After everyone was asleep, I snuck downstairs to the small desk I’d spotted in a little nook off the sitting room and pilfered some paper and pen and ink.
My name is Kelsey Edmundson.
I will wake up in my own apartment, in Anaheim, CA.
No time will have passed.
If I hung around for a few days I could probably set myself up for months of partying it up Regency England style at a beach resort. But the thought of spending any more time than necessary as Lydia literally made me sick to my stomach.
I crept back up the steps to the second floor lighting my way with a candle I’d purloined, stopping long enough to look into a mirror. Lydia was very pretty, though her features weren’t as fine as Jane’s. Her eyes were wide and dark. In fat, they were a lot like Lizzy’s. For the first time it occurred to me that Wickham had ruined Lydia because she looked enough like the sister he was really interested in to make it exciting. I felt the bile rise in my throat and turned from the mirror.
Kitty and Mary were both sleeping soundly as I tiptoed back into the bedroom. I felt bad for Mary who was forced to spend so much of her time with such an annoying pair of sisters. It probably made poor Mary even more…well, Mary. I crawled into Lydia’s bed, placing the neatly folded paper bearing my real name under my pillow.
~
“Charlie and his poker group are going to come over tonight and watch a movie,” Tori announced.
“The whole group? What’s that like six guys?” I didn’t bother to look up from my book. After waking up from my little field trip as Lydia Bennet, of all characters, I’d gone on a postmodern library binge and checked out every book that even mentioned blurring the lines between fiction and reality. So far I hadn’t found anything that sounded like my own experience. I’d hit kind of a dead end with my internet research too. There were books and short stories written about people who jump into novels, more of them than I’d expected, actually, but nothing with anyone claiming to have actually
done
it.
Though, based on Tori’s reaction when I’d tried to explain it to her after I had popped back into the real world the first time, I could see why people would keep mum. Unless they
wanted
to end up in the crazy bin. But maybe people had experienced it, and instead of talking about it, had written stories about it. You know, like how some people thought that H.G. Wells really had time travelled.
I was grasping at straws. But it was better than grasping at nothing.
“Yeah, six or seven, I’m not sure,” she answered. I could feel her eyeing the cover of the book I was reading. She was probably still concerned I was delusional.
“Oh.” I glanced up at her finally registering the concerned note in her voice. “Are you here warning me because that Mark guy will be coming?”
“Yeah,” she crossed her arms and leaned against my doorjamb. “I just wanted to let you know, ‘cause you haven’t seen him since the Ashley incident. You seemed a little...shaken up...after that.”
“Hmm, yeah, no, I’m fine,” I said absent-mindedly. My eyes had drifted back to the book. The heroine had finally made it into her novel within a novel. It was a classic too, though not
Pride and Prejudice
. In her case it seemed like a thing some people were just able to do in her alternate universe society.
“Kelsey!” I realized that Tori had called my name more than once and I glanced up guiltily.
“Sorry.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. I attempted to look innocent. And as not-crazy as possible.
“He’s not dating Ashley.”
“Huh?”
"Mark. He didn’t go out or anything with her. I just thought you should know.” She was still squinting at me like a specimen under a microscope. Waiting for me to show signs of emotional or mental distress.
“That’s smart of him. He seemed like he had a decent head on his shoulders,” I answered noncommittally. Really, if Mark wanted to date Ashley it was no business of mine. Yeah, it might make it kind of awkward to have him around but I had bigger fish to fry at the moment. Like the fact that I seemed to be able to jump into characters in my favorite novel.
I realized my attitude was a complete reversal from my earlier position on the whole Mark/Ashley situation. But that was two novel jumps and a month in Regency England ago. Although I realized to Tori it had just been a week ago.
“I’m fine. I’m not saying I want to hang out with Ashley or something, but she’s not the reason Jordan and I broke up. Well, she may have been the catalyst, but she was a symptom, not a cause. I’m not going to get all uptight around a guy just ‘cause Ashley’s come on to him. I’d never be able to go to any alumni events if that were the case.”
“All very true.” Tori gave me another once over and then smiled. “Well, there’s going to be pizza and stuff so feel free to come out of your Kelsey cave and mingle. Or at least eat.”
“Yeah, sure,” I answered, but my eyes had already drifted back to my book.
"Come out to the coast, we'll get together, have a few laughs..."
I didn’t want
to admit it, but I could tell the minute Mark arrived. His deep, rumbly voice carried through the whole house. Not that he was loud or obnoxious sounding. He was probably more laid back and quiet than all of the other boisterous guys I could hear in the front room. But something about his voice just cut through the rest of them.
Not that I was listening for it or anything. I wasn’t interested in him. It wasn’t my fault his voice sounded like warm honey. It also sounded annoying cheerful. All the time. Nobody was really that consistently happy.
I ignored the small voice of reason that whispered I’d only met him twice, so condemning him as being too fake-happy was probably unfair, and glared at the wall that separated my bedroom from the living room full of men. I heard Mark's voice again, followed by a burst of male laughter and I ground my teeth in frustration. There was no way I was going to get any reading done. Not that I’d admit to myself that it was because I was straining to make out what Mark was saying.
I closed my book with a sigh. It wasn’t really helping with my “research” anyway. There weren’t really any similarities between me and the main character other than the ability to get into a novel.
I stopped to check my reflection in the mirror over my dresser. Yikes. I smoothed my blonde hair back into a ponytail which helped a little bit. I reached for the makeup bag sitting on the dresser and then stopped myself. I wasn’t trying to impress anyone. I was just hanging out in my own apartment on a weekend. There was no reason for me to primp and preen.
Our small living room was crammed with male bodies. I tried not to seem like I was specifically looking for Mark. He wasn’t hard to find, he was sitting on the couch, holding a paper plate with pizza on it and chatting with Rick. Argh. Rick I would rather avoid. I veered off into the kitchen were Tori was doling out the pizza.
“Here.” She handed me a slice.
“Thanks,” I stood there uncertainly for a moment and she gave me a wink and a small shove back out into the living room.
I wandered casually in the direction of the couch, though that required stepping over several pairs of guy legs.
“Kelsey!” Rick had spotted me. “Here, have my seat.”
“Thanks.” I sat in Rick’s recently vacated spot of the couch. He sat on the arm of the couch, really too uncomfortably close for my liking. But the trade off was I got to sit next to Mark.
“Hi.” I was going for casual acquaintance and not “last time I saw you I ran off ‘cause I saw a slutty girl I know draped all over you.”
“Hey.” Mark smiled at me, his dark eyes warm. Was it possible I’d forgotten, in just a week, how ridiculously hot he was? Apparently, yes. I could actually feel my brain turning to jelly. “We seem to be making a habit of invading your apartment.”
“At least this time I’m actually dressed for the occasion, and not in my pajamas.” I pulled a funny face.
Mark chuckled. He really did have the most amazing laugh. It made me want to be witty and clever just so I could keep hearing it.
“I thought you looked great,” Rick said eagerly.
I grimaced. “Thanks for the compliment, untrue as it may be.”
“No, really, you have great legs.” Rick blurted out, then a dull red infused his cheeks. I sincerely hope that he’d meant to only think that and not say it out loud. I resisted the urge to look down at my shorts-clad legs, or to turn to see if Mark was looking at them. “Um, you don’t have a drink, do you want a Coke? I can go get you one,” Rick added hastily.
“That’d be great,” I said sincerely.
“Be right back.” Rick bounded across the room in the direction of the kitchen and after a moment, I breathed an audible sigh of relief.
“He’s not a bad bloke.” Mark broke the silence.
“Rick’s a nice guy. But then, he isn’t making awkward comments about your legs.”
Mark laughed again. “True. I could see how that would change one’s perspective.”
I smiled back and looked up to where Charlie and another guy I didn’t know were engrossed in debate in front of the DVD player. “What movie are you guys watching?”
“Last I heard it was the latest
Die Hard
, though I think Derek was lobbying for
Tron: Legacy
.”
I rolled my eyes. “I hope Charlie wins. I love
Die Hard
.”
“Really? Not a lot of girls do.”
I gave him a mock glare. “I am not a lot of girls. I adore McClane. You know, ‘on a good day he’s a great cop, on a bad day—’”
“‘He’s the best there is.’” Mark finished for me.
“Damn straight.” I grinned. I was doing it! I was having a normal, almost flirty conversation with Mark Barnes.
“Here’s your Coke, Kelsey.”
I resisted the urge to yell at Rick to go away. “Thanks,” I said instead as I accepted the cold can.
A silence settled over the three of us.
“Do you have a movie preference?” Mark asked Rick over my head. “Kelsey was just telling me she prefers
Die Hard
.”
“Oh, that’s awesome. I love the
Die Hard
movies.” Rick leaned closer to me. I surreptitiously scooted closer to Mark and answered Rick with a nod. I didn’t want to encourage him.
The great movie debate was finally decided and Tori flicked off the overhead lights. I kept hoping that Rick would move away from. Like, sit on the floor or something, but he somehow kept getting closer and closer to me. I’d scooted so far across the couch that I was nearly touching Mark by the time the opening credits scrolled on. I’m not sure what was making me more edgy, Rick, or my proximity to Mark. Okay, that’s a lie. It was totally Mark. He smelled amazing. His profile was ridiculous: strong jaw and nose. Though now that I was this close, I could see a small bump near the bridge of his nose, like maybe it had been broken at one point. Somehow it made him seem even sexier. I turned back to the screen and tried not think about draping myself all over him
à la
Ashley.
I shouldn’t have thought about Ashley. The image of her with her red claws digging into Mark's arm popped into my mind and refused to leave. Tori had said that he wasn’t seeing her, but what did Tori know?
Rick moved even closer to me. He was pretty much off the couch arm now and completely onto the couch. He was also basically pressed up against my right side. But I was frozen.
“You’ve still got a few inches,” Mark said in a low voice. I swallowed and glanced over at him. He nodded to the small space between us and then looked significantly past me at Rick.
If I moved I’d be pressed up against him. The thought had appeal, but I couldn’t get the image of Ashley caressing his arm out of my head. “Sorry, I’m not like Ashley.” The snide comment was out before I could call it back. I saw his eyes widen in surprise. I should have just apologized. I should have tried to make it into a joke. Okay, that probably wouldn’t have worked. But I should have done something. Instead I just sat silently as he shrugged and turned back to the movie.
I sat through another fifteen minutes of the movie, Rick breathing down my neck on one side, and Mark completely ignoring me on the other. Then I quietly got up, dumped my pizza in the kitchen trash and snuck off to my room and back to my books.
~
I stood uncertainly outside the large double-doored entrance to McKinney's pub. I was still not sure how I'd let myself be talked into going on a blind date. But Tori had been persistent. Really, when wasn't she persistent? I'd given in this time because I had been hoping it would stop her from worrying about me. She could obviously tell I wasn't over my "little
Pride and Prejudice
fixation" in spite of my best efforts to act normal around her.
So here I was, about to go on my first date since Jerkface Jordan. I closed my eyes for a moment in a silent prayer that the evening would not be a complete disaster and reached for the handle of the door.
"Here, let me," a deep voice said from beside me. A deep, sexily accented voice that I probably would have known anywhere. I snapped my eyes open. There was a large hand on the door handle, pulling it open. A large hand that was attached to a very muscular, and familiar, arm.
Oh no, no, no, no
. I glanced up in shock.
Mark.
He looked amazing. Really, really amazing. Like slacks and a button up shirt that fit way too well to be from a department store, amazing. He could not possibly be getting those clothes on a teacher's salary could he? He must be so much better with money management than I was.
"Kelsey?" Mark looked down at me in surprise. He was holding the door open, but neither of us was moving. I was frozen with shock and a dawning feeling of dread. "I'm sorry, I didn't recognize you."
That was lowering. I briefly rallied, thinking it was probably because I usually looked like something the cat dragged in around Mark, but I'd made an effort tonight. He just didn't recognize me ‘cause I was looking totally hot. Then I remembered he'd seen me in my mini skirt/boots combo. Tonight's jeans and slightly off one shoulder sweater did not begin to measure up.
"Oh," I managed.
What witty repartee, Kelsey. You're going to earn a conversational award with that comeback
. "I...uh..." And that's when it hit me. I was here for a blind date. Set up by Tori. My friend. My soon-to-be-former friend.
Mark took in my face—eyes wide, mouth hanging slightly open. I'm sure I looked like a fish gasping for air. I could tell the moment it hit him too. His eyes narrowed and something…odd... flashed in their dark brown depths. To his credit he didn't turn around and run, screaming, back to the parking lot. "I take it you're my date for the evening?" He even managed a smile.
"I'm guessing so." I was proud of how casual my reply sounded. Until I realized we were both still standing in the doorway of McKinney's, Mark still holding the door open for me. "Sorry," I muttered and walked into the pub. He followed, letting the door close behind us. The sound of it shutting seemed somehow final to me and I turned quickly toward him.
"Look," I said, “you don't have to have dinner with me. You were obviously brought here under false pretenses." I actually shudder to think what Charlie had told him about the girl he was setting him up with. I could only hope that the terms "desperate" and "recently cheated on" had not been used. Whatever it was Charlie had said, it obviously hadn't been “Oh, and by the way, it's Tori's roommate, Kelsey.”
"If you want to just call it a night, I'm totally okay with that, I mean, don't feel like it'd be hurting my feelings or anything." I was rambling.
Stop talking, Kelsey.
Mark was still looking at me with that sort of half smile. "Kelsey, it's just dinner. I don't have a problem with it if you don't." He raised an eyebrow at me. I took it as a challenge. I'm not sure why. Maybe he was just trying to get me to bow out so he didn't have to be the one to do it. More likely, I was reading way too much into everything and he was just being a nice guy. I'm not sure why the idea of Mark having dinner with me just because he was a nice guy bothered me so much. But it did.
"Sure, let's have dinner," I heard myself saying.
As I slid into the booth across from Mark I was already regretting my decision. I don't know what it was about him, but I just had this sense that whenever I was near him I would end making myself look like a total idiot. I folded my hands on my lap under the table. I was committed to not knocking any drinks on myself tonight.
After we gave our orders to the waitress, silence descended on our table.
"So, uh, how do you like teaching?" I finally asked.
Mark's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. "Love it.”
“Did always want to be a teacher? You don’t really seem the type.” I hoped that didn't come out as condescending as I thought it did.
“More the dumb jock type?”
Oh man, it
had
come out that condescending.
"I'm sorry, it was more a commentary on my high school teachers than on you.” There was a bit of an awkward pause, after which I added “And I suppose my high school teachers are now your colleagues, so I should probably just stop talking.”
Mark shrugged, letting me off the hook. “I did sort of fall into it in school. I just ended up loving history. A professor of mine suggested I pursue a teaching degree. I was just as surprised as anyone that I ended up enjoying it so much.”
“I think it’s awesome. I wish more teachers really loved what they do.”
“Yeah, I agree. If someone decides to teach just because they can't figure out what to do with their degree, then they're probably the last people that should be in front of a classroom."
I fought the blush that was trying to make its way onto my face. I wasn't going to admit to him that I'd thought about teaching for that very reason. But the ever practical Kelsey had gone for earning more useless degrees instead. Not that I had any plans for what I was going to do with my MA.
“So have you always wanted to get your Masters in Literature?” he asked.
Why did he have to ask that? Could he hear my thoughts somehow? Was I usually this paranoid?
“I’ve always loved literature,” I hedged. “The written word is powerful.
Stories
are powerful. They tell us about ourselves, our society, but they also have the ability to take us away from ourselves...to immerse us in other worlds.” I realized I was leaning forward earnestly. Way, way too earnestly. And gesturing with my hands like someone proselytizing on a street corner. I sat back and folded my hands back into my lap.
That odd light was back in Mark's eye. “That’s one of the things I love about history.” he said. The waitress appeared again and slid our plates of food onto the table. “Thanks.” He smiled up at her. A predatory look crossed her face. I could tell she’d weighed and measured me and decided I wasn’t a real threat.
“No problem,” she purred. I raised my eyebrows. Threat or not, I was sitting right in front of her. Did women just always throw themselves at him this way? I’d seen it that night at the party and again with Ashley. Mark didn’t seem to be in any need of help in the dating department. I had no idea what Charlie had told him to get him to go on this blind date.