Page 89 of A Scandal in Homeroom
I frowned. That seemed rather vague.
Me: What stuff?
This time my phone dinged and there were several emoji faces in a row, none of which had any meaning for me.
Me: Am I supposed to understand what that means?
Irene: You’re supposed to know that talking about stuff is what boyfriends and girlfriends do!
I considered this twist in the conversation.
Me: I thought we’d already gone over all the rules. I remember they involved a lot of door opening and closing.
Irene: UGH! Those were dating rules. This is entirely different. We’re a couple now. We need to act like it.
Me: Fine. Give me the rules for being in a couple and I’ll act accordingly.
Irene: You’re getting this all wrong!
That wasn’t surprising. What with actually being a part of a couple for the first time. Which is why I needed guidance.
Me: That’s why I need you. Just tell me what I’m supposed to do.
Irene: You’re not supposed to do anything. You should want to talk to me just because you want to talk to me.
Me: I do want to talk to you. But I also want to solve your problem. Right now one takes precedence.
Irene: You can’t find a way to do both? That’s not very good multi-tasking by you.
I was smiling because she seemed very demanding about this talking about stuff. I immediately stopped, because, again, I was being utterly pathetic.
The doorbell rang downstairs, and it caught my attention. Had she been on her way here all the time she’d been texting me? I put the phone down on my bed and left the bedroom in anticipation of seeing her.
I really did need to work, but maybe I could spare some time to be properly schooled on boyfriend etiquette. Especially if that meant making out in my room. It was late, after eight. I wondered how she’d gotten out of her house.
However, when I heard a set of voices coming from downstairs, I stopped. This wasn’t Irene coming to see me. These people were here to see Croft.
Stealthily, I made my way to the end of the hallway, just at the top of the stairs.
“Sit, sit,” I could hear my brother say. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“We won’t stay long,” said a woman’s voice.
Not any woman’s voice. It was utterly recognizable.
“You can hit me up with some of that good stuff,” the man said. “I’m not in any hurry.”
Another voice I recognized. How could I not?
They were one of the most famous power couples in America. The question was, what did Mr. and Mrs. Darcy want with my brother?
After several minutes of eavesdropping, it was starting to make sense.
* * *
The Bennet Home
The Same Night
