“What guys? At school?”
Richard shrugged and dropped the sword to his side. “Yeah. Guys I know. I’m pretty popular, you know.” Will grinned at that. He’d certainly noticed how many kids hung out around Richard before and after school. Somehow they hadn’t figured out how much of a jerk he could be. Or they didn’t care. “Plenty of eighth graders remember me. They leaving you alone?”
Will took the risk of lifting his shirt to wipe his face. He was relieved when Richard didn’t take advantage. “Guess so. Nobody’s said anything. They ask about, you know, what it was like before. No biggie.”
“Probably helps that you’re tall.”
It probably did. Richard was pretty tall, too, but at 5’8” at age thirteen, Will was as much as a head taller than some of the boys in his grade. Dad speculated that Will would be several inches over six feet tall when he reached his full height.
When their sword fight had ended with both boys bruised and sweaty, they sat on the bank of the creek.
“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Richard asked.
Will shook his head. “Oh, no, you’re not getting me in trouble with Mom. She said it’s too cold to go swimming today.”
Richard let out a gusty sigh. “Man, I’m so hot. It can’t be that cold. It’s still September.”
“Technically, it’s fall now,” Will said.
“Whatever.” Richard rolled his eyes. “Technically, if I knock you in, you wouldn’t be swimming, you’d be . . . not drowning.”
“And if I pull you in with me?”
“Also not technically swimming. It’s, like, lifesaving. Or something.”
They both looked at each other for a minute. Then Richard gave Will a hard shove, and Will grabbed Richard’s ankle just before he flipped over the bank. They both hit the water with a crash, and water shot up Will’s nose.
Richard cursed. “It’s really cold! I’m getting out!”
Will dragged himself up the bank after him, snorting to clear his sinuses. “Mom might have been right. Don’t tell her, though.”
“You can’t ever tell parents that they were right.” Richard shoved Will with his shoulder, almost knocking him right back in. “It goes straight to their heads.”
December 2003
Will’s height and his new name was enough to keep him out of trouble for the first few months of school. That was, until December of his first year at Westminster.
They were studying genetics, learning about Mendel and inheritance of different traits. Everybody had to turn to a classmate and fill out a form for whether they had detached earlobes, a widow’s peak, could curl their tongue, and other things like that.
Will dutifully filled out the chart without giving it much thought until lunchtime.
“So, Will,” Andy said, “find out anything interesting in science?”
Will just looked at him, puzzled.
“I mean,” he said, “could you figure out which one of your mom’s boyfriends was your father? Or were there too many possibilities?”
Will clenched his fists under the table. “Stop,” was all he could manage to say. It hurt mostly because it was true. She had had a lot of boyfriends. And he had no idea who his father was.
Andy laughed. “Well, at least you have some clues to start with. You know your father had detached earlobes and no widow’s peak, or whatever, right? I mean, you can eliminate half the men in Talbot now. That’s a lot more than you knew before!”
Will saw red. He launched himself across the table at Andy, hitting him with a closed fist.
Andy, it seemed, had been expecting it. He was ready and waiting to fight Will back. Will had been in plenty of fights with Richard, but never with such intensity. He hurt everywhere, and he didn’t even know whether he was landing punches successfully, he just kept grabbing and hitting until suddenly, they were pulled apart.
He was bright red, he knew, and his color didn’t fade the whole time he was in the headmaster’s office. He’d always been a “good kid.” Back when he was living with his mom, he couldn’t afford to be anything else. If he’d gotten in trouble and people had taken a good look at his living situation, he might have been taken away from her. And here, he’d wanted to make a good impression on his teachers.
But here he was, in the headmaster’s office, a place he’d never been in his entire life, and all because stupid Andy couldn’t keep his fat mouth shut about his mother.
“Chivalry,” he blurted out when the headmaster stopped lecturing. He almost groaned when he realized what he’d said. How lame could he get. Chivalry? Really?
Mr. Sanders stared at him. “Pardon?”
“It was about chivalry,” he said, attempting a recovery. “Standing up for what’s right and protecting ladies.”
“Ladies,” Andy scoffed. “His mom was no lady.”
Mr. Sanders glared at Andy. “Is that what this was about?”
“He’s just being a suck-up,” Andy said, “with his stupid chivalry thing. It was just a fight.”
“He was saying stuff about my mom,” Will said. “My first mom. She’s dead and can’t stand up for herself.”
Mr. Sanders sighed. “If that’s true, Will, then I applaud your dedication to chivalry, but . . . not by fistfights, and not in my lunchroom.”
“I was the one who was physically threatened!” Andy said. “He’s half a head taller than me!”
“Aren’t we lucky you both survived without major injury?” Mr. Sanders said dryly. “I’ve called both sets of parents, and they’re coming to pick you up.
Will sank down in his seat. Crap. They’d called his parents. What would his parents think about him getting in a fistfight to defend his mom? His first mom, that was. Would they regret . . . no, he wasn’t going to go down that path.
“You called my parents, too?” Andy said, turning bright red. “I didn’t do anything! He hit me first!”
Mr. Sanders leaned forward. “Are you claiming that Will is lying when he says that you insulted his mother?”
Andy didn’t meet the headmaster’s eyes.
“I’ll take that as a no. So in a way, you threw the first punch.”
Andy rolled his eyes.
“Will, would you step outside for a moment?” Mr. Sanders said, not taking his eyes off Andy.
Will stepped outside his office to the waiting area, but he could still clearly hear what the headmaster was saying inside.
“Your sister is in the Lower School, I know.”
“So what?” Andy asked sullenly.
“You’d never lie to me and tell me the two of you always get along, would you?”
“So what if we don’t?”
“And yet if Will had been the one to insult her, I’d imagine you would have thrown the first punch.”
Andy seemed to have decided on his favorite phrase. “So what?”
“So what, indeed,” Mr. Sanders said. “I just want to remind you to watch your words. You can’t always hide behind your headmaster. Words do real damage. And I know it’s an overused word these days, but I’d hate to have to talk to your parents about bullying. Got it?”
Will leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. Mr. Sanders seemed to understand why Will had to fight back. At least, he didn’t think the headmaster held it against him, even if he didn’t like Will attacking Andy over it.
When Andy was sent out to wait outside and it was Will’s turn, Mr. Sanders didn’t look angry. He just looked disappointed.
“I’m disappointed in you, Will,” he started, and Will sighed. He had a feeling disappointment was going to end up being worse than anger.
Will looked down at his feet, which he scuffed on the floor. He’d probably be made to polish them later. Stupid shoes.
“Words are just words. And yes, I know what Andy said was incredibly provoking and very cruel. And you were justified in being angry at him. But Will, words are not the same as a physical attack, and not being able to think of the words to defend your
self is not justification for fighting back with fists. Do you understand?”
Will nodded without looking up.
“Go on out to the waiting area until your parent gets here. I don’t want to see you in here again for fighting, you hear me?”
He gave another nod as he walked out.
To his surprise, it was his dad who appeared to pick him up.
“You had to leave work?” he asked in dismay. “Why didn’t Mom come?”
His dad shrugged. “She hasn’t been feeling well and wasn’t up to coming to get you, so I said I would.”
Will looked down. “Oh.”
His father didn’t say anything until after he’d signed him out and they were in the car on the way home.
“The headmaster told me why you were fighting,” he said finally.
Will nodded. His throat was too closed up to speak.
“Will, I’m sure you’re already beating yourself up for letting yourself be goaded into a fight,” he started.
Will nodded again, turning his head towards the window so his father wouldn’t see his eyes welling up.
“But at the same time, I’m proud of you for standing up for your mother. I know that she had a lot of problems, and maybe sometimes you resented her for that. I know I would have, in your place.”
Will shrugged.
“She was still your mother, and I know you loved her. And it’s never easy to hear somebody criticize somebody you love.”
“It was true, though,” Will muttered. “She did have a lot of boyfriends. I don’t know which one was my father. Probably somebody I never met. She didn’t usually date them for very long. He was probably long gone before I was born. I mean, that makes her a . . . I mean . . .”
“There are lots of bad words that you’ll probably hear,” his dad said gently. “But you don’t have to use them. She was your mother, and she loved you as best she could.”
He shrugged.
“I bet Andy took you off guard, bringing her up.”
“Yeah,” Will whispered.
“So maybe you should think about how you should respond if it happens again.”
“What should I do?” Will asked.
His dad shrugged. “I don’t know. In the end, you’re the one who has to respond. But you can plan now, not in the heat of the moment. And, news flash, it can’t involve getting into a fistfight.”
“I wish that people didn’t have to know I was adopted,” Will said bitterly. “It would be easier if they just thought I was your son, period.”
“Easier, perhaps. But life’s not about being easy.”
“Grown-ups always say that.” Will sighed.
His dad laughed. “Your life before you were adopted is part of you. You lived much longer as George Wickham than you have so far as Fitzwilliam Darcy. No matter how long you live, George Wickham will always be a part of Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
Will gave his father a quick smile before he turned back to the window.
Lizzy. She was the most important part of his life as George Wickham.
“There was this girl,” he began. “From before, I mean.”
“That’s right,” his dad said, “I remember you said a girl gave you that book you were reading when we met. Was that her?”
“Yeah. That was from Lizzy. She was . . . I don’t know how to describe her. But she saved me. I never used to read, you know. Thought it was stupid. But I met her at the park, and she used to . . . she used to bring me food. I think she knew I was hungry, but she never said it like that. She would just say that she brought food because I hadn’t had time to go home after school, that sort of thing. So she’d feed me, and then she’d read to me. I thought it was stupid at first, but then I got really into it.”
The words just kept pouring out like a flood.
“So then she started having me read to myself, and she’d give me books to take home. Easy books at first, because I couldn’t read as well as she could, and she was something like two years younger. But every book I read, I got better. So I could read Jules Verne by the time you met me.”
“Where is she now?” his dad asked softly.
“I don’t know. She left. Moved out of Talbot, I think she said to Wakefield, but I don’t know where. She didn’t know where she was moving to. They were going to stay in a hotel. And I was living at the shelter at the time, so I didn’t have an address. So I don’t even know how to find her. She might not even remember me now.”
“Oh, I’m sure she’d remember you. You can’t have that much impact on somebody without them having an impact on you as well, you know.”
He smiled. “She used to make me play with her, stories out of books, that sort of thing. She’d get me to chase her through the woods or up the playground, or we’d hide in the playground tunnel or sword fight with sticks or leap across the little drainage ditch like it was a creek.”
“Not unlike you and Richard now, then.”
“She was actually a lot like Richard.”
“You know,” his dad said thoughtfully, “if you know her full name, we might be able to look her up, see if we can find an address or phone number. Would you like to do that?”
The thought sent shivers down his spine. He’d love to see her again, talk to her, write to her. Tell her what he was reading, how much he loved books now, how he’d met Mr. Darcy because of a shared love of books, and how that had led to his current happiness.
But what if he was wrong? What if she didn’t remember him? What if she had moved on with life and wasn’t interested in talking to him or reading to him?
“I don’t know,” he finally said.
His dad parked the car in the driveway. After he’d put on the parking brake, he gave Will a gentle punch on the shoulder. “Buck up,” he said. “She’ll remember you. I know she will.”
Will gave him a weak smile as they went into the house.
Unfortunately, it was not as easy to find a Bennet as one might think. There were no Bennets in Wakefield. There were many Bennets in Virginia, and many more around the country. Dad called a few phone numbers they found, and Will even got up his nerve to call a few. But none knew an Elizabeth who had four sisters. There was one college professor in California who cursed and hung up on him when he asked, and an old lady in North Carolina who kept asking him to repeat all his questions at the top of his lungs.
After they’d exhausted all the Bennets they could find, Will’s dad helped him work out what school district Elizabeth must have attended in Talbot. He called the school and used what influence he could, to no avail. The school didn’t know where they’d moved to. The Wakefield school district either didn’t have any record of an Elizabeth Bennet, or they were unwilling to tell them.
“I’m sorry, son,” Will’s dad said. “But I think we’ve done what investigating we reasonably can. Who knows, maybe one day you’ll run into her again.”
Will closed his eyes and nodded. There was only so much he could expect his father to do. A part of him, a very small part, was relieved. He could keep Elizabeth as a bright memory from his past, and not worry that she wouldn’t fit in his future.
Georgiana
January 2004
Soccer season started as soon as school was back in session after the new year, and Will was thrilled to join the team. He hadn’t been sure that his limited experience would be enough, but he’d put in an effort to practice over the summer and fall, and his height and long legs were a definite advantage. The coach favored putting him in as goalkeeper, which he was happy with. He adored diving for the ball and prided himself on his ability to stop corner balls that other goalkeepers couldn’t reach.
His favorite teammate was Charles Bingley, a seventh grader who usually played defense. Charlie was one of the happiest people Will knew. He was on the short side, but he was really fast and great at footwork. He was a bit of a clown off the field, but he knew when it was time to be serious.
Charlie was also new at the school. His father was an entrep
reneur, rather like Will’s father, but had only just become successful enough to afford to send his kids to Westminster in the past year. Charlie had two twin sisters in the Lower School.
“They’re brats,” Charlie confided in Will as they walked to the pitch one afternoon. “You know the whole ‘the dog ate my homework’ thing? Well, they’ve totally destroyed my homework more than once.”
“How?”
Charlie shrugged. “Ripping it up, drawing on it, spilling SpaghettiOs on it, whatever. On purpose, too. It’s not like they’re toddlers. Lisa just thinks it’s funny, but Caroline does it to get me in trouble with Mom.”
Will couldn’t even imagine. “That’s crap. What does your mom do?”
“She just tells me to quit leaving it out when I’m done with it.” Charlie sighed. “It doesn’t help. Caroline goes into my backpack to get it. Mom doesn’t believe me.”
Will was horrified.
Charlie caught his look and laughed. “Oh, don’t look so freaked out, Will. I’ve found better hiding places now. Sometimes I forget, but she only does it occasionally anyway. And I do what homework I can during study hall or before practice, and then I leave it here.”
“You can come over to my house whenever you want,” Will offered. “We can do it together.”
Will’s house had been quieter than usual lately. His mother was heavily pregnant, due in April, but the pregnancy was taking its toll on her. She’d had morning sickness for most of the pregnancy, and the doctor had been threatening to put her on bed rest due to some other sort of difficulties.
Will tried to keep things quiet around the house so as not to disturb his mother. He went over Richard’s a few times after school, but Richard was starting to get busy with homework now that he was in Upper School, and his schedule for JV soccer didn’t align well with Will’s. So Will was thrilled to have a new friend.
Charlie wasn’t very interested in going on adventures the way Richard had been. But he was happy to practice soccer anytime with Will, or eat pizza and watch movies. Will tried to take him fishing at the creek behind the house once, but Charlie didn’t do “quiet” very well. Fortunately, the noise didn’t bother Mom as long as they were outside or in the rec room.
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