Darcy and Lucien Part II

Scene 8: Friday (the meeting)

Lucien looked at his wardrobe. Which suit, which suit? He chose a semi-casual, and after putting it on, he called a cab, making two stops: one to buy a single red rose, and the other; an Italian restaurant, Pizzini’s.
“Hello, sir, can I help you?” the girl at the counter smiled.
“Yes, I have a table for two, under the name Dobson,” he said.
“Right this way,” she said, taking him to a table to the right. It was a fairly small restaurant, you could see the whole of it from the front door.

Darcy’s cab pulled up at 7pm sharp, and she paid the driver in hurry. She came up the steps very slowly. It had been so long since she had done this, she was nervous.
“Hello, miss, can I help you?” said a girl holding menus.
“Um, no thank you, I’m with someone, I can find him.”
At that instant, across the room, she saw someone she hadn’t seen for years. Nine years, to be exact. Not since high school. Her heart leaped and she hid in the bathroom. She took a few deep breaths.
“What the hell is he doing here?” she said, calming herself. She looked at herself in the mirror. “That can’t be him, it can’t. I’m over him, he had no idea and it was nine years ago and it – it can’t be him…”
She peered around the edge of the wall to check he hadn’t seen her. She straightened her dress, and walked out of the bathroom, determined to find her date, hoping he wouldn’t recognize her.

Lucien had just looked up from his watch when Darcy appeared from behind the flowers in front of the women’s lavatory. He felt a surge go through this whole body.
“What the bloody hell…” then it was gone in an instant, and he didn’t know what it was. He shook his head. “Darcy!” he called.
Darcy looked over at him, and smiled, a faint smile.
“Good god, Darcy, I haven’t seen you in ages!” Lucien stood up to greet her. “And it’s only just last night that I read your article in The Times. How’ve you been?”
“Um, well. Thank you.”
“Have a seat,” Lucien offered. “For a bit anyway. I’m expecting someone shortly – I expect she’s been delayed in traffic. It’s one of those blind date things. Mitch, my friend from college, he’s been trying to set me up with all these chicks…”
As he spoke, Darcy looked in disbelief at the red rose on the table. Her breath grew short as she sat.
“Well,” Lucien said, in the stead of her silence. “I must say, you look well, Darcy. Do you come here often?”
“Um, no. Never, actually, this is, my first time”
“It’s a nice little place. Are you meeting someone, or are you alone?”
“Actually," she said, nervously. "I’m here on a... a blind date... Socio-boy.” An awkward silence followed. She half-smiled.
“Ah.” More silence. “Then this, I believe,” Lucien said, twirling the rose before handing it to Darcy, “Is for you.”
“I’m sorry I’m late.” She whispered.
“Don’t be.” Lucien answered. He waved a waiter over, studying Darcy out of the corner of his eye.
“Your menus, sir,” the waiter said. “Would you like anything to drink while you decide what to order?” Lucien looked at Darcy.
“Um,” Darcy faltered. What she really needed was a stiff brandy… “I’ll take a, red wine. Thank you.”
“And I’ll have a dark ale,” Lucien said.
“Right away,” the waiter whisked off to get their drinks.
“So, Darcy. How’ve you been in, nine years?” Lucien asked. “Busy, at least.”
“Much too busy, yes,” she replied. “I work for the—“
“The New York Times,” Lucien said. “Of course.”
“I don’t normally write, however, it’s a rare… treat,” she said. “I’m actually the assistant editor, and I work in communications.” She laughed. “I know, it must sound really boring…”
“No, no. Assistant editor, you have been successful. I always wondered,” he murmured the last bit to himself.
“What was that?” she asked, leaning forward to hear.
“Oh, nothing. Just wondering what you were up to,” he said.
“And you,” she said. “You work for… Intel?” she said, raising her eyebrows and smiling.
“Yes… yes, that is… correct. For what it’s worth,” he said.
She smiled and quickly looked down at her menu as the waiter arrived with their drinks.
“Are you ready to order, or would you like more time?” the waiter said.
“Uh, I’ll just have your best Braciolone, please,” Lucien said, handing the menu back to the waiter without even consulting it. Darcy quickly flipped through hers, flustered.
“I’ll have… Fusilli al formaggio. Light on the sauce. And, can I possibly exchange the garlic bread for a salad?”
“Of course. What dressing?” the waiter said.
“Oh, none, thank you.”
“I’ll be back with your orders,” the waiter left.
“You’re not a health freak, are you?” Lucien said, with mock exasperation.
“One might say that,” Darcy admitted.
“Vegetarian?” Lucien raised his eyebrows. Darcy occupied herself with her wine.
“And an atheist, and my father plays the banjo. Any other dark secrets we’d like to open up first off?”
“I guess that covers it,” he replied.
“So,” she said. “What do you do at Intel?”
“Not much,” Lucien said.
“Oh?” Darcy looked slightly annoyed.
“Sometimes I program computers, when the mood strikes me,” he said.
“And when’s that?” she asked. Lucien tapped his head.
“It clicks,” he said simply.
“And what do you do when it doesn’t?”
“I dunno… bullshit my way through stacks of paperwork. When I make a breakthrough, I get off, though,” he finished. “Like now. Just yesterday-“
“It “clicked?””
“Yeah, so I have this week off. Then it’s back to bullshitting.”
“Then, do you go out often?” Darcy asked, slyly. Lucien grimaced.
“Uh, no,” he said awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t, usually.”
“I thought you said Mitch—“
“Nah. He tries to get me to, but… it just doesn’t work, you know?”
“And so you…can’t feel any…emotion?”
“Not really. I think I feel some stuff, but it mostly just resembles anger and depression… and,” he stopped.
“And what?” Darcy asked, looking at him intently. She didn’t dare hope…
“Well, to tell you the truth, Mitch is sorta trying to cure me of two things. Yeah, there’s the emotion thing, where he’s trying to get me to settle down. Well, it’s complicated,” he finished.
“Hmm,” Darcy said.
The waiter brought the food, and they contented themselves with eating in silence for a few minutes. Darcy reflected on the evening so far. It had been very bizarre. She had never felt so out of control.
Lucien snuck looks at Darcy. Why didn’t he want to tell her about his obsession with numbers? He’d wanted to have everything out in the open before, when he’d been telling Mitch to redo his stupid profile. Yet, now that he’d seen Darcy again, he wanted more than anything to just be normal, to get that feeling back, he knew in his head that he loved her, but his heart wasn’t in it. How backward was that? He remembered the jolt he got the first time he saw Darcy that evening. He couldn’t remember what it felt like, but it had been there… hadn’t it?
“You’re so different, Darcy,” Lucien said after a while.
“How so?” she asked, skeptically.
“Well, you’re just so…old,” he tried to think of a different word. Darcy raised her eyebrows.
“What I mean is…well, you look so grown up.” He finished.
“Well, funny you mention it, I am grown up…” she smirked.
“Yes, I suppose that’s true. It’s weird, isn’t it?”
“It’s just as weird to see you in a suit, I never thought I’d live the day…”
“You used to be a right hippie girl, I remember…” Lucien laughed.
“I was, wasn’t I? And you… I don’t know,”
“I was a geek, don’t try to weasel out of that one,” Lucien said. “I still am, I guess…”
“What?! That’s not what I was going to say!”
“Yeah, come on. I work for Intel, remember?”
“Soo?”
“So, it makes me a class one geek,” Lucien said.
“It does not! You’re intelligent! That’s why you turned up as a…”
“What?”
“Never mind,” she said. She didn’t know exactly why she didn’t want to talk about blind online dating, but she just didn’t.
“What?” he pressed her for details.
“As a… that’s what I searched for online,” she said quickly, embarrassed. “Sadie made me make a profile and, and send messages to people, and I picked you because you were one of the few people my search for “intelligent” brought up.”
“And because of my… ah, interesting problem?” Lucien said. Darcy looked up quickly.
“No, it’s just…”
“You can tell me, it’s all right,” he said, laughing.
“Well, it did sound interesting…” she admitted to her lap.
“Well, I might as well tell you the story, since we’re here,” he said. Darcy couldn’t make out his expression.
“Now, don’t think that that’s all I—“
“I don’t,” Lucien said promptly. “If it was anyone else, I wouldn’t.  But I want to tell you. And you do want to know, don’t you?” he inquired.
“Yes,” she said quietly.
“So, it was about… seven and a half, eight years ago that I was attending MIT. Well, you know how college kids get, I was out drinking at some girl’s dorm –“ Darcy flinched ever so slightly, but Lucien either didn’t see or decided to ignore it – “ After the party wound down, I decided to go back across campus to my dorm. It’s pretty simple. I didn’t make it across the parking lot between dorms.”
“But…?” Darcy asked quizzically.
“I was too wasted to see where I was going, the other guy was too wasted to be driving. We collided. I’m afraid it turned out worse for my end of the bargain,” he said dryly.
“But, that’s… how can you be so… OK with it?” she sputtered.
“Fairly easily. I have no feelings, remember?” he smirked. Darcy sighed.
“And I thought my life was messed up,” she said.
“It’s all right. I’m over it.”
“Well, thanks for… sharing.” She said meekly.
“No problem. Now you know. How’s your food?” he changed the subject. Darcy jerked out of a reverie.
“What? Oh, it’s marvelous… how’s yours?”
“Don’t dwell on it,” Lucien said knowingly.
“What? Your food?” she asked.
“Never mind. My food’s excellent,” he replied. “Would you like dessert?” he asked offhand, as if nothing was wrong, nothing to give away that he’d lost his emotion in a traumatic accident nearly nine years ago.
“Umm,” Darcy said apprehensively.
“Come on, you can break down one time, can’t you?” he goaded. “Just have something, you deserve it.”
“Oh, all right. What do you suggest?”
“This huckleberry cobbler sounds pretty good,”
“All right then,”
Lucien waved the waiter over.
“We’d like two huckleberry cobblers, please.”
“Right away sir.”
The waiter delivered their desserts shortly after.
“I haven’t…”broken down” in…”
“Days... weeks?…” Lucien finished.
“Years.” Darcy sighed.
“It’ll be good for you—well, not good, to say, but, you need it.”
“Fine.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes.
“Why were you surprised it was me?” Darcy asked.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I didn’t know it was you because you didn’t have a picture, but how did you not know it was me?”
“Mitch always does that stuff.”
“But, you don’t even want to know who they are beforehand?”
“Not really, no.”
“I see...”
“No! I mean, I do care who it is eventually, I guess. But the profiles are just... facades, mostly. Stretched truths and best feet forward. Just a bunch of pretty faces, not a lot of real people.”
Darcy smoothed her eyebrow self-consciously. Lucien touched her arm and she looked up.
“So when I decide to come, it’s not just because Mitch tells me that you’re “freakin’ gorgeous;” it’s because you speak three languages, play an instrument, and have a cool job besides being freakin’ gorgeous.”
“Umm, thanks.” Darcy managed.
“It’s just the truth. Ah, desserts. M’lady,”   
They finished their desserts, Darcy with much prodding from Lucien, and prepared to leave the restaurant. Lucien helped Darcy into her jacket and they walked into the cool air outside.
“Hey, d’you have time? We could walk around the pond,” Lucien suggested. Darcy’s heart gave a jolt. Talking to Lucien over a table in a crowded restaurant had been fine, but the prospect of walking with him in the dark by a pond made her a little anxious, but before she could make an excuse, he took her silence for an answer.
“Excellent,” he said. He took her hand and led her into the trees.
“I come here all the time,” he said. “Have you ever been?”
“Um, no. What’s it called?” Darcy was violently aware of her hand in Lucien’s, it was growing hotter by the second. Lucien didn’t seem to notice, because started leading her to a large pond surrounded by trees and boulders. The pond was glittering with light from the weak street lamps nearby, and an unearthly glow shone from lights embedded in the stones at the bottom.
“I have no idea what it’s called, never bothered to look it up. What should it be called?” he said, looking up from the pond to Darcy, still not releasing her hand.
“I’m no good at naming things, honestly,” she said faintly.
“All right then, how about something musical, I don’t know, say something musical,” he said. Darcy was taken by surprise.
“Musical? Well… the modes have interesting names. Ionian, Dorian, Phrygian, Lydian Mixolydian, Aeolian…” she said.
“That’s good,” Lucien said. “Aeolian. We’ll shorten it and call this place Aeolia.”
“Perfect,” Darcy said, hoping he would release her hand soon. It was all right for him, he couldn’t feel emotion…emotion? Emotion must be really sweaty.
“Here, let’s sit,” he suggested. He helped her onto a boulder near the water’s edge. She was very glad she’d chosen to wear flats instead of heels. She kept a mental note to tell Sadie this next time she saw her. He finally let go of her hand as he sat down beside her. She drew her knees up to her chin and put her arms around them, staring at the mesmerizing pond.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
“Yep,” Lucien agreed. He glanced over at her. The lights from the pond danced on Darcy’s figure and sparkled in her glasses. They sat for a few more minutes, then Lucien stood.
“Well, I expect you’ll be wanting to get back,” he said, jumping from the boulder to the ground. Darcy got up.
“Um, yes. I suppose I’d better,” she said awkwardly. Lucien held out a hand to help her down. Hesitantly, she took it and hopped down. She was relieved that he let go as soon as she was on firm ground. They left the darkness of the trees and headed to the main street where they could call a cab.
“Allow me,” Lucien said. Darcy felt much better now that they were back in the bustle of the city. “Do you want a separate cab, or..?” he asked.
“Whatever you want,” she said.
“Well, is anyone gettin’ in?” the cabbie asked.
“Just…get in,” Darcy said. Lucien slid across, and Darcy ducked in behind him. As she closed the door, she glanced up at the cabbie. He, however, was looking at Lucien.
“Hey! Don’ I know you?” he asked. Lucien looked up. “Yeah, I do! Well, if it isn’t Bill Gates!” the cabbie looked very pleased with himself, smacking his gum. Lucien forced a laugh and looked over at Darcy. She was starting out her window, biting her lip and shaking with silent laughter.
“Gotcherself a girlfriend this time, huh?” the cabbie said, nodding to Darcy. “Wotchername?”
“Darcy,” she replied.
“Pretty name… so, where we headed?” he asked. Darcy looked at Lucien.
“Where do you live?” Lucien asked.
“Um, 27 Park Street,” she said.
“All right, you’re closer. 27 Park Street,” he said to the cab driver. Barely. From what he could remember of New York, Park Street was only a short distance from Park Place. They rode in silence, looking out the windows. As they reached Park street, Darcy pulled her wallet from her purse.
“I’ll get it,” said Lucien said, looking at her. He got out of the cab and went around to Darcy’s side. He opened the door, and helped her out of the cab.
“I’ll be back in a sec,” he whispered to the cabbie, who snorted with mirth. He followed Darcy to her doorstep. She paused at the door.
“Well,” Lucien said. “Thanks, for… living up to “the task.””
“My pleasure,” Darcy said. “If you – that is, if you ever want to…”
“Try again…” Lucien filled in.
“Yes –“ she said, flustered, and got out her black book. “Here.” She scribbled her number on a page and ripped it out, not looking at him. Lucien took it, trying to figure out her expression.
“Sure thing,” he replied. “Well, good night, Darcy.”
She nodded, still not looking at him. He magically pulled the red rose from his jacket and, taking her hand, placed it gently inside, closing her fingers around it.
“Good night,” she whispered. She fumbled with her key before managing to unlock the door. On his way down the steps, Lucien turned, and their eyes met briefly as she closed the door.
“So, Bill-Gates-the-lovah, where to? Park Place, was it?”
“Yeah, 34,” Lucien said. The cabbie continued to talk the entire way, but Lucien wasn’t listening. He reached his apartment, gave the cabbie enough money to cover all the taxi bills for the night, and trudged up the stairs once more. A noticed a sort of buzzing in his ears. He knew that this signified an onslaught of numbers. He threw his jacket and tie on the couch and headed to the kitchen. Once more, he pulled out the brandy and a glass and took them to the couch. After his fourth glass, the buzzing subsided, and he was able to fall asleep, though fitfully. He dreamed of a girl on a rock by a pond, lights dancing over her figure.

Scene 9: Saturday (Darcy)

Darcy awoke late on Saturday to the ringing of her telephone. She pulled herself out of bed to answer it.
“Hello?” she said, trying not to sound too groggy.
“Hey there!” said Sadie from the other side.
“Oh, hey,” Darcy said, sinking onto the bed, this time trying not to sound too disappointed. She noticed the rose on the bedside table and picked it up, breathing it in.
“You sound disappointed,” Sadie accused. “Were you expecting… someone else?”
“Uh, no, not really,” Darcy said.
“Soooo?” Sadie prodded.
“Sooo, what?”
“How was your date?!” Sadie could hardly keep from bursting.
“Oh, that,” Darcy said with mock surprise. “It was fine…”
“Fine?! FINE?! I want details, girl!” Sadie said.
“Well, he did work for Intel,” Darcy started.
“Oh God, so he was a dork, then?” Sadie’s excitement drained.
“No, no! He was… um, charming, and… polite… and,”
“Cute?” Sadie said.
“Yes,” Darcy replied, being very careful. “Very cute.” Sadie sighed a satisfied sigh.
“And you wore what I told you to wear?” her accusatory tone was back.
“Yes,” Darcy said. She decided not to tell Sadie about the heels.
“Even the heels, Darcy?” Sadie was too scary when it came to reading Darcy’s wardrobe mind. “You wore flats, didn’t you?”
“Sigh, yes, Sadie, I wore flats… but it worked out, I climbed a rock, so—“
“You did what? Why would you climb a rock, Darcy?”
Darcy proceeded to explain the entire date, leaving out the fact that it was someone from high school.
“Hmm, bizarre but romantic,” Sadie said after Darcy had finished. “So, did you fix him?”
“What?”
“Did, you, fix, him?” Sadie said slowly. “You know, the whole “sociopath” thing?”
“Uhh, no,” Darcy said.
“No? But how do you know?”
“You can’t just fix these things, Sadie. It's not magic.”
“Speaking of magic, are you going out again?”
“I don’t know,” Darcy said.
“But you said, he was charming, and, and cute! Darcy, do it! You’re insane! How many cute, charming, sociopaths that work for Intel are you going to meet in your life?” she took a breath. “What was his name, anyway? I could Google him for past scandals or something…”
Darcy didn’t want to tell Sadie what his name was, because that would give him away. She just wanted to get off the phone. But she couldn’t lie, either.
“Darcy,” sang Sadie’s voice impatiently. “Are you there?”
“Yes, I’m here,” Darcy said.
“So, what was his name?”
“It, it was Lucien, Sadie,” Darcy finally said.
“Lucien? Lucien…”
“Lucien Dobson,” said Darcy. Sadie gasped.
“Lucien Dobson?!”
“Yes,” Darcy said stiffly.
“You don’t mean, the Lucien Dobson that used to…”
“Go to school with me,” Darcy was keen to get off the subject. It was hard enough having a blast from the past last night without reliving it now, and Sadie would only make it ten times worse.
“But you—you were…I’m coming over,” Sadie said.
“No, you don—“ but Sadie had hung up. In a few minutes the buzzer rang downstairs, and Darcy slowly crossed the room to push the button to open the door for Sadie.
“But you were in love with him!!!” she said incredulously as she entered the room, hanging her jacket up hastily and dragging Darcy to sit on the couch, as though there had been no interruption in their phone conversation. “I know that name, you showed him to me in your senior yearbook! It is the same guy, isn’t it?” she looked at Darcy. Darcy nodded glumly.
“Well? Oh my God, Darcy! This is amazing! It’s like, a sign or something! What was it like? Now you have to tell me about it all over again, it’s different now…” Darcy gave a long sigh and fell back against the cushions.
“It doesn’t change anyth— oh fine!!” she begrudgingly retold the date, adding in all the parts that she’d left out. After Sadie had pressed her for every single detail about her feelings, she finally settle down.
“You’re going out again, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know,” Darcy said.
“What? You have to! Send him a message or something!”
“I gave him my phone number, Sadie…” Darcy reminded her.
“Oh, well,” Sadie said, with an air of “well, at least I taught you something...”
Finally, at two, Sadie left, and Darcy was finally alone. She got out her laptop and began typing.


Scene 10: Saturday (Lucien)

Mitch and another co-worker of Lucien’s, Eli, showed up at noon to find Lucien still asleep on the couch, the brandy and the New York Times on the table next to him.
“Dude, wake up!” Mitch said, nudging Lucien with his foot, glaring at the brandy. Lucien woke with a start, squinting at the pair of them. He sat up, holding his head as it throbbed.
“How’d you get in? I thought you lost…”
“Conveniently found this,” Mitch held up his key, “in my laundry.”
“Oh, right, right.” Lucien was rubbing his temples.
“So, man. What the fuck is this?” Mitch said, sitting down and indicating the brandy. “How many did you have?”
“I dunno; four, maybe.”
“Why? Didn’t you go out with a beautiful girl last night? Huh?”
“Did I?” Lucien said.
“But you, you,” Mitch finally picked up the satire in Lucien’s comment, and slugged him.
“Jesus, calm down,” Lucien said.
“SO WHAT’S WITH THE BRANDY?!” Mitch yelled.
“Numbers,” Lucien said simply.
“Not fucking numbers again, Lucien!” Mitch was now holding his own head. “What am I going to do with you!?” he took the brandy and poured it down the sink, fuming. Lucien didn’t notice.
“Hey,” he said to Eli, who was sitting at the other end of the couch.
“Hey,” Eli replied. “So, how was your date, then?”
“It was great,”
“That’s what he always says,” quipped Mitch from the kitchen, still muttering under his breath.
“We went to Pizzini’s, had dinner, talked…”
“Blah, blah, blah,” Mitch said.
“Afterward I took her to that little garden thing with the pond,” he said, a little louder.  “You know that place?” he asked Eli, who shook his head.
“That’s a new one,” Mitch said, still bitter. Lucien and Eli ignored him.
“So, what’s her name?” Eli continued conversationally.
“Darcy,” said Lucien, glancing over at Mitch. Mitch choked on a glass of water he was drinking.
“Darcy?” he said, suspiciously.
“You heard what he said,” Eli said, as if Mitch were a stupid young sibling.
“I think I did,” Mitch said, still suspicious. “Darcy who?” he asked, accusingly.
“Darcy Radcliffe,” Lucien said airily.
“Aha! That’s that chick who writes for the Times, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Lucien was trying to get away with not saying much. His head was nearly exploding. Mitch was not helping.
“Who also, coincidentally, went to high school with you and –“ Mitch stopped mid-sentence, comprehension dawning on his face. He grew excited. “You--you liked her! Back in the day! He never told anyone, of course,” he said to Eli, who looked confused. “No one but me…”
“Big mistake, huh?’ Lucien said, laying down once more. Mitch ignored him.
“So, it was a good date, then?” Mitch was now more eager to hear details.
“I told you, it was fine,” Lucien said. “Now, can I get something for my head?” Mitch gave Eli a significant look and pressed Lucien for more.
“So, why did you take her to that pond?” he asked as Eli went to the kitchen. “You’ve never done that with girls before.”
“I don’t know,” Lucien said, lying down on the couch. “I just felt like going there, and it seemed like she was the kind of person I could take.”
“But, you didn’t, there was nothing…more?”
“I didn’t sleep with her, if that’s what you’re asking,” Lucien said, rather irritably.
“No, no, of course not. Unfortunate, but I didn’t expect--you know what I mean…” he said, giving Lucien a significant look which he hoped might redeem himself.. Eli brought a hot water bottle to Lucien, who sat up to take it, trying to avoid the question. He wanted to be absolutely sure of what he’d felt the previous evening before he got Mitch’s hopes up.
“I’m afraid not,” he lied, covering his head with the bottle. That was one positive thing about having no emotion: it caused him no remorse to lie to his friend.
“Damn,” Mitch said. “But we will not be defeated. We’ll see what she has to say on the subject,” he mused, getting up from the couch.
“What are you talking about?” Lucien lifted the bottle to look at Mitch, who was searching the counter tops.
“Stand up,” he ordered Lucien.
“What?”
“Stand up,” Mitch repeated.
“Why?” Lucien said, suspiciously.
“’Cause I know you’re going to lie to me, and you’re a damn good liar, that’s why. I want to catch you at the jump. Just, do it, man,” Mitch said, a gleam in his eye. Lucien stood reluctantly.
“Turn out your pockets,” Mitch continued. Eli and Lucien exchanged looks of confusion. Exasperatedly, Lucien put his hands in his pockets. There wasn’t much in there, just some loose change, a computer chip, and – a slip of paper. He smirked as he realized what Mitch was up to.
“Come on, dude, hurry up,” Mitch said. Lucien pulled out the change, and sprinkled it on the couch with great emphasis.
“More,” Mitch said. Lucien then retrieved the chip from his pocket and shrugged.
“God damn it, Lucien,” Mitch was getting annoyed again. Lucien finally tugged the paper out.
“AHA!” Mitch shouted for the second time. “Give it here.” Lucien handed it over, still smirking.
“Hmm,” Mitch said, looking it over, sniffing. “Hmm…” Lucien rolled his eyes at Eli, who was chuckling.
“What do you think, Eli? Authentic?” He handed the paper to Eli, who held it up to the light.
“Ok, enough, guys…” Lucien laughed and sat down, immediately clutching his head.
“So,” said Mitch. “So…”
“A needle pulling thread?” Lucien said.
“HA! Funny, man, real funny…” Mitch was in a much better mood. “So, finally, a step in the right direction.” Lucien could just picture him rubbing his hands together in glee like a little mad scientist.
“First date: success,” Mitch said, tapping the paper.
“How can you—“ Eli started to say.
“Second date, dude! Second date!” Mitch said, tapping the paper again.
“You mean he’s never had a second—“
“Shut up!” Mitch interrupted, rather hysterical. “Don’t jinx it!”
“Nope!” Lucien mouthed in answer to Eli, who raised his eyebrows. “Oh no,” he said out loud this time. “We’re in uncharted waters, aren’t we, Mitch? Do you know what to do next?”
“Of, of course,” Mitch said, feigning know-all. “You call her.” It seemed simple enough, but they spent the next hour debating how to.
“What would be the right TIME, though?” Mitch wondered aloud. “The next day? And, if so, what time? At night? Or, have we already missed the opportune moment? What if noon the next day is when you’re supposed to call the chick back, then we’ve missed it!”
“Dude, calm down,” Eli said.
“I don’t think there are universal standards, Mitch,” Lucien added. “How about I just do it… um…”
“See?! SEE?! You have no clue!”
“At seven o’clock tonight,” Lucien finished over the top of Mitch.
“Good idea,” Eli said. “Well, I gotta go, I’m starving. See you guys later. Good luck with your phone call, Lucien.”
“See ya, Eli!”
“Bye, man!”
“This has to be the girl, Lucien, I just know it. Has to be.”
“Well, I’ll let you know, ok?”
“Yeah, ok. Well, I should probably get going too. Hey,” Mitch said.
“What?”
“No hard feelings about the brandy? I’ll get you some more, dude, I swear,” Mitch said apologetically.
“It’s all right, it’s probably for the best, anyway.”
“Well, anyway, see ya, Luc,” Mitch waved.
“Yeah, see ya,” Lucien said. As Mitch left, he sank back into the couch, hoping for more sleep.


Scene 11: Saturday (The Phone Call)

Darcy fell asleep at her laptop, waking as the sun shone blood red in her eyes as it sank. She closed her laptop, and went to her closet. This time, she pulled a box down from the shelf at the top. Rummaging through old photos and worthless keepsakes, she found the worn book at the bottom. She pulled it out. The big bold initials of her high school shone as she opened her senior year book. She flipped through the pages, laughing at people she’d known, frowning at others. She came to a certain page and stopped. There, Lucien’s face, though slightly younger, smirked up at her.
Lucien had woken up. He looked at the clock, quarter past seven. He leapt up, shaking his head to wake himself thoroughly. He crossed to the phone. He pulled out the now inspected slip of paper and memorized the numbers, out of habit. Then he dialed…
Darcy slammed the book shut as her phone rang and put it back in the box. She arrived in the kitchen as the third ring sounded.
“Hello?” she answered.
“Hi, Darcy?” Lucien said.
“Uh, yes, this is she—her,” she said. “Lucien?”
“Yeah, this is Lucien,” he said. Uncharted waters…
“So, um…how’ve you been?” she asked.
“Fine, fine. And you?”
“Same,” Darcy paused.
“So… er, it was nice to meet you, again,” Lucien said. “Do you want to, have coffee sometime, or something?”
“Yeah! Definitely,” Darcy said, relieved that that was out of the way. “When?”
“Um, how about Monday evening?” Lucien asked, rummaging around for a time.
“Er—“ Darcy began.
“Oh! Is that too soon? It’s too soon, isn’t it? I have no idea on these things, when I’m supposed to call, or anything,” Lucien said. Darcy laughed.
“Don’t worry, if it’s too soon, I wouldn’t know; I haven’t a clue, either,” she said. “It’s just that I have a meeting at six on Monday, however inconvenient… How about Tuesday?”
“Tuesday is excellent,” Lucien replied. “Where do you want to go?”
“Hmm, good question,” she said. “How about Peet’s? That’s always safe,”
“All right, Peet’s it is,” Lucien said. “Um, what time?”
“Six?” Darcy suggested.
“Six, good,” Lucien said. There was a silence.
“Ok, well, I guess I’ll see you then,” Darcy said.
“Yeah, see you on Tuesday,” Lucien said.
“Good night,” Darcy said.
“G’night,”
Darcy hung up the phone. Tuesday… maybe that was too soon. But when was “too soon?”



Scene 12: Monday (Darcy)

         Darcy wanted a quiet day in the office; she wanted to keep her head down, her reputation up, maybe get another break. She ignored everything except everyone’s “hello,” and got her usual coffee in the break room. Only when four of her co-workers trailed her to her cubicle did she acknowledge their presence.
“What do you want?” she asked irritably.
“So, you actually knew this guy, from highschool?” Richie said.
“Was he really a sociopath?” John said.
“Was he still cute?” another interrupted.
“Are you going out again?” Sadie said. Darcy put her hand over her eyes.
“You guys, I’m trying to work!”
“It’s not eight o’clock yet,” Richie pointed out.
“But I’m at work,” Darcy said. “And when I’m at work, I work…”
“C’mon, just give us details,” John wheedled. Darcy sat down and turned her computer on. She sat there staring at it, trying to ignore the people still standing by her desk. Finally she realized that they would not leave until she talked, so she sighed and turned toward them.
“Fine! Yes, he was in my grade in high school, yes, he was still cute, and yes, we are meeting each other again.” She glared around at them all. “Now, go away, and let me work!!!”


Scene 13: Monday (Lucien)

Lucien had an easier time at work, as not so many people involved themselves in his life. Mitch, however, called him as soon as he could.
“Hey,” Mitch said.
“Hey, what’s up?” Lucien said. It was back to doing nothing at work again, and he was glad to take a break from it.
“Oh, not much,” Mitch tried to lie.
“C’mon, spit it out,” Lucien said.
“Well?!” Mitch said impatiently.
“Well, what?” Lucien said.
“Second date!” Mitch said.
“Oh, yeah,” Lucien said.
“So, is there one?” Mitch said.
“What do you think?” Lucien said.
“Is there one, Lucien?” Mitch persisted. He wasn’t going to assume anything.
“Yes, Mitch,” Lucien said. There was a brief silence.
“But, you – really?” Mitch said, stunned. “You’re serious?” he whispered hoarsely.
“Dead serious,” Lucien said.
“But, then, this is it, I knew she had to be the one,” Mitch continued.
“I’m not fixed yet,” Lucien said.
“But you will be,” Mitch said confidently. “You will be. You must’ve done something different Saturday, Lucien. Maybe you weren’t so cold, maybe--”
“Well, anyway, I shouldn’t be on here too long,” Lucien said.
“Oh, right. You’re “working,”” Mitch said.
“No, my phone’s dying,” Lucien said.
“Well, whatever. You’ve got a second date, dude! We need to celebrate. See ya later,”
“See ya,”