First Impressions

Next to her, a guy in a faded Ramones t-shirt snored quietly though appearing only as if he was glancing down at his laptop. Lizzie grinned to herself while hastily pounding away at her own keyboard, desperate to get every word down that Professor Douglas was lecturing. 

Douglas spoke in monotone, which was why Lizzie understood how half the class was asleep that late Friday afternoon. Still, if you listened carefully, the professor, in his late-sixties provided unique insights. Boring he appeared, but boring he was not.

"That's enough for today," Douglas finally brought the lecture to an end, and several students stirred. "I'll see you all next week, when midterms are over."

Lizzie pulled at her hair, groaning along with a few others at the thought of midterms. Since Northwestern was on the quarter system, they came quicker than Lizzie anticipated. At least in Ann Arbor she was given a solid two months before stressing out.

"Miss Bennet, hold on a moment," Douglas called as she walked down the stairs of the lecture hall. 

Lizzie made her way to the silver-haired, sweater-vest clad esquire, his demeanor reminding her of her own father. He carefully latched his old briefcase before turning towards Lizzie, who was slightly nervous as to why he held her back after class.

"I've been asked to teach an undergrad class next quarter," said Douglas in a grumbling voice. "A lecture, twice a week, with individualized discussion on Fridays."

"Oh," Lizzie returned, not quite sure what he was getting at. "I didn't realize you taught undergrads."

"I don't," he said. "Most law terminology goes over the heads of most seniors, let alone freshmen looking to fulfill a social studies credit!" 

His exclamation of distaste towards the class left Lizzie unresponsive, not knowing what to say.

"Anyways," he continued, beckoning her to follow him down the hall of the law building. "I'm requiring applications, and only fifteen students are allowed. It's really just a watered-down version of what we do in this class, meaning you'll be an expert once you're through in December."

"Yes, but what does that have to do with anything, sir?" Lizzie tried to comprehend Douglas' train of thought as she buttoned up her heather grey peacoat to protect against the chilly breeze.

"I'll need a T.A. for the discussion session," Douglas finally said. "You'll get paid, of course."

"A T.A.? You mean a teacher's assistant? Me?"

"No, the dimwit next to you today who slobbered all over his keyboard," Douglas' voice was slathered in sarcasm. But he continued talking as they reached outside. They were instantly exposed to shocking, fiery colors of the autumn season against the backdrop of the campus' stone buildings. "Really, I've never seen a student more interested in what I have to say than you, Bennet. Granted, I've never seen any student interested, period."

"It's just that we have a very similar perspective," Lizzie tried to offer, but he waved it away.

"Oh, I don't care if it's gibberish to most people, I'm not taking the tests for them," he scoffed. "But I do need someone who thinks the way I do; if you're interested, the job is yours." 

"It'd be an honor," Lizzie nearly gaped at Douglas. "Thank you, so much."

"I'll send you an email regarding the schedule so you'll be able to coordinate your classes," he placed a tweed newsboy cap atop his head as they stopped at the fork of the cobblestone pathway. "Just keep doing what you're doing, and it'll all turn out splendidly for you, Miss Bennet."

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"This calls for a celebratory meal!" Jane exclaimed, digging through the freezer while Lizzie grinned at her from the kitchen counter. She reached all the way to the back to pull out a familiar Trader Joe's product the sisters had come to adore since coming to Chicago. "Mushroom risotto?"

Her sister laughed, nodding while Jane started to heat up a saucepan.

"Might as well live a little before he thinks he just had a lapse of judgement," Lizzie poked fun at herself, though Jane assured her instantly that would not be the case.

"You come home from every one of those lectures in such a good mood," she chided, digging through the drawer for the wooden spoon and emptying the contents of the bag into the saucepan. "It's where you belong, really."

"It's a semester."

"Still."

The sisters settled into a comfortable silence until Lizzie heard the radiator start to kick on. Autumn was her favorite season, and she determined very quickly that being in Chicago was the best way to spend it. Though it would be gone before they knew it, Lizzie wanted to savor the time they had- raking leaves, butternut squash soup, pumpkin pie, leather boots, the start of the hockey season...

"Okay, so it's not much to celebrate over, but I promise I'll make it up to you this weekend," Jane said cheerily, placing a bowl of risotto in front of Lizzie before she sat down in the adjacent stool and stirred her own bowl slowly. 

"Thanks," Lizzie murmured. "How's work?"

"Great, great!" Jane said enthusiastically between bites of risotto. "I'm getting along with everyone and my boss really seems to like my contemporary taste, so that's nice, you know?"

Lizzie nodded, and Jane continued.

"She actually asked that I come along for a business trip in December," Jane cleared her throat. "To New York, to look at some potential collections."

"Jane, that's fantastic!" 

"It's really convenient, too," Jane added. "I checked the dates, and it'll be right around the time of your exams, so it'll be nice and quiet around here."

"Isn't it always nice and quiet?" Lizzie teased. "I mean, I guess I'll manage the extra silence and whatever kindness is handed to me."

"Oh, Lizzie, eat your risotto."

Lizzie obliged, but with a smirk. She wondered if Jane knew she was the 'nice and quiet' girl (among other things, like gorgeous and talented, but for the sake of Lizzie's observation), and if so, did she mind it? Jane had numerous positive qualities and hardly any negative ones. Like, she'd been losing her keys as of late, causing Lizzie to place one above the door frame of their apartment just in case she didn't get home before Jane did. She ate too much ice cream (not that it decimated her figure) and never got enough sleep. 

But the one prominent flaw Jane had?

"I actually made some tentative plans this weekend that we could use to celebrate," Lizzie spoke up vaguely, earing a "mhm?" from Jane to go on. "I got some tickets for a game this weekend at the student activities office."

"Tickets for what?" Jane looked up, but instantly realized what Lizzie was talking about once they made eye contact.

"They're nosebleeds, all the way in the third level," Lizzie tried to make the excuse. "You love hockey, I love hockey, it doesn't matter who's playing!"

"It matters to me," Jane said quietly, reaching up to run a hand through the crown of her peachy hair. "You know that."

"Well then, tell him you're in town and that you guys should grab a bite after," her sister suggested. "I'll come with; I'll even be nice to Jonathan if you ask him to come along."

"Why don't we go to a movie instead?"

"Why won't you call him?" Lizzie demanded, exasperated at Jane's timidness. "You said it yourself- he kissed you, he obviously liked you enough to do so! And the fact that it took him that long means-"

"It doesn't mean anything!" Jane glared at Lizzie. "I don't want him to mean anything anymore, and you can't make me!" 

Lizzie knew Jane felt embarrassed by her childish words, but she nonetheless picked up her bowl and moved out of the kitchen despite a flushing face.

"I've got to get some work done," she excused herself. "I'll be in my room if you need me."

The shutting of her door (Jane was too kind to slam) meant the conversation was over, meaning Lizzie had failed miserably. For the most part, she'd assumed that Jane was in the stage of heartbreak where she'd be eager to pick up the pieces. Clearly, she was now at the point of making Patrick Kane's presence in her life absolutely irrelevant. But it didn't matter if Jane intended on acting like he meant nothing to her anymore.

Because as anyone could see, Patrick Kane meant everything to Jane Bennet. 

And no matter how hard she tried, she could never let him go.