A/N: I just can't get enough of Mary Bennet! Hopefully those who have liked A Misunderstanding of Character would like this as well. I got my insiration from reading "I am Charlotte Simmons". Enjoy!
Confessions of a Mary Bennet
In the 21st Century
by Margaret920
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The Beginning: The Chair
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I am no Elizabeth Bennet
I am no Elizabeth Bennet.
I am no Jane Bennet.
I am not even a Lydia Bennet.
No, I am (unfortunately) a Mary Bennet…in the twenty-first century that is. And being a Mary Bennet in these trying times is not exactly the best thing in the world.
You see, I have already given up the fantasy of being a proud and witty Elizabeth Bennet who meets her equally proud and handsome Mr. Darcy. Of course, at one point of my life, I was as delusional as to think that I would eventually meet my Mr. Darcy who falls in love with me despite my obvious faults. But that was a long time ago, now I am completely devoted to being a Mary Bennet.
It's not like being Mary Bennet is bad, per se, it is just inconvenient at times. Actually, it give me quite a bit of free time left over after all the social obligations I have to attend, not that I have a lot of that either. However, I have to admit, being born in a Bennet-like household does not help the situation very much.
There is my father, Mr. Charles Hayward. He worked as an English professor at Boston College for about twenty years before retiring several years ago. Now, he usually just reads and writes at home. He is good father, though he does have an annoying habit of shutting himself in his office for long periods of time doing God knows what.
Then there is my mother, Mrs. Karen Hayward. She is perhaps the long-lost twin of Mrs. Bennet, because apparently the only thing that she cares about is, in order of importance: herself, her clothes, and her son-in-laws. Yes, it is quite embarrassing when the kids at school flirt when your mother when she picks you up and being mistaken for her sister instead of daughter. This might either imply she has too much plastic surgery or that I look too old for my age.
There is my lovely sister Bridget who is like Jane Bennet in many ways because she is just too sweet and beautiful for her own good. Then comes my second oldest sister who is aptly named Elizabeth, who is basically Elizabeth Bennet with a different last name. There is no Kitty in the family, but we do have a Lydia. That is my younger sister of four years, Megan who already gained quite a reputation for herself before she started high school.
And oh yes, there is me. How should I describe myself? I am the least significant of the famous Hayward sisters. I have dark hair that comes from nowhere since my father has dark brown hair while my mother has blond hair. They always say I look exactly like my great-Aunt Rose.
She died at the age of eighty with a house full of cats and was reputed to be crazy.
My poor eyesight also apparently come from her since according to mother, all Haywards have perfect eyesight, except for me and my Aunt Rose of course. My eyes are grey, but nobody really sees them because they are usually looking down in a book or covered by a pair of magnifying glasses that I call my spectacles. I am not too tall or too short about 5 feet 5 and I really am not too smart, beautiful, witty, funny…Come to think of it, I am not too much of anything. So in short, I am just ordinary.
Of course, ordinary really does not really suite my family, so I am usually the one who is left out. On family photographs, you can never really see me since I am usually either taking the photo, burying my face in a book, blocked by Megan's hair, hat, and etc, or just half of my face is visible since the person taking the photograph was too lazy to adjust the frame to fit all of me as well. This is probably why when I say my name, the responses would always be, "Oh really? Are you like a cousin of Bridget? You don't look like her." Or "Really? Your sister Lizzy is so funny!" Or perhaps, "Really? Say hi to Megan for me ok?" And my personal favorite: "Ha ha! You have got to be joking."
Yep, that was how I passed high school, being Ordinary Anne with a family of not-so-ordinary people. For God's sakes, even my name is ordinary!
Anyways, back to my life story here. So I graduated high school with very good marks and because I liked it so much, I went to Dartmouth. Now don't start thinking I am a dumb blond who gets in an Ivy League just by being a dumb blond on that movie "Legally Blond". So I may not be brilliant like the rest of my family, but I do work very hard. I guess working hard really comes to you naturally when there is really nothing else to do on Saturday nights except for studying. And don't start thinking I am a complete loner, because I am quite a sociable person when I want to be. I am my mother's daughter you know.
So the real story really started at the beginning of junior year at Dartmouth when I was about 20 years old and still living in the school dorm on campus. I decided my dead-end major would be English, for I am just the dead-end sort of person I guess (no offence to English majors out there). My father would have been proud if Lizzie didn't call the next moment saying she got into Yale Law School. I guess that's how my life have always been. I remember when I learned to how to ride a bike when I was five (I am not the athletic sort of person). So I ran to my mother to tell her the good news, however just then my baby sister Morgan said her first word. When I got my acceptance letter to Dartmouth, which is perhaps one of the proudest moments of my life, I ran to my dad to tell him the good news. However, apparently my sister Bridget just called him saying she just got engaged, so my Dartmouth became old news in a few seconds. But I guess that's life, and believe me, I am not resentful.
God, I am rambling again.
Anyhow, back to my story. So that year, I was to get a new roommate since most of my classmates had already found an apartment of their own while I was stuck in a mouse hole of a dorm. According to a brief information sheet the school gave me, she was a sophomore of 19 named Charlotte Chandler, majoring in Foreign Relations and supposedly extremely fond of reading (like me). Thus, it was with mixed anticipation that I waited for her in our dorm.
There was a light knock on the door and I quickly got up to open the door to reveal my new roommate staring back at me. The first thing I noticed was a head of shockingly blond hair that seemed less real than that smile plastered on her face. She cocked her perfectly manicured eyebrows at me and cringed her nose as if she had just smelled something gone bad.
"Uh…Hi, my name is Anne, Anne Hayward," I tried to introduce myself and held out my hand.
The girl's left eyebrow cocked even higher at my hand and held her head a little bit higher before pushing her way past me into the room.
"Ok, let me, like, set the rules first, ok? Miss Sweatpants?" At this, I stared down at my comfortable, but undoubtedly unfashionable pair of grey sweatpants. Hey, I am a poor college student. I don't have enough money to look like the real-life Barbie everyday.
"First, when I have, like, a guy here, you better leave the room, ok? Looking at you might turn him off. Second, don't you dare touch anything of mine. My clothes are worth more than everything you own. And third, don't talk or associate with me in public, ok? I am, like, already humiliated for getting stuck with you for my roommate and I don't want my social life to be ruined. Do…you…un-der-stand?" She asked slowly as if she was talking to a mental delinquent.
"No," I said sarcastically and rolled my eyes, "Well, I am off to the library, if you want to know."
"I don't want to know."
Yep, that was the wonderful roommate I was to be stuck with for the rest of the year. I quickly made my way across campus to the library, my sanctuary. I sat down in my favorite chair and picked up a random philosophy book to read. Soon, I was lost in my reading.
"Excuse me, you are sitting in my chair," a voice said from behind me. I immediately jumped up and was just about to say a hasty "sorry" when I recognized the face in front of me. There was no mistake about it. It was James Ashworth.
Of course, everyone knew of James Ashworth on campus. I had only heard of him from others and seen him once before. However, it seemed as if everyone knew of him. He was the president of the most elusive fraternity on campus, Delta Phi Alpha, and the son of Senator Edward Ashworth. I saw him once at a dinner held at the Dean's office because both of us were on the Dean's list. I, being the wallflower that I was, spent the evening sipping champagne (I never liked any kind of alcohol) and chatting with passing acquaintances. He, on the other hand, spent the evening dancing, laughing, and flirting with everyone. He even came up to me for a moment and said a quick "hello" before being whisked off by a girl.
And here he was, right in front of me, with an annoyed look on his face. I didn't know why I didn't just sit at another chair, like I would have usually done. Perhaps it was from my humiliation that morning with Charlotte (the roommate), or the fact that he had just interrupted me from an intriguing paragraph in my book. Somehow, I, Anne Hayward, found myself still sitting in the chair.
"Did you hear what I said? This," James Ashworth pointed angrily at my chair, "is my chair. Now, if you will please, I have to study."
Really, if he just asked me nicely to sit somewhere else and stop calling my favorite chair his, I would have graciously left. I mean, seriously, where is that famous Ashworth chivalry?
"Your chair?" I surprised myself when I heard me say those words in a clear voice, "I fail to see a name on this chair that says it belongs to you."
"Do you know who I am?" He now asked in a highly irritated voice, "I am James Ashworth. My family foundation built this wing of the library! Can't you just get your things and get up from this stupid chair?"
"Look, James Ashworth, I am not leaving this chair no matter how many wings your family builds. If your family can afford this whole damn wing, why don't you ask daddy to buy you the chair then?" I should note I do not usually yell at strangers. But this person was really getting on my nerves at that moment.
"Look, this is my favorite chair," he said slowly, "I understand that you freshmen do not understand how things work around here, so I will just look past this incident and forgive you if you will just sit somewhere else from now on."
"Oh, pardon my ignorance Sir Ashworth, I am so sorry!" I said with a streak of sarcasm and proceeded to continue reading my book, completely ignoring the person in front of me. Apparently, my body language did not convey my message to the person in front of me.
I heard him give a soft snort and said, "'Stubborn and ardent clinging to one's opinion is the best proof of stupidity'"
Seriously, who is he kidding here? You think a de Montaign quote like that would baffle an English major, who also happens to be reading a philosophy book?
"Are you trying to say I am stubborn or stupid?" I asked with clenched jaws.
He smirked, "Both."
"Well, perhaps you are acquainted with the saying…" Note to self: I really should think before I talk now, "um…'Those who speak…are those who are'"
Stupid! I mentally hit my head against the wall. What kind of made-up philosophical quote is that? Couldn't I have thought of something smarter? Or at least made sense?
"Hmm, I do not think I have heard of that one before."
Well obviously not.
"Well, it fits you perfectly," I continued on, "It is just like that other saying, 'Those who don't understand, don't do."
Alright, by that time, things were just coming out of my mouth.
James Ashworth looked at me strangely while I tried to hide my burning face from sight. He gave out a small chuckle and said while crossing his arms to look down at me, "What an insightful quote. But I happen to have a better one to describe this situation."
I looked up at him in confusion. "What?"
"It is a quote from yours truly…'GET OUT OF MY CHAIR!'"
He yelled at me. He yelled right into my face. He had the audacity to yell at an innocent girl who just happened to be sitting in the wrong seat at the wrong time. I mean seriously, it was just a chair!
And there was no way I was going to just get out of the chair like an obedient servant. No way. My day was already horrible, and I was not going to leave without putting up a fight for that stupid chair.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" I seethed as I stood up until our faces were about three inches apart, "You come in here and expect me to just give up my seat like this? Just because you are James Ashworth does not give you any special privilege in this college. And guess what? I also have a good quote for this situation."
"What" He glared into my eyes.
"It is a personal favorite of mine…'GET OUT OF MY FACE!'"
Haha! Take that James Ashworth. I laughed inside when an appalled look plastered on James Ashworth's "beautiful face", as most girls would describe it as. I suddenly had the urge to get out a camera and take a picture of that horrified look on his face.
It was as if nobody had ever said "no" to him before. But then again, what can you expect from a spoiled brat like him?
I was soaking in my moment of triumph when someone tapped me on my shoulder. I turned around to find a furious old lady with an arm full of books. Uh oh. Angry old ladies are never good signs.
"Young lady, do you know where you are?" She asked me furiously as she jabbed her finger repeatedly into my shoulder (which surprisingly hurt).
"In the library…" I tried to put one those guilty/cute look girls do to get out of speeding tickets. But I guess that wasn't working, which either implies that the woman is immune to cuteness or that I was not cute. Personally, I think it is the latter.
"And what is the first thing not to do in the library?" She still kept on jabbing.
"Don't return books?" I laughed meekly. Come on, I thought it was a little funny. Ok, so maybe it wasn't funny at all, but the woman kept on jabbing her pointy fingernail into my skin.
"Don't try to be smart. And no, the rules clearly state no yelling in the library. You are disturbing those who are trying to learn."
"B-but it was not me who provoked my outburst. It was him!" I pointed at James Ashworth, "He was the one who yelled first. Didn't you hear him?"
"No, young lady, all I heard was you. And anyways, Jamie knows not to yell in the library, don't you, Jamie?" Suddenly, all the acidity towards me was gone, and the old lady patted "Jamie" on the back. It was like watching the Wicked Witch of the West turn into Toto. Alright, bad analogy, but you get the picture.
"Of course, Mrs. Herman. The only thing you could have possibly heard from me was me telling this vulgar girl not to yell in the library," James said with a grin toward my direction before taking the old lady's arm, "But I am afraid this girl is just too far off from proprieties in society to understand that she cannot yell in a library."
What the hell?! He talked as if I was a savage!
"And she just talked back to an elderly lady. Though it might not be a written rule in the library, it is a common curtsey, at least in polite society. Do you not agree, Mrs. Herman?" James continued sweetly, "Perhaps it would be best to just ban her from the library for such acts of profanity."
Ban me?! Ban me from my sanctuary? Don't tell me the lady is going to buy this bull –
"You are right, Jamie," Mrs. Herman said with a sweet smile before turning back to me angrily, "Young lady, if you cannot follow such simple rules, out now!" Again, she started poking me with her sharp fingernails.
"B-but you can't – Please, don't listen – I am inno –" I tried to say to Mrs. Herman as she started walking away, but my efforts were fruitless.
"Jamie dear, would you please make sure this young lady is out of the library within five minutes? I am afraid I have to shelf some of these books," Mrs. Herman completely ignored my protests and waved goodbye to "Jamie".
"Of course, Mrs. Herman, have a nice day. Perhaps we should have tea together sometimes. I will call you!" James waved back like the perfect gentleman that he is, "And say hi to Joanne for me!"
I could only gap at the scene. That two-faced bastard! I watched as James turned around to face me with the same fake smile that was plastered on his face in front of the librarian.
"Oh, you are still here. Are you deaf as well? Shouldn't you be packing up now?"
By then, I was seriously considering punching that smug face blue.
But I took a deep breath and calmed myself. I reminded myself the teachings of Taoism. Remember The Three Jewels: compassion, moderation, and humility. Learn to restrain your anger, show love for –
"Don't tell me you are as stupidly stubborn as you are annoying."
Oh forget Tao! This kid's dead! So what if he is a senator's son and I might mysteriously disappear from the face of the earth when his father dispatches the Secret Police to get me and my family? So what if the sorority girls might murder me for killing the fraternity king. I am not scared of those girls! I got a yellow belt in karate! (Actually, the sensei just felt bad for me when I still had a white belt after about four years of classes) And so what if I am not exactly sure what I will do when I get to jail? I could always plead insanity.
Ok, so maybe this wasn't a good idea, but in my mind…well let's just say that pretty face on James Ashworth would not be so pretty after what I'm done with him…in my mind, of course.
"If I am as stubborn as I am annoying, you are as smart as you are stupid!" I yelled out the first thing that came to mind, and before I could see the annoying smirk that I knew would be plastered on James' face, I left the library with my head held high. Yes, I still had enough dignity left after all that.
A week after the chair incident, I went back to the Ashworths' wing of the library (I was no longer banned), and found a plague on the chair:
Property of James Ashworth
DO NOT TOUCH!
And that, was the beginning of it all. With the chair. And that bratty bastard.
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A/N: So this is what I have been working on for a while now instead of updating. Hopefully everyone likes this story. There is not many modern stories about Mary Bennet out there. REVIEW PLEASE! Or else I will just delete this story...