Pride & Pre-Med Curriculum

Chapter 8

"Are you sure you don't want to put on some makeup or fix your hair before we go out, Lizzy?  We can wait." Mrs. Bennet fussed at her.

"Mom!  I look fine.  I am not getting glammed up just to walk around campus with you.  I don't know why you even need me anyway.  Jane is much better at playing tour guide and can answer all your  questions."

"Of course you have to come with us.  We hardly ever see you anymore, Lizzy.  We would like to have the pleasure of your company."  Mr. Bennet said, snipping her nose affectionately.  He was looking down at her, as always, with a soft look of adoration.  Lizzy could do no wrong in this man's eyes.  He leaned a bit closer and whispered in her ear conspiratorily. 

"Besides, if you don't keep me company, I might have to speak to your mother!  Horror!"  He grinned before mischieviously pulling a mock scared face.  Lizzy's grimace cracked.  The only one that never failed to bring her out of one of her black moods was her father. 

"Fine.  I guess some family bonding might not kill me." Elizabeth mumbled begrudgingly.

Just then, her sister Mary stormed in.  "This place is a dump!  There was trash out on the street, the library is a joke and they don't even have a Starbucks nearby!  It may be good enough for Jane and Lizzy, but I can certainly do better." 

Lizzy grimaced, reconsidering.  On the other hand . . . it might kill her.

"I'm terribly sorry if you have to 'slum it' and settle for a state college, Mary, but I'm afraid unless you are ready to cough up the tuition yourself, you'll just have to settle for a bleak world devoid of Starbucks.  I'm sure they have a support group to help you cope."  Mr. Bennet said with a dramatic bent. 

"I don't know why I can't go to Harvard or Princeton.  If you really loved me-"

"Oh, good grief.  Not this again!"  Mrs. Bennet was exasperated with her middle daughter.  They had had this argument many times.  "They have some of the most eligible young men in the country here.  And they don't go around with their noses in the air, trading on family names and contacts and holding themselves above self made people who had to scrape and claw their way to where they are now." 

"Mum, does my education mean nothing?  How can you compare a resume with a degree from here to one with a Harvard diploma?  And who cares about the guys.  All college guys are stuck up, immature twits that think with their-"

"Stop being so negative, Mary.  It's not that bad.  They have a nice campus and so many impressive fraternities filled with handsome young men.  Why, I saw three or four that were very attractive and they were driving a sports cars or convertibles."  Mrs. Bennet consoled her the only was she knew how.  "Remember how I told you to find a nice young man is to watch what he drives.  Only go for the ones with cars worth over . . ."

"Oh, Mum.  You are a broken record!"  Mary shouted, exasperated.

"Why doesn't she just ask for a bank statement from them, Mother?"  Lizzy interrupted, disgusted as she observed the conversation.  Of course, it was one she had argued with her mother herself in the past.  She had heard the same thing for years.  Sit up straight.  Comb your hair.  Smile.  Catch a rich husband.  Blah Blah Blah. 

"Did someone mention young men?"  Lydia swept into the room with a child-like cackle, clutching a few scraps of paper.  Her long dark hair had been blown and teased into an amorphous cloud floating about her face.  Her skinny jeans were so tight, Lizzy wondered that she could breathe, let alone move about.  She wore a stylish cropped leather jacket over a tank that showed much of her cleavage.  Her expertly applied make-up made her look much older than her sixteen years.