Epic Adventures of Lydia Bennet (9781476763248) (39 page)

I stayed standing at the end of the booth, filing that reasoning under “maybe acceptable.” Violet finally glanced away from Mary and up at me.

“Hi! I'm Lydia,” I introduced myself, sticking my hand out toward the girl I had, as Mary pointed out earlier, met a bunch of times before. “You must be Violet.”

Mary cut Violet off before she could do more than look suddenly and utterly confused. “She's pretending she's never met you before because she considers the you who worked with me at the coffee shop a different person than the you who . . . doesn't work with me at the coffee shop,” she stumbled. “Just ignore her.”

“Oh, okay, I get it,” Violet said. “But there's a flaw in your logic. The me you met earlier today in Mary's apartment is the same”—she shot a look at Mary before continuing—“me who doesn't work at the coffee shop. So you've still already met me. And you didn't even introduce yourself.”

I stared at Violet.

She stared back.

“I like her!” I announced, and slid into the seat across from them. “But you both have a weird hang-up about saying you're dating.”

“So you told her,” Violet acknowledged. “Cool.”

“You didn't tell her you told me?” I asked Mary.

“I thought you did when you stole her number out of my phone and texted her to meet us here.”

“First, I stole her number months ago, get it right. And B, this sounds like a communication issue,” I pointed out. “Communication is crucial for a successful relationship.”

“Oh my God, stop trying to analyze us.” Mary groaned.

“Actually, she's doing it pretty well,” Violet said, winking at me.

“I just want you two to have the best shot at making this work,” I said.

“We aren't test subjects in your Intro to Psych class.”

“Well, if you'd prefer, we can always talk about what I learned on a weird YouTube spiral instead.”

“NO!” Mary yelped. I couldn't stop myself from grinning, and noticed Violet was doing the same.

“It's just so easy to get under her skin,” I told her.

“That it is,” she replied. “But it's cute.”

Mary dropped her head onto the table in embarrassment and I could've sworn I heard a muffled “Kill me now” emanate from under the mass of dark hair and protectively shielding arms.

“So, Violet,” I started again, ready to take full advantage of Mary's distraught and distracted state. “I know we've met before, both this incarnation of you and the previous one, but now it's time for me to really get to know you.”

She turned her full attention to me and squinted, seemingly analyzing the situation.

“Okay,” she agreed. “Lightning round?”

“Lightning round.”

I settled in as Mary continued to groan in protest from her place facedown on the table.

“How many girlfriends have you had?”

“Three.”

“Boyfriends?”

“One and a half.”

“Is Violet your real name?”

“According to my parents.”

“Have you ever been convicted of a crime?”

“Negative.”

“Have you ever gotten away with one?”

“Couldn't say.”

“Been involved in a pyramid scheme?”

“Only if you count cheating on a history test in fourth grade.”

“What are your intentions with my cousin?”

“Okay!” yelled Mary, finally popping her head up. “That's enough.”

“This is your second non-friend friend ever! As your cousin and your best friend, I have every right to pry,” I insisted.

Mary raised an eyebrow. “Non-friend friend?”

“Well, I can't say second girlfriend because of Eddie, and I can't say second boyfriend, because, duh, Violet's not a boy. This is really complicated.”

“Words are the complicated part,” Violet interjected. “The rest . . . not so much.” She put her arm around Mary and pulled her in closer, tickling her shoulder. I saw Mary blush, and believe me when I say it took all my energy not to squee at the adorbs. Mary had lightened up a lot after we started getting closer last year, but I could already tell this was a side of her I never got to see.

“All right,” I conceded. “You passed the test. Just . . . don't be a dick, okay?”

“I will do my best,” Violet promised.

I turned to Mary. “That goes for you, too!”

“Hey!” she protested. “You're supposed to be on my side.”

“Always,” I reassured. “But I like her. Don't mess it up.”

“She better not,” Violet teased. “I don't want to have to replace another bass player.”

“Wait, what?” I said. Mary smiled.

“I was planning on telling you tonight, but . . .” She shrugged. “I'm officially taking over Duke's bass duties.”

“Oh my God!” I squealed for real this time. “That's so cool!”

“Thanks,” Mary replied, putting her finger to one ear. I may have been a little overenthusiastic. It happens. But this is super exciting! “It'll be nice to do something other than just accounting. I like it, but it gets a little boring being on the computer all day.”

My nerdy cousin wanting to do something other than just nerdy things. My, how far we've come.

“So . . .” I prompted, to absolutely no response. Or at least not one quick enough. These girls are way too chill in the face of awesome exciting things. “When do you play? Are you recording an album? Is there merch? You've gotta come back and do a show at Carter's!”

“One step at a time, Lydia,” Mary tried to calm me down. As if. “I have to finish learning all the current songs, and once that's set, we'll all go from there.”

“Oh, please,” Violet said. “She learned all our songs in like a week. Mary is way better than Duke could ever hope to be. And that's not just me being incredibly biased in my girlfriend's favor. We're hoping to get a gig at Central Bay College next month during one of their fall mixers.”

“That's fantastic,” I said.

“I wish you were going to be there,” Mary responded quietly.

“It's not far,” I told her. “Obviously spontaneous road trips are kind of my thing, of course I'm not gonna miss you playing in a freaking awesome rock-and-roll band! I totally get to be one of those before-they-were-famous groupies.”

“Cool.” Just a word, but I know Mary well enough to know it meant a lot to her. Assuming I, you know, followed through. Which I would. No way was I bailing on this. Except . . .

“I should probably tell you, though . . .” I started. “I don't think I'm going to be around much next year.”

“Oh?”

“There's this school in New York someone told me about”—I glanced at Violet—“with a really great psychology department. I
checked it out while I was visiting Jane and . . . I'm going to apply for the spring.”

“Really?” Mary asked. I could tell she was excited but a little hesitant. Can't say I blame her.

“Yep, I mean, I have to actually fill out the application. But I think I have a pretty good idea of what to write this time.”

“That's amazing, Lydia!” Mary's enthusiasm shone through a little more now. Or at least whatever passes for enthusiasm when it comes to Mary.

“You know, they wear a lot of black there, so you're going to have to come visit,” I said. “It's like, the call of your people.”

“I'm planning a trip back in the spring, anyway,” Violet cut in. “I'll do my best to drag Mary along. Assuming we haven't had some horrendously dramatic breakup that destroys not only our relationship, but the entire future of the band as well.”

The color drained out of Mary's face as she thought that over for a second.

“Joking. Totally joking. Too far?”

“Don't worry,” I told her. “She's always that pale. It'll work well when you guys are visiting me in the city.”

“And on that note, I think I'm going to go buy the next round of drinks since the two of you seem to have a lot to celebrate,” Violet said, motioning for a slightly recovered Mary to let her out of the booth.

“Plus you want me to like you, and the best way to do that is buying me drinks,” I added.

She laughed. “Yes, I remember.”

Mary watched her push her way through the crowd toward the bar, and I watched Mary watch her.

“You really like her?” Mary asked.

“Oh my God, you're so needy for my approval.” She kicked me lightly under the table and we both grinned. “But yes, I do. You know perfectly well that you'll never hear the end of it if I don't.”

“That's for sure.” Mary swirled the remnants of the melted ice in
her glass around with the tiny straw. “I'm really happy for you about this college thing, Lydia, if that's what you want to do. But a whole new city? Are you sure? New York is a big place.”

“That's what I liked about it,” I said, thinking back to all the cool stuff I'd gotten to see with Jane, and with Milo and Kat. And how much more there was still left to do. “Besides, Jane is there if I need her, and so is Bing. And I made a couple of new friends, too. Friends who just know me as Lydia, you know? Not the Lydia who lived in the same town her whole life, or even ‘the Lydia Bennet.' It's kind of neat.”

“I knew I recognized you!”

I turned to see a girl who looked to be a couple of years older than me step up to our table. She was wearing a Belle and Sebastian T-shirt and a string necklace with beads that read “P-A-R-I-S.” I had no idea if that was supposed to be in reference to the city or if it's her name or if she just swiped a really crappy necklace from some kid she'd been babysitting, but regardless, I didn't like where this was heading.

“Lydia Bennet,” she repeated as a guy with a button-up shirt and glasses that looked like my grandmother's came up behind her and snuck his arm around her waist. “Remember, Jordan? Duh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh, yeah!”

Wow, she actually just sang the theme song from my videos. I completely forgot I'd even had a theme song.

People from school knew I made videos, and so did other people in our town who already knew me or my family, but I'd never had someone
recognize
me from them before. A year ago, I'd have been totally eating it up. Now, it was kind of bizarre to be honest. Like opening up some time capsule buried in the backyard. And the contents are barely recognizable.

“Oh yeah!” Jordan said. “We used to watch your vids every week. I really dug the raw aesthetic. None of that overproduced, overstylized Hollywood bullshit that's infecting YouTube now. Just . . . raw, man. It was sick.”

“Um, thanks,” I said.

“Yeah, your last video was so . . .” the girl started, and I froze. Sad? Pathetic? Anticlimactic? I waited. Would they ask about George? Would they want to know why I didn't listen to what everyone online told me at the time? Sure, I'd faced my demons and whatnot today, but that didn't mean I was ready to air them out in front of an entirely random group of people at a bar. I wasn't a YouTuber anymore, after all.

“. . . sweet,” she finished. “It sucks that guy was such a dickbag. I hope you find someone way more deserving of ‘the adorbs.' ”

“Yeah,” Jordan cut in again. “You know, my brother had a friend whose other friend dated a swimmer for like a week a couple of years back, and she swears it was the same guy. My brother's friend does, I mean. She couldn't remember his name, but he was a major asshole by all accounts.”

“So tell us, did fame totally go to Kitty's head, or has she remained down-to-earth?”

I grinned. Maybe not everything about this whole being a former YouTube star thing was that terrible.

“What can I say? Kitty was born a star.”

“Really? Don't lie to me about my favorite Internet cat.”

“I feel like I'm late to the party,” Violet's voice cut through the small blockade Jordan and maybe-Paris had formed at the head of the booth as they listened to me talk about my cat's fame. “What'd I miss?”

She slid back into the booth next to Mary, drawing the attention to that side of the table.

“Oh!” the girl exclaimed. “Mary! Cousin Mary from the videos! I didn't even see you there.”

I stifled a snort to the best of my abilities and I saw Mary attempt to do the same with her classic eye roll. Violet handed her a drink and she went back to doing what she does best—ignoring other people exist. Or tried to, at least.

“Dude, is that a screwdriver?” Jordan pointed to the glass in front of Mary. “I thought you didn't drink.”

“I drink, now. I don't get drunk,” Mary said. “Overconsumption of alcohol destroys brain cells, and I happen to like my brain just the way it is.”

“Still,” he said, laughing, “bet there would be some disappointed straight-edge kids who used to look up to you.”

“Well, maybe they should acknowledge that each of us can only know an extremely finite portion of any other human and, ultimately, consider forging their own paths and being their own ‘role model' rather than asserting that title on another human being who will, inevitably, disappoint them, seeing as how both people and our knowledge of them are in a state of constant flux,” Mary calmly rattled off. “Particularly people you only know via the Internet.”

“Damn,” he said, laughing. “You are exactly like you are in the videos.”

This time Mary didn't even bother trying to hide her eye roll, and even Violet stared at the guy with more than a hint of incredulity.

Before one of us could break the awkward moment, someone waved at the duo from across the room and they took off with a “Nice to meet you” and a “Tell Kitty we adore her.”

“Friends of yours?” Violet asked both of us after probably-Paris and Jordan were out of earshot.