made the whole thing up.

The bell rang and the paper was, yet again, snatched out my hands, I open my mouth to protest but he was already gone. I sigh, hopefully we could finish tomorrow.