The Rest of the Story

by Sarah Dessen

  “You don’t, actually,” Bailey replied. “Because I’m sure we’ll take some once we’re there, as a group. And anyway, we’re running late. There’s no time for anything else.”

  Celeste looked at Mimi, who shrugged. “Fine,” she said. “But I want to meet these boys before you leave with them. Especially the famous Colin.”

  Bailey rolled her eyes. Then she pulled out her phone, quickly firing off another text. When I glanced at her screen and saw it was the fourth in a row with no response, I quickly messaged Blake, asking for an update.

  Be there in ten, he wrote back immediately. Meet me outside.

  “Look,” I said, showing Bailey. “Everything’s fine.”

  “Why does he want you to meet him outside, though?” she asked worriedly, squinting at the message.

  “You’re the one who just said they’re running late,” I pointed out. “Bailey. It’s fine.”

  She did not look convinced, though, as Mimi and Celeste headed into the house, telling us to yell when the boys arrived. Gordon stayed on the steps. “I just want to get there,” Bailey said, looking at the Club, which we could see, lit up across the water, from where we were standing. “I hate all this waiting.”

  “It’s fifteen minutes,” I assured her, but this she ignored, already checking her phone again.

  A moment later, a car did turn into the Calvander’s lot. It wasn’t Colin and Blake, though, but Jack, returning from work at the Station with Roo in tow. As they made their way toward us, I suddenly felt shy, standing there in what he’d picked out for me. But when he saw me in it, he grinned.

  “Really like the dress,” he said, looking me up and down. “But you know what it’s missing?”

  “A cape?” I asked.

  He gave me a thumbs-up. “You got it.”

  I laughed, but Bailey just looked at him. “Shut up, Roo. She looks great.”

  “Whoa,” he said, holding up a hand. “I was—”

  “It’s an inside joke,” I explained.

  “Yeah, I’m just kidding around, Bay,” Roo told her.

  “Well, don’t,” she told him. “You can’t just show up when someone’s done all this work to get ready and make fun of them. That’s a jerk move.”

  “Nobody’s making fun of anyone,” Jack said to her. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing. I just don’t know why you’re here if you can’t be nice.”

  “Because I live here?” He shook his head. “Man. Talk about self-centered. It’s not just about you all the time, you know.”

  Bailey looked like she was about to respond to this—and hotly—but then another car slowed, turning into the lot. It was Blake, in a black Toyota, and the first thing I noticed was that he looked nice in his tux. The second was that he was alone.

  “Where’s Colin?” Bailey yelled at him, as soon as he parked. When he didn’t hear her, or pretended not to, she started walking up the sloping grass toward him. Gordon, a finger now marking her place in her book, watched her go.

  “What’s her problem?” Jack asked me, but I didn’t answer, my eyes only on Bailey as Blake got out from behind the wheel. When she said something to him, he just shrugged, then waved at me.

  “We’re late,” he called out. “Come on.”

  “Where’s Colin?” I replied, but he didn’t hear me over Bailey, who was now repeating this same question, but with more emotion. Enough, in fact, that he started to get back in the car, shooting me another look first.

  “Something’s up,” Jack reported, his eyes on both of them. I started walking.

  “Look, enough with the bullshit,” Bailey was saying, her voice cracking slightly, when I came up. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

  “I told you,” Blake replied. Seeing me, he reached over, pushing open the passenger door. “I’m not part of all this.”

  “Actually, you are. You’re his best friend.”

  “Saylor,” Blake said to me across the empty seat. As if she wasn’t even there, breathing hard, close to tears. “Let’s go. We’re meeting everyone there.”

  “I can’t go with you,” I said, and I did look at Bailey, who bit her lip. “Not without her.”

  “Well, fine. Then you can both stay here,” he replied. “It’s not worth all this trouble.”

  Trouble, to expect someone to do what they said they would. Then again, he was someone to whom things came easily, always: a job, a future, a girl. I said, “Yes or no: Is Colin coming?”

  Blake, still avoiding looking anywhere near Bailey’s direction, closed his eyes for a second. “No,” he said finally. “He’s not.”

  I heard Bailey exhale, a shaky, long breath. Back by the steps, Jack and Roo were still watching us.

  “Why not?” Bailey said to him now.

  “I don’t know,” he replied, cranking the engine. To me he said, “Can we go, please?”

  “Answer her question,” I said.

  “Because he’s with the girl he asked a month ago!” Blake said. “His girlfriend, from school.”

  I was stunned. Bailey said, “Colin has a girlfriend?”

  “Yeah,” he said, as if we were stupid for not knowing it. “They have an understanding, just like he had with you.”

  Bailey was just standing there, eyes wide, her phone in her hands. She turned to me. “What does that even mean?”

  “That he’s an asshole,” I replied.

  “Enough about Colin, Jesus!” Blake said. He looked at me. “Are you getting in or not?”

  I looked at my cousin, in the dress on which she’d spent so much time and effort, her makeup applied so carefully it was perfect. She didn’t deserve this. Nobody did.

  “Not,” I told Blake.

  In response, he threw up a hand, then hit the gas, spraying some gravel as he pulled away. I watched him turn out onto the road, cursing us, and kept my eyes on him until he was out of sight. Only then did I turn back to Bailey, who was now standing with her arms around herself, her face streaked with tears. What could I even say at this moment? What words would even make any difference? I didn’t know where, or how, to start. But as it turned out, I didn’t have to.

  “Bailey,” Jack said. He was standing there, his own keys in hand. Roo was coming up the grass behind him. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Thirteen

  “I can’t believe this,” Bailey said. She turned around, her face tear-streaked, and looked at me. “Can you?”

  I shook my head as, distantly, I heard her phone beep again. About five minutes earlier, Celeste had realized we’d left without saying goodbye. Seriously pissed, she was making her displeasure clear with a series of angry texts, none of which Bailey had responded to so far. All she had been capable of, really, was sitting in the passenger seat and crying while Jack drove us, well, someplace.

  The phone beeped again. Bailey leaned her head against the window, closing her eyes. “I can’t tell Mom what happened,” she said. “It’s so humiliating and she’ll just say she told me so.”

  “No, she won’t,” Jack said, glancing in the rearview.

  “Yeah, right. All she and Trinity have done all summer is say how Colin is going to break my heart. And now he has. They’ll be thrilled.”

  “More likely, they’ll want to kill him,” Roo, who was beside me in the back seat, said. “I’d be more worried about that. Trinity’s temper these days is off the charts.”

  Bailey, reaching up to wipe her eyes, didn’t smile at this comment, but I did. “He’ll just need to stand still,” I said, thinking of her struggling cleaning with her huge belly. “And not be on a low or high shelf.”

  Roo snorted, which made me laugh out loud, and then we were both cracking up. Bailey turned around to look at us again.

  “You guys aren’t funny,” she informed us as we composed ourselves, or tried to. “And Saylor, you just got dumped as well, in case you didn’t notice.”

  “Easy come, easy go.” I couldn’t think of a phrase that fit the situation more.


  “I thought you liked Blake!” she said.

  I shrugged. “It was fun and all, but . . . I think I’ll be fine.”

  Her phone beeped. Then once more. If it could have screamed, it would have.

  “Give me that,” Roo said to Bailey, holding out his hand. “I’ll explain to Celeste what happened.”

  She handed it over to him and he started typing a response. With him and Jack both on the same side of the car, dressed in shorts and T-shirts, and Bailey and me in our formal wear on the other, we looked like we were headed to very different evenings. Which made me think of something.

  “Where are we even going?” I asked Jack. We’d turned left out of Calvander’s, heading toward the main road, but at some point we had entered a neighborhood with narrow streets and trees strung with moss. Through my open window, I could smell the lake, but not see it.

  “Green house,” he said, as if I knew what this was.

  O-kay, I thought. Bailey sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “I can’t believe I spent all this money and time on this dress. I’m so stupid.”

  “You’re not,” Roo said, still typing.

  “He has a girlfriend.” Her voice broke on the final syllable. “Why did he even ask me if he already had a date?”

  I thought back to that night at the Campus apartment, how Colin had gotten up and left when the subject of Club Prom came up, only to finally invite her when they were outside. He probably figured he’d just dump her before the dance, so it wouldn’t come back to bite him. And now he was at the Club, far away from the pain he’d caused.

  Jack slowed the car, turning down a dirt driveway. It was long, and bumpy with tree roots, but as we came over a rise, I saw a little green house, the lake behind it. A skinny dock extended out into the water. April and Vincent stood on it, a cooler on a bench nearby. The sun was just going down.

  “I can’t do this,” Bailey said as we parked behind a blue pickup. “It’s so embarrassing.”

  “These are your friends,” Jack told her. “Nobody gives a shit.”

  She sighed, but pushed her door open. Then she bent down, undoing the strappy sandals she’d been so excited to find almost new at Bly County Thrift. She left them on the floorboard as she climbed out, shutting the door behind her.

  I kept my shoes on. “What is this place, again?” I asked.

  Roo, a few steps ahead, turned back to look at me. “My house. Come on.”

  I raised a hand to cover my eyes just as Bailey started down to the dock, her dress flowing out a bit behind her. When she got to the end, April, who was standing there, looked up at her.

  “Boys STINK,” she announced, then opened her arms. Blinking fast, Bailey stepped into them. Vincent, standing just nearby with a beer in his hand, looked at them for a second, then out to the lake.

  “Yacht club boys,” Jack announced as the rest of us made our way out to the end. “Get it right, please.”

  “I’m so stupid,” Bailey groaned, now resting her head on April’s shoulder. “I thought he was a good guy.”

  “Because you are a trusting, wonderful person,” April told her, patting her on the back. “Vincent, get this girl a beer. She needs it.”

  Vincent complied, kicking open the cooler and pulling out a dripping can. He wiped it on his shirt, then handed it to Bailey, saying, “I’m sorry. For what it’s worth.”

  “Nothing,” she replied, and he laughed. “But thanks anyway.”

  “Great dress,” April said to me.

  “Thanks.”

  “I picked it out,” Roo said, helping himself to a beer. When he held one out to me, I shook my head.

  “Really?” April cocked her head to the side. “Wow. Since when are you a stylist?”

  “Sixth job,” he said, popping the beer.

  She looked at me. “Is he kidding? I can never tell if he’s kidding.”

  Suddenly, I was the expert. I didn’t mind. “I think so,” I told her. “But again, I’m new here.”

  She smiled at me, then turned back to Bailey, who was now facing the water, looking at the yacht club in the distance. “Hey,” she said, “don’t torture yourself, all right? You’re better off. When Dana went to Club Prom last year, she said everyone was super snooty and into themselves. Who wants to deal with that?”

  “Me,” Bailey said softly. “For just one night, anyway. And I couldn’t even get that.”

  “There will be other dances,” April said. “Trust me.”

  “What?” Bailey scoffed. “Prom in the gym with some guy I’ve known my whole life? Sorry, not the same.”

  Vincent, hearing this, turned and looked back up at the house, putting his own can to his lips. I caught his eye and smiled. A beat later, he smiled back, although his mind was clearly on other things.

  “Then let’s have a dance,” April said.

  “Where?” Jack asked.

  “Here.” When we all just looked at her, she sighed. “What? I’m on the party committee at my sorority. All we need is some lights and music.”

  “You want to throw a dance in my house?” Roo asked. “Have you forgotten how small it is inside?”

  “We’ll move the furniture,” she told him.

  “Where?” Jack asked again.

  “Outside,” she replied, sounding annoyed. “Look, our friend is sad and this will make her happy. Saylor, too.”

  “I’m not really sad,” I pointed out.

  “But you are all dressed up for a magical night, and you should get one,” April told me. She clapped her hands, grinning. “Okay, I love this idea. It’s perfect.”

  “Perfect would be us over there, where we’re supposed to be,” Bailey said morosely. “And anyway, I’m not in the mood.”

  “But you are in a dress,” Jack said. “What else are you going to do?”

  “Drink away my sorrows,” she replied.

  “You can still do that while you’re pushing the couch outside,” April told her. “Follow me.”

  When Taylor arrived a little later, I was nervous, considering our first face-to-face encounter had almost ended with her kicking my ass. But her apology had obviously been for real. So far, she was being perfectly nice.

  “Okay, who needs a corsage?” she asked from the small kitchen table where she was sitting, bent over a bowl of gardenia blossoms and some stickpins. “If you don’t look too closely, they’re actually not bad.”

  “If this was a real dance—” April said.

  “It’s not,” Bailey told her from the couch, which she’d only left long enough for the guys to move it outside to the front porch. The house was tiny, though, and the door open, so she might as well have been inside.

  “—then we wouldn’t be putting on our own corsages,” April finished. “The boys would do it for us.”

  We all looked out at the deck, where Jack, Vincent, and Roo were still all gathered around the cooler. “I am not,” Bailey said, “going to let my brother pin a corsage on me for this fake dance. It would be even more humiliating than anything else that’s happened so far. Which is really saying something.”

  “Jack’s with me, remember?” Taylor told her. “So you don’t have to worry about that.”

  “Great.” Bailey took a gulp of her beer. “Now I don’t even have a fake date to the fake dance.”

  April raised an eyebrow. “Slow down with those beers over there. The night is young.”

  “This night sucks,” Bailey replied.

  Taylor, piercing a stem with a pin, sighed. “Fine. Be that way.”

  I actually felt kind of bad for her. “I’ll take one,” I said. “If that’s okay.”

  She looked up at me. “Sure! Whichever you want, although the smaller ones are holding together better.”

  I went over to the table, where she had laid out three little bundles of gardenias and stems so far, each pierced with a pin. The tiny kitchen smelled of nothing but their scent. I picked one from the middle, holding it up to the strap of my dress.<
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  “Too small,” Taylor said, handing me a larger one. “Try this.”

  “I wish I’d known I was going to a formal tonight,” April said. “I would have worn something else.”

  “You could run home and change,” Taylor suggested, bent over the flowers again.

  “No, I like the DIY aspect of this. Making do with what we have.” April, her hands on her hips, surveyed the room. “Okay, so we have the lights up—”

  “It looks like Christmas,” Bailey, continuing her role as the dark shadow of the evening, observed. “Which is also depressing.”

  “Bailey. Enough with the gloom and doom, okay?” April said.

  “Yeah, listen to your party planner. They’ll be great once we turn them on,” Taylor said. Bailey, unconvinced, looked out at the water again. “Wasn’t Roo supposed to be finding a power strip?”

  “He was,” April replied. She walked over to the open door. “Roo!”

  Outside, he turned his head. “Yeah?”

  “Power strip?”

  “Oh. Right.” He put down his beer on the bench. “Coming.”

  As he jogged up the dock, then came in the back door, brushing his feet on a mat, I took another look around me. Where Mimi’s house was big, airy, and full of windows, the place where Roo lived with his mom was small and cozy. The tiny kitchen, with its metal countertops and collection of sea glass lining the windowsill, opened into a bigger space, which held the couch (now outside) and a worn leather recliner, both facing a small TV. The table where Taylor sat, plain wood with four chairs, made up the only dining area somewhere in the middle.

  Normally, small spaces made me anxious. But I felt different here. I had since the moment I’d stepped inside, following April with Bailey dragging along, complaining, behind me. There was just a comfort to it, even before I saw the fridge.

  It wasn’t the appliance itself, which was white with a few rust spots. What drew me were the pictures that were scattered among the receipts and lists also adhered to the surface. Unlike the counter in the Calvander’s office, there were only a handful here, which made each of them seem that much more important.