"You are very welcome, my lady," he say- all formal like. I ain't even pretty right now- with my eyes probably all red, an' my nose runnin' real bad. An' tears streaked down my face. Not to mention my posture, an' my rude attitude. Why ain't he leavin'- I mean I pretty much done everythin' in my power to make 'em go- everythin' 'cept sayin' it I guess. But wha' am I supposed to do? Stand up an' shout, "Leave me alone?"
I think the Misses probably kill me if I do that.
"You engaged?" He ask, movin' closer to me. I schooch back again, but this time my back hits the wall. I got no where else ta go.
"N-no," I say, fast an' stupid. It woulda been my out- sayin' I all engaged an' that the rin' jus' bein' fixed. "I- what I meant to say is not yet. Almos'. He jus' gotta ask me."
Fo' some strange reason- I ain't picturin' Lloyd in my mind. No- he ain't the guy at all.
"But that mean you free to dance?"
"Oh, well, I," I pause- at a complete loss a words. When I came here- that all I wanted to do. Dance with nice gentlemen, maybe fall deep in love. Like Lizzy an' Mista Darcy. But now- now that the last thin' on my mind. I don' wanna dance with nobody- even if he ain't too ugly. "I'm flattered but I jus' not feelin' my best. Sick stomach," I lie, restin' my arms atop my stomach- that feelin' jus' fine. I make me features look all queasy though- jus fo' good measure.
"Oh- well let me get your chaperon then. Jus' tell me wha' she look like an' I'll be-"
"No," I snap- a little too quick an' a little too loud. "Wha' I mean is..."
Oh God, I dunno wha' I mean. "Well- she jus' busy righ' now," I mutter lamely. It ain't no excuse.
"Well that ain't an excuse," he say- exasperated. See- told ya- no excuse. "If you feelin' ill..." He trail off.
"Suddenly I feelin' much better."
I wipe the almos dried tears from my cheeks- my head turned away from him, of course, an' stand up. There is one thin' I'd hate mo' than dancin' right now- an' that bein' a lecture from the Misses.
I start walkin' then turn back to him. "You comin, or what?"
He smile, an' come after me. "'Course I comin'."
I think the Misses probably kill me if I do that.
"You engaged?" He ask, movin' closer to me. I schooch back again, but this time my back hits the wall. I got no where else ta go.
"N-no," I say, fast an' stupid. It woulda been my out- sayin' I all engaged an' that the rin' jus' bein' fixed. "I- what I meant to say is not yet. Almos'. He jus' gotta ask me."
Fo' some strange reason- I ain't picturin' Lloyd in my mind. No- he ain't the guy at all.
"But that mean you free to dance?"
"Oh, well, I," I pause- at a complete loss a words. When I came here- that all I wanted to do. Dance with nice gentlemen, maybe fall deep in love. Like Lizzy an' Mista Darcy. But now- now that the last thin' on my mind. I don' wanna dance with nobody- even if he ain't too ugly. "I'm flattered but I jus' not feelin' my best. Sick stomach," I lie, restin' my arms atop my stomach- that feelin' jus' fine. I make me features look all queasy though- jus fo' good measure.
"Oh- well let me get your chaperon then. Jus' tell me wha' she look like an' I'll be-"
"No," I snap- a little too quick an' a little too loud. "Wha' I mean is..."
Oh God, I dunno wha' I mean. "Well- she jus' busy righ' now," I mutter lamely. It ain't no excuse.
"Well that ain't an excuse," he say- exasperated. See- told ya- no excuse. "If you feelin' ill..." He trail off.
"Suddenly I feelin' much better."
I wipe the almos dried tears from my cheeks- my head turned away from him, of course, an' stand up. There is one thin' I'd hate mo' than dancin' right now- an' that bein' a lecture from the Misses.
I start walkin' then turn back to him. "You comin, or what?"
He smile, an' come after me. "'Course I comin'."
