Pomp And Circumstance [COMPLETE]

Chapter Thirteen

Darcy waited. But nothing happened. For three days, nothing but silence. Her brain tried convincing her that she had put her letter in the wrong locker, that she had completely exposed herself and her family's secrets to a complete stranger and that Eli would continue to hate her for the wrong reasons.

But no. She counted. Every day that week at school, she counted the lockers, double-checked when he was grabbing books between classes. It was the right locker. She was sure of it.

And yet, silence.

Miss Austin had them rearrange seats again in her English class so now the two of them sat on opposite sides of the room. If it wasn't for Charlie's continual chatter about her rekindled relationship with Jamie, Darcy would have gone mad trying to decipher exactly what Eli was thinking about her every single waking moment.

It helped that Charlie talked a lot. And frequently. Prom was brought up multiple times as it was soon approaching and Charlie had yet to find a dress. She had also yet to ask Jamie to go with her but that was part of the chatter, her plans for how she was going to ask him.

Lunchtimes were the worst to endure as the library was dead quiet and there wasn't a single sound to distract Darcy from the continual merry-go-round of thoughts ran around her head. By that Friday she was exhausted from being ignored, from overthinking every single word of the long letter, so much so that she was starting to forget what she had even said.

She tried reading a piece the Boston Globe had done on her family's gallery. It had been a big deal when the reporter and photographer had shown up at the studio a few weeks ago to take pictures of the staff and to interview Lois and then Darcy herself. Darcy was just getting to the part where the writer explained how the original manager of the gallery, and one of the few remaining direct descendants of William Pemberley, its founder, had tragically passed away at a very young age, and how, with no one else to run the place, her best friend had stepped up not only to run the gallery but to raise the woman's two children as well.

It was weird reading her life story printed out in black and white for anyone to read. Finally, Darcy's brain had found something engaging enough to think on other than Eli that she didn't notice that someone had approached her table.

It wasn't until they cleared their throat and asked, "Is anyone sitting here?" that Darcy finally looked up and found Eli standing opposite her.

She had no words. For the first time all week, she had not a single thought. Shock had thrown them all out all at once. All she could do was nod.

He took the seat opposite and started eating lunch as if he did this every day. Darcy waited for him to speak, to acknowledge the letter, anything. But he didn't. He pulled out a notebook and then a textbook and started studying while slowly munching away on a packed lunch.

Darcy tried returning to the article but it was no use. She waited with bated breath for any move, gesture, word, anything to come from the other side of the table. It finally did when the bell to end their lunch period rang and Eli packed up. He left with a "See you later" and Darcy was glued to her seat, wondering whether she had hallucinated the whole thing or not.

She kept wondering, all through the weekend. All while working at the gallery the next day. The article had done wonders for business and so Darcy was kept busy most of the day but it didn't stop her from zoning out when she had a free moment to try and remember whether or not Eli really had sat with her during lunch.

Darcy had fully convinced herself it was a dream by the time Monday's lunch period rolled around again. And then Eli appeared to throw a wrench right in the middle of all her hard work. He didn't ask to sit this time but instead took the seat only one away from Darcy's.