by Marci Bolden
Tracing the raised design again, she remembered how the kids had carried their books around asking for signatures and excitedly exchanged notes in the pages. Darby had stuffed hers into her backpack and pretended it wasn’t there. She might have been able to get one or two people to sign something, but she had been too shy to ask.
The pages intentionally left blank for friends to leave each other notes and promises for forever friendship were still blank.
Darby opened the cover, and it creaked with resistance. Had she ever even opened this back then? She didn’t think so. This was probably the first time she’d ever even considered looking through the memory book.
She wasn’t in any of the pictures anyway. She hadn’t belonged to clubs or joined in activities. The one and only photo of her would be the headshot the school had provided. Her mom hadn’t been able to afford a senior photo shoot, and Darby hadn’t wanted one anyway. By her senior year, she had zero self-esteem, and the last thing she wanted was someone focusing a camera on her.
Besides, other than her family, who she barely knew since most of them were still in Mexico City, she didn’t have anyone to share the photos with. Even if her mom had been able to afford a photographer and a big photo package like most of the other seniors, it would have been a huge waste of money.
Darby flipped through the images in the book, skimming familiar faces of people who had never taken notice of her. They were all smiling and goofing off, happy to have their lives captured. Their friendships were evident in the photos. Most of them probably only communicated via social media these days—that was how those high school friendships went—but it must have been nice, on some level, to have someone from the past remember them.
Unlike the people selected to grace the pages of the yearbook, Darby had been a ghost in the hallways of her school. She’d moved through crowds and classrooms like an apparition. She’d liked it that way. Or so she thought.
Looking back now, she was sad she hadn’t tried to push out of that cage some of her peers had put her into. Maybe if she’d tried a few activities or joined a club, she would have found friends like the ones she had now. Maybe there’d be one or two pictures of her with her group hamming it up for the photographer. Maybe she would be able to look back without bitterness filling her heart.
She flipped through the pages one at a time, skimming and remembering until a photo caught her attention. There, far in the background of a photo taken in the cafeteria, sat a teenage Darby Zamora. Her nose was in a book as life went on around her. Her head down, her eyes focused on anything but the people around her.
Tears burned the back of her eyes as her heart ached for that girl she used to be. Lonely. Sad. Isolated. Her mom and her books had been her closest confidants. Her only friends. Darby traced the black-and-white image of herself blurry in the background.
That was so fitting. The colors were dull and her image was vague, almost indistinguishable from the surroundings. She’d become so adept at blending in, most people probably never even noticed her in the background.
Flipping through more photos, she scanned the blurry images instead of the students who’d been the focus to see if there was more of her. She hadn’t seen another image of herself until she stopped on the last page of senior pictures. Darby flipped back to look at Jennifer’s photo. The contrast between their images was as stark as Darby remembered.
Pale-skinned, blonde-haired, plain Jennifer was just as geeky, but somehow she wore it better. Clearly, she had been far more comfortable with her place in the world than Darby had been with hers.
Jennifer’s smile was perfect from the braces and headgear she’d worn in middle school. Her hair had been slicked back into a perfect ponytail. She’d clearly been posed as a photographer snapped the photo with the lake in the background. Unlike Darby’s school-issued headshot, Jennifer had chosen one of those fun senior portraits to share in the book.
Next to Jennifer’s bright, shining face was olive-skinned, dark-haired, and nerdy as could be Darby, in a plain T-shirt with her frizzy hair pulled into a lumpy ponytail and a flat smile on her lips. Her acne had flared up the week before school photos were taken, so her picture highlighted her shiny forehead and purple marks from the barely healed breakout. Her cheeks were rounded, and her eyes were haunted.
Considering they had similar social statuses, they should have had similar hurt in their eyes, they should have been bearing similar scars, but somehow they were the complete opposite of each other. Seeing how much made Darby’s soul ache. She wished she could go back and talk to her high school self. She wished she could tell Wallflower Darby that everything was going to work out.
“Don’t look so sad,” she’d tell her teenage self. “You’re going to find yourself and have the best friends you could ever ask for. It’s going to be okay.” Then she’d give herself a hug because she remembered all too well how much she could have used hugs back then.
She closed the book and tossed it aside. She didn’t want to dwell on the past any longer. She couldn’t change how people—including herself—saw her back then. Changing the past was impossible.
All she could do was focus on the present. And the present wasn’t going so well.
Darby snagged a tissue and wiped her eyes before tears could roll down her cheeks. She never meant to be a bully—she was bullied and knew far too well what that felt like. Never in a million years would she ever want to be that person.
Falling back on her bed, Darby stared up at the ceiling. She had to figure this out. She had to figure out how to right this ship that was sinking.
In her mind, she heard Jade and Taylor all but begging her to remove the descriptions. And she heard Jade telling her she needed to post an apology. She heard Taylor suggesting she take the site down altogether.
For the first time since this began, Darby seriously considered that she had been seeing this entire situation through the wrong lenses.
Was she wrong? As much as Darby didn’t want to admit it, Jennifer had a point. Even if Darby hadn’t meant for people to take her website personally, some had, and she couldn’t tell them feeling like that was wrong.
She couldn’t tell them that feeling hurt was wrong.
Sure, she’d posted stories about anonymous people. But they were still about people. People who’d had their hearts broken.
Closing her eyes, Darby dropped her hand onto her forehead to slow her mind from spinning as she questioned everything.
Seven
Darby spent pretty much the entire next morning on her couch staring at her ceiling as the events of the last eight days rolled through her mind on repeat. From Noah’s show, the tense exchanges between Jade and Taylor, to sitting alone the night before fighting the urge to let the past consume her.
The feeling that she had been wrong all along was gaining strength and, with it, the shame and guilt that had gnawed at her after her confrontation with Jennifer. And as those sensations grew, so did the urge to hide away from the world and blend into the background like she’d done in that photo of her in the high school yearbook.
Being invisible was a safety net—and not necessarily a good one, but it was a comfortable one. One she was familiar with and knew she could do well. However, she didn’t want to feel like that miserable version of herself. She didn’t want Wallflower Darby to win again. She’d been struggling with that urge since this began. Sadly, her resolve was fading, and the reality of what her life had become was beginning to overwhelm her.
The part of her that had grown up and realized these feelings weren’t normal was screaming out to her. She heeded help. She recognized the signs. Depression was creeping up on her, and if she wasn’t careful, it would win.
Reaching out to Jade and Taylor, however, didn’t seem like the best idea. They had been pushing her to come to terms with what was now staring her right in the eye. She didn’t want to deal with any kind of I-told-you-so looks. They wouldn’t rub her nose in it—they were better than that. But
they certainly weren’t above casting knowing glances at each other.
Darby didn’t think she could stomach that. She simply didn’t have the strength for anyone to make her feel even worse, whether they did so intentionally or not.
So, instead, she’d burrowed deeper into her cocoon of self-pity.
When her phone dinged, letting her know she had a new text, her heart did a funny flip in her chest. It was the same anxious reaction she’d have whenever she was at school and someone noticed her. It didn’t matter if it was a teacher, a peer, or a coach. Being noticed caused her to shrink back like she’d been kicked with a cleat.
Dread. The feeling was dread.
Anxiety coming in waves and knocking her off-balance.
Fear of what was to come encompassing her and drowning out the light.
Though her fingers itched to answer, she ignored the text. She suspected it to be either Taylor or Jade, but there was a chance it could be someone else. Someone she didn’t want to hear from.
She didn’t want to know who was reaching out to her. She didn’t want to know what had gone wrong now. Sticking her head in the sand, or faux fur blankets as it were, was a much better option in her opinion.
She was perfectly content with her decision to let the world go on without her for a little bit longer until a breeze blew through her open window, carrying the scent of burning wood with it. Darby pulled her head from the covers, put her nose up higher, and sniffed to confirm what she’d smelled.
There was definitely a pile of wood burning. And accelerant. That combination could only mean one thing.
“Bonfire,” Darby whispered and then rolled off her couch to rush across the room. She peeked through the blinds to confirm.
Though it was the middle of the day, a fire was roaring in the outdoor space she and Jade shared. Sitting by the fire was one of their favorite things to do, but they usually wrapped up their days by the pit, not spent the afternoon out there.
Darby rolled her eyes back as she considered the date. It wasn’t anyone’s birthday. Not their friendiversary. As far as she could remember, it wasn’t a holiday.
Why were they having a fire in the middle of the afternoon? Why weren’t they at work like normal people?
As she continued pondering the reason they’d be out there like it was a Saturday evening instead of a workday afternoon, Taylor added another log to the fire while Jade pecked away on her phone. Moments later, Darby’s phone dinged again.
This time, she looked at the screen.
Come outside! Jade had texted the first time.
This time, she’d added, Tay brought lunch and stuff for s’mores.
Darby gasped. S’mores? Yes! Though Jade didn’t eat the sugary snacks, she was the absolute best at roasting the marshmallows. Darby tended to burn them, but Jade’s were always perfectly golden and gooey inside. Other than margaritas and ice cream from Harper’s, the fastest way to cheer Darby up was a perfectly made s’more.
“Yum,” Darby said as she clapped her hands together and started for the door, but then she stopped.
Only moments before, she’d been determined to not lean on Jade and Taylor to get through this. She’d been determined to sort this out on her own. The reminder made her hesitate. If she went out there, they would ask how things were going, and she would dump her problems on them, and then they would be determined to solve them.
That was the exact opposite of what she wanted or needed right now.
Maybe she should pass. Maybe she should tell them she was too busy. Or sleeping. Or suffocating in misery.
Come on! Jade texted. Please!
Darby twisted her lips as she considered if she should. The temptation of food, especially melted marshmallows and gooey chocolate, was too much to resist. She texted back, I don’t want to talk about Un-Do.
Okay, Jade replied.
I mean it!
Okay!
With that settled, Darby shoved her feet into a pair of fluffy pink flamingo slippers before rushing out the front door. As she headed toward the common area between hers and Jade’s cabins, Darby realized it wasn’t only the worries about what they’d say about Un-Do that had her unsettled. She had a lingering concern that Taylor and Jade were angry at each other because of their disagreements over Darby’s situation. If they started bickering again, Darby would probably have a complete breakdown right then. She couldn’t handle any more animosity than she was already dealing with.
Taylor had reassured her more than once via texts that she wasn’t mad at Jade. She was frustrated with the circumstances, but she wasn’t mad at anyone. She and Jade were fine. When Darby asked Jade, she’d told her the same thing. Jade had insisted that nobody was mad at anyone… They were all simply concerned.
Even so, Darby had been worried things would be tense between them because of her. Though she had been hesitant to join them, she realized now she needed to get out to the fire and make sure they spent plenty of time together to smooth over any hurt feelings caused by her decision to stand by her website. It was bad enough she had activated a ticking time bomb in her own life. She didn’t want to be the reason their friendship blew up too.
Darby hurried toward the fire, and as she neared the impromptu lunch, she noticed a pile of boxes from her favorite pizza place piled on the table. Her smiled widened as excitement filled her. She hadn’t even realized how hungry she was until she saw the logo on the box. Had she had breakfast? She couldn’t remember, so probably not. Which meant, this…this was her breakfast, and if her friends really loved her, there would be boneless buffalo wings and cheesy bread somewhere in that stack. As well as a deep-dish supreme pizza.
As she neared the sitting area, Taylor picked up a box and flipped the lid back.
Darby widened her eyes at the chicken wings covered in red sauce. “Oh, you’re the best.” She picked one up and shoved it into her mouth, doing a little jig as the spice coated her tongue. “Pizza?” she asked around the mouthful.
Jade held out a plate to her. “Just how you like it.”
A smile spread across Darby’s face, and warmth filled her heart. For the first time in almost twenty-four hours, the icky feeling in her stomach eased, like maybe she wasn’t the worst person in the world. Her smile softened as she realized that even if she wasn’t the worst person in the world, she’d likely moved a few spots closer in the last week.
She silently thanked whatever forces brought these women into her life, as she’d done so many times since they’d become friends. They were all so in tune with one another that it was frightening and amazing at the same time. She had needed them but hadn’t wanted to ask for help, yet here they were without even needing to be asked.
The three of them were the friendship version of soulmates. She’d have to ask Jade if there was such a thing. If she asked that in front of Taylor, she’d get uncomfortable like she did whenever feelings became the subject. Darby didn’t want to make Taylor uncomfortable when she’d gone out of her way to bring all this yummy food.
“I love you guys so much. I want you both to know how much I appreciate you. I know I’ve been a little hard to handle lately. I don’t mean to be. I’m sorry.”
“We’re all a little hard to handle sometimes,” Taylor acknowledged.
Jade blew her a kiss. “We love you, Darby. We understand you too. You’re forgiven.”
Taking her plate, Darby dropped into a seat and watched with a full heart as the other two women served themselves. Darby didn’t understand how Jade could possibly resist the delicious smells coming from the boxes, but she pried the top off a salad and squeezed an oil-based dressing over it. Taylor, on the other hand, was more like Darby and didn’t hesitate to add pizza, wings, and a slice of bread to her plate.
As Darby sank her teeth into the thick pizza with all its glorious toppings, she moaned with appreciation. This was perfect. Jade and Taylor weren’t fighting. The table was piled high with some of Darby’s favorite foods. The sun was shining, the bir
ds were chirping, and the water in the cove was calm. This was perfect.
Her mood had lightened significantly, but then she saw Taylor frown, and warning flares fired into the sky. Darby’s happiness crashed like the Hindenburg. Instantly, she assumed there was bad news. Another lecture. More pointing out how wrong Darby had been to add heartbreak to her dress descriptions. Or maybe, just maybe, Taylor’s good-natured picking about Darby’s style was about to take a darker turn and she was going to call her out for looking foolish like so many people on the website had done.
“Tay,” she hesitantly said after swallowing the food in her mouth. “What… What’s wrong?”
Jade stopped fussing with her salad to look up. One glance at Jade, at the way she furrowed her brow and tilted her head, confirmed she saw the stress on Taylor’s face too.
“Nothing,” Taylor said and stuffed her mouth with a buffalo wing. She faked a quick smile, but the corners of her mouth fell and the effort never reached her eyes, which looked sad. She was terrible at faking. She always had been.
“I don’t think so,” Jade stated. “If you frown any deeper, your face will implode.”
“I’m fine,” Taylor insisted again and licked her fingers as she looked out at the water. The short, aloof answer was her way of warning her friends to back off, but she should know better by now. That was not how this trio rolled. They tended to be all over one another’s problems. Like Taylor and Jade had been all over Darby’s since The Noah Joplin Show.
Jade’s face shifted from fun friend to concerned mother. Darby hoped Jade remembered Taylor wasn’t always keen on those maternal instincts being directed at her. Taylor’s mother had ended up in prison when Taylor was young. After that, Taylor had lived with her grandfather, who had taught her all about building things and avoiding her feelings. Which, Darby supposed, explained her grouchy old man attitude. No doubt she’d learned that from the man who’d raised her.
Darby lapped up Jade’s maternal affection like a dehydrated puppy. Taylor, however, tended to put up barbed wire barricades and haul out her stash of emotional grenades, which she tossed without thinking about the consequences. Whenever emotions hit too close to home for her, she withdrew and put up barriers.