"Lydia!" Jane stood up and pulled her sister away from Caroline. "Enough!"

The majority of the students on our side of the room had heard everything Lydia had said.

"I'm just having fun," Lydia protested. "You're so uptight." Her eyes grew wide and she started jumping up and down. "No. Way. This song was, like, THE song from camp last summer. I totally remember the routine we came up with." An up-tempo pop song started playing on the sound system, and before any of us could stop her, Lydia was on the dance floor, spinning around with her arms stretched out. In less than ten seconds, she cleared a space of about ten feet around her. She was relishing the attention.

Jane was horrified. "Please make her stop." Her voice was nearly inaudible.

I headed over to the platform. Lydia was doing something that looked like the Charleston, but with her usual manic energy. She started spinning her fists in the air and shouting "WOO!" every few seconds. I could hear the snickering as I passed through the crowd.

"Um, Lydia." I got as close to the platform as I could safely get without bringing too much attention to myself or getting kicked in the face by Lydia's current attempt to channel a Rockette.

The performance was pure agony to watch. How Lydia could've thought she was impressing people was beyond me. I wanted to look away, but it was one of those horrifying scenes that you just can't take your eyes off of. Just when I thought it couldn't get worse, she did jazz hands. Full-on, Broadway-style jazz hands.

When the song was over, Lydia took a deep bow. A few of the guys started whistling while the majority of the Longbourn girls were laughing. A few had even recorded the dance on their phones.

Poor, poor Jane.

"Oh!" Lydia exclaimed when the next song came on. I quickly grabbed her arm. "Lizzie, let me go!" she protested.

I ignored her and dragged her along until Colin stepped in my path.

"Why, Lydia, that was delightful," he said.

"Thanks!" she replied.

"You really have such a great enthusiasm. I haven't seen leaps like that since an evening I spent at the Joffrey Ballet during fall break last year. I remember that time of year so well because it was unseasonably warm. The program was a delightful one -- you may have enjoyed it yourself...."

Colin was making things worse. What we needed was to get Lydia out of there, but Colin was prolonging the embarrassment by giving a detailed review of her performance.

Finally, Jane couldn't take it anymore. She rushed over, grabbed Lydia, and walked her outside.

"Oh, well ..." Colin was taken aback by Lydia's abrupt departure. "So, Elizabeth, dare we take the dance floor again in hopes of repeating that splendid performance given by Lydia?" There wasn't an ounce of sarcasm in his voice. He was being completely sincere.

"I ..." I glanced at the door. I really needed to go help Jane. Or possibly prevent a murder.

Fortunately, Charlotte came to the rescue. "Colin, I was hoping you could tell me more about your family's sailboat." While Charlotte was getting an earful, I dashed outside. Jane was sitting on the curb, shivering.

"Jane," I said, "it's freezing out here. Come inside."

"I can't. I'm so humiliated."

"Where's Lydia?"

"I don't know -- and, honestly, I don't care. She ran off when I was trying to reason with her. She has zero respect for me, our family, our school, Charles...."

I didn't know what to say. I would do anything for Jane, but I couldn't turn back time.

"I want to go home," she said.

I headed back inside to get our things at the coat check.

Charles approached me. "Lizzie, is Jane okay?"

I handed our tickets over to the coat check person. "Yes, she's fine. She ... uh, she has a bit of a headache, so we're going to head home. It was really a great party, Charles. Thanks so much for inviting us."

Before Charles had a chance to respond, the girl at the coat check handed me Jane's coat. She bit her lip. "Um, the other coat isn't back here."

"I gave you the ticket."

Her cheeks became flushed. "I know, but that hanger's empty." "What?"

Charles grabbed both tickets from her hand and went behind the counter to look for my coat. But I had a sinking feeling that he wasn't going to find it.

"What's going on?" Colin came over, with Darcy behind him.

"Nothing," I said.

"This is ridiculous!" Charles exclaimed. "How could someone just walk off with somebody else's coat? I want to see the manager."

The girl looked nervous. "That's not necessary. What did it look like?"

"It was a gray peacoat, it came above my knees...."

The girl's eyes grew wide. "What brand?"

I looked back toward Colin and Darcy. "It was Old Navy."

"Oh ..." The color drained from the girl's face.

"What do you mean, 'oh'?" Charles was furious. This was the first time I'd ever seen him angry. And I also realized that he was standing up for me. My bottom lip started to quiver. I was used to being attacked, not defended.

"Some girls came over a few minutes ago to get their coats and one of them said she'd lost her claim and identified the coat. And, well, I didn't think ..." The girl was embarrassed. I knew what she was going to say: When there were all these expensive designer coats in the room, who would lie about having such a nonglamorous item of clothing?

"Just forget about it." I tried to keep my voice even.

"Lizzie, I'm so sorry." Charles was aghast.

"I'm going to go...."

Colin started to take off his blazer. "Here, at least take my jacket."

Charles took out his wallet. "You have to let me pay you for it. I'm horrified that something like this happened at my party. I can't believe it."

The thing was, I could believe it. Something had to happen this evening. I couldn't attend a party without some sort of humiliation. All along, I'd assumed somebody was going to throw something at me, or trip me, or set my hair on fire. But instead, they'd stolen from me. And not because they wanted what I had. Simply because they could.

I quickly waved away Colin's and Charles's generous offers and went into the winter night unprotected. The freezing cold was a reminder that things were never going to get easier.

Thirteen

I SPENT THE NEXT DAY AT WORK REPLAYING THE EVENING IN my head. All I had left were questions. What had Wick done last night instead of being with me? Would the pranks against me ever end? Would Lydia's behavior -- or her disclosure about their father -- affect Jane and her prospects? Were people really going to be so shallow and judgmental?

Unfortunately, I already knew that answer.

I raced out of the cafe the second my shift was over ... and found an unexpected visitor waiting for me outside.

Colin.

"Elizabeth, did you find your jacket?" He motioned toward Jane's red wool coat, which I was now going to be wearing until the end of winter.

"Unfortunately, no."

"Oh, I am sorry to hear that. I once lost a jacket that I loved very much. It was corduroy. No, tweed. Brownish gray. Really, it was a fine coat. My teddy bear had a matching one. We often wore them together. But then, one day, I left it in a park. When my mother and I went back for it, it was ... gone."

"I can see you miss it," I said, looking for an escape route.