by Kelly Oram
With one last glare at Wes, I try to calm myself down. I’m not angry at Regina. She seems nice and doesn’t deserve to be caught in the middle of our drama. “This day’s not going to involve any needles, is it?”
“I—um…” Regina’s eyes bounce back and forth between Wes and me several more times before she regains her composure. Some of the light has left her eyes, but she still manages to pull together a smile for me. “I can give you enough warning to close your eyes if I need to poke anyone.”
“Thanks.” My gratitude is sincere, and it breaks the tension enough for Regina to regain her focus and get to work.
Wes and I don’t speak through the entire tour. I feel his eyes on me a lot, but I refuse to acknowledge him. It’s just better for everyone. I’ll give him Spencer’s super secret jewelry box at the end of the day, and then I’ll tell Mrs. Schneider I can’t do the internship.
Regina takes us all over the hospital, explaining the various departments, what they do, and when we might need to go there. The hospital is cold, and I’m uncomfortable, but the staff is a lot friendlier than I expected. We’re greeted with cheerful smiles and welcomes every time Regina stops to introduce us to people.
Along the way, several people greet Wes as if he’s a close, personal friend. A woman in the radiology department even grabs him up in a hug. “Wes, don’t you look handsome in those scrubs. I heard about the internship. Congratulations!”
He meets my curious gaze with a fleeting glance as he lightly returns the woman’s hug. “Thanks, Wendy.”
“Have you gone to see Rosie yet?”
Wes laughs. “Not yet.”
The radiologist’s tone becomes stern, and she points a threatening finger at him. “You make sure you do that before you leave. You’ll break that girl’s heart if you don’t go show off the new uniform.”
I have to suppress a grin when he rubs the back of his neck and mumbles his reply to his shoes. “I’ll stop by.”
The entire exchange is baffling to me, but the oddity doesn’t stop there. Wes is on a first-name basis with half of the staff in the cancer ward. We have to stop many times for Wes to receive congratulations. Most of the doctors and nurses he tells about the internship insist he come to them first if he needs any personal referrals for his college applications.
Our first shift is only three hours long, and it goes by very fast. I stay quiet most of the day, refusing to ask the million questions I have in my mind. Wes knows I’m curious, but since I don’t ask, he doesn’t offer up any explanations. He seems just as content to let me stay quiet and leave him alone, though he can’t stop stealing glances at me when he thinks I’m not looking.
By the end of the day, we’ve hardly said two words to each other. We don’t even say good-bye. I tell Regina I’m going to go grab my things, and Wes mumbles something about going to see Rosie. I can’t resist another suspicious glance but, again, Wes doesn’t explain. He just nods once and then heads toward the patient wing.
“Bailey?” Regina’s soft voice makes me realize I’m watching Wes walk away. I shake myself from my thoughts and force a smile. “How did you like it?”
She fusses with her ponytail as she waits for my answer. I don’t want to let her down, but I’m not sure I can fake enough enthusiasm, so I decide to be honest. “I don’t know. The kids were all sweet, but it’s so sad. I’m not sure if I’m cut out for this.”
I can tell my attempt to cop out is what she expected, but her face still falls with disappointment. “Well, for what it’s worth, you did really well today, and I hope you’ll decide to give it more of a chance.”
When I don’t automatically agree, she worries her lip and says, “If it’s because of whatever’s between you and Wes, I’m sure we can assign you to separate tasks. You won’t have to work with each other if you don’t want to.”
My eyes nearly pop out of my head. Of course the tension between us was obvious. We mostly handled ourselves maturely and professionally, but I’m still embarrassed, and I feel the need to redeem myself. I can’t leave now because she would know I’m just running from Wes. My dignity won’t let that happen. “It’s fine,” I say, wishing my face wasn’t so hot. “You don’t have to separate us.”
“So, you’ll stay?”
“I’ll stay at least through the forty hours I need for my graduation requirement. That should be long enough to give me a real feel for the job, right?”
“Yes.” Regina claps her hands and gives me a big, bright smile. “That will be plenty of time for me to convince you to stay.” She sees the confusion on my face and answers my question before I can ask it. “There’s something about you, Bailey. Those kids were drawn to you today. They liked you. I don’t know what it is, but—”
“Empathy.”
Regina and I both startle at the voice. Wes is back and has his backpack slung over his shoulder. “Rosie’s sleeping, but I left her a note promising I’d come back and show her my scrubs.”
Regina smiles. “She’ll love that. I bet she’ll even sleep with it under her pillow tonight.”
With a roll of his eyes and another adorable blush, he shifts uncomfortably and glances at me. Regina decides that’s her cue to pick up her conversation. “What were you saying about empathy?”
I expect Wes to look away, but he meets my gaze. “Most of the staff here are sympathetic to the kids, but your compassion is different. You understand the heartache they’re going through better, because you’ve felt it yourself. You hurt like they do. You’re sad like they are, lonely like they are. You get it, and they can feel that. Giving you the internship was a good call.”
He says that last bit almost grudgingly and nods as if he’s trying to convince himself it’s the truth. My heart is an odd mixture of emotions. I feel like I should be insulted, but what he said was the truth. I can’t even be mad at him for pointing it out, because he and I are the same that way. He gets it, too.
The silence becomes awkward again, but the ever-perky Regina pushes through it. “Definitely the right call. The two of you are going to be our best interns ever. I’ve got to run now, but I’ll see you both back here on Sunday, yeah?”
We both nod, and then Regina skips off, leaving the two of us alone together. There’s a horrible few seconds that feel like an eternity where Wes and I just stand there avoiding eye contact. Eventually, I manage to kick-start my body into motion. I shoulder my bag with my clothes in it—Wes and I are both still wearing our scrubs—and clear my throat. “I guess I’ll see you Sunday.”
Wes follows me to the elevator and stands right next to me as I wait for the doors to open, then walks alongside me through the hospital to the main exit. We make it all the way out the front door before I break the silence. When I step toward the parking lot and Wes turns right, heading for the main road like he’s going to walk, I say, “Do you want a ride home?”
He turns around, shielding himself from the low evening sun with his hand. His eyes are shadowed, so I can’t see the look on his face, can’t tell what he’s thinking. He doesn’t answer right away, and I feel stupid for offering. “Forget it. I was just trying to be nice.”
Only after I reach my car do I hear his footfalls slap the pavement behind me as he hurries to catch up. “I’m sorry,” he calls out. “I didn’t mean to be a jerk today. I just—I don’t know how to do this.”
Fumbling my keys in the car door, I turn to face Wes. He’s much closer than I expected him to be, and I nearly bump into his chest. He doesn’t step back, and I can’t. I’m leaning against the door of my car. We’re so close I have to tilt my chin up to see his face. “You don’t know how to do what?”
We’re standing much too close. My eyes focus on his lips. Whether I’m remembering or imagining what they feel like, I don’t know. I don’t mean to look there, but I can’t pull my gaze away, either.
Wes sucks in a sharp breath and takes a step back. The spell he had me under is broken, and I’m horrified. “I don’t know how to be your f
riend,” he says gruffly. “Being around you is very…difficult for me.”
I close my eyes against the threat of tears. The rejection is nothing new—he’s hated being around me for years, and that was before I got his best friend killed—but it still hurts. I turn to unlock my car again, and this time I succeed.
“Wait, that didn’t come out right.”
“It sounded crystal clear to me.”
I yank the door open so fast that Wes has to jump out of the way to avoid being slammed by it. Muttering curses under his breath, he drops his backpack to the ground and grabs onto the door before I can pull it closed. “At least let me explain.”
“There’s nothing to explain,” I snap. I’m not really mad at him, but I’m so embarrassed that I react defensively. “It isn’t exactly easy for me to be around you, either, you know.”
Wes’s eyes narrow into suspicious slits. “Then why did you accept the internship? You knew I was going to be here. Why come if you didn’t even want the job?”
As Wes waits for an answer, I start to say I did it for Spencer, but I realize it’s more than that. Wes was my best friend once, and he loved Spencer as much as I did. Looking into his angry eyes, I realize that I want to make amends for me, not just for Spencer. “I did it because I wanted… I thought maybe…”
Words fail me. How do you tell someone who hates you and blames you for the death of his best friend that you miss him? I want to find a way to put the past behind us and gain back something we’ve lost, but that obviously isn’t going to happen. Bitterness grabs hold of my heart, and I shut off my feelings again. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
Wes jolts. I’m pretty sure he’s guessed what I’m thinking. I need to leave before I humiliate myself any further. “You thought…?” he presses.
“Nothing.” I’m not going to grovel for a friendship he hasn’t wanted since we were thirteen. I grab the dirt-covered Hello Kitty jewelry box from off the floor in the passenger seat and thrust it out the window. “Here. I brought this for you.”
Wes’s eyes bulge when he recognizes the time capsule. “How did you—where did you get…” He’s so shocked he can’t finish his sentence.
“I just found it, okay? It has yours and Spencer’s names written on it in black magic marker, so I thought you might want it.” I give the box a shake, urging him to take it from me.
He grabs the old time capsule and studies it carefully, wiping his hand over the sloppily written names and date, cleaning the dirt off the writing. He swallows. “I can really keep this?”
I shrug. “Why not? It was obviously something between you and Spencer. I’m sure it means more to you than me.”
Wes’s hands close around the jewelry box as if he plans to never let it go again. Whatever’s in it is now one of his most valued treasures. Spencer was right. Wes did need this. He’s still staring at the box when he says, “Thanks, Bay.”
His voice has gone so soft and distant that it makes me uncomfortable. “It’s no problem.”
Wes’s eyes suddenly snap wide and flash to me. “Did you open it?”
I smirk at the hint of panic in his voice. “I had every right to look inside, seeing as how it’s my jewelry box, you thief. But, no, I didn’t open it. It does say ‘top secret’ on it, after all.”
Wes lets out a breath I didn’t realize he was holding. He’s really nervous about me seeing whatever is inside the box—as nervous as Spencer was. I should have looked. The curiosity is driving me crazy. When Wes gives me a skeptical look and says, “You really didn’t look in it?” I scoff.
“I don’t want to know what super secret boy stuff you two dorks put in a time capsule when you were twelve.”
Wes’s head jerks back, and he blinks at me once before bursting into laughter. I laugh, too, and shake my head. “It’s probably just a bunch of football trading cards and decade-old Ding Dongs anyway.”
“Moon Pies,” Wes corrects with a chuckle. “I always liked Moon Pies the best.”
When our laughter settles down, it dawns on me that Wes is smiling at me. I’ve seen his smile a million times, memorized it because it’s a beautiful smile that could melt any girl’s heart. But that smile hasn’t been directed at me in years. The grin falls from Wes’s face when he comes to the same realization. His bitterness and anger are gone now, but his expression smooths out again. He steps back from my car, holding up the time capsule. “Thank you for this.”
I’m sad that things have gone stiff between us again. Hopefully giving him the box will be enough to appease Spencer’s ghost, because I’m never going to break through Wes’s walls. He doesn’t want to be my friend. I nod and start my car. “You’re welcome.”
“Don’t give up on him, Bailey,” Spencer’s voice urges from the backseat.
I glance in my rearview mirror and see Spencer’s desperate, pleading eyes. Sighing, I look back at Wes. “Are you sure I can’t give you a ride home?”
Wes’s eyes slide along the body of my car before finding my face again. For a moment, he looks tempted. He glances toward the road and rubs a hand over his shaved hair but then shakes his head. “That’s okay. It’s not very far.” He wets his lips and adds, “I’ll see you Sunday, though.”
His acknowledgement of seeing me again lessens the sting of his rejection a little, but my heart still aches as I watch him walk away.
“He’ll come around, Bay.” Spencer’s now sitting next to me in the front seat. I give him a smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. I hope he’s right, but it’s hard to believe.
Saturday brings my dress-shopping trip with Mom, Julia, and Charlotte. We take the train in order to avoid having to drive into the city. I don’t have to talk much. Mom and Julia fire so many questions at Charlotte that there’s no need for me to join the conversation. I enjoy Charlotte’s answers, though.
Charlotte’s lived an interesting life, having been raised by her father and his teammates because her mom split when she was little. She’s funny, too. There’s no shortage of laughter on the train ride, which is good because Julia has been mad at me all week, but she seems to have forgotten that now.
We head to the East Village first, on Charlotte’s recommendation. She’s into unique things, and there are several boutiques she loves that have current fashion mixed with a bit of vintage flair. After spending three minutes in the first store, I know I’m going to love her style.
Charlotte and Julia head to a rack of short dresses, but I’m more of a floor-length girl—always wanted to be a princess in a castle and all—so I wander to the other side of the store to check out some of the gowns. Mom comes with me. She flips through a few dresses, but her eyes are across the room, watching Charlotte and Julia give each other fashion advice.
“Charlotte’s really nice.” Mom breaks from her stare to smile at me. “I’m glad you befriended her. It sounds like she really needs some good girl friends.”
I nod but can’t think of anything else to say to this.
“I’m glad you’re going to the dance, too.”
I spy a beautiful pale pink gown with capped sleeves covered in sheer pink lace and instantly fall in love. “Maybe it will be fun,” I admit as I pull the dress from the rack and hold it up to myself.
Mom gasps. “Oh, honey, it’s beautiful!”
At her declaration, a saleswoman approaches us, nodding enthusiastically. “It’s lovely. And with your complexion and coloring, it will be absolutely stunning. Would you like to try it on?”
“Yeah, try it on, Bay,” Spencer says suddenly.
I startle, having not seen him yet this morning, but I quickly smile. I’m glad he’s here. The saleswoman assumes my smile is for the dress and opens a dressing room for me. I half expect Spencer to follow me into the stall, but he plays the role of a gentleman and stays with my mother.
My eyes burn as I zip myself into the gown and face the mirror. I haven’t put on a formal dress since I bought my homecoming dress last year. I’d loved my dress so much bu
t had refused to let Spencer see it before the dance. I wouldn’t even tell him what color it was. I wanted to surprise him. He’d hounded me for weeks to give him a hint, but I never gave in, and then he died having never seen it. The dress is still hanging in my closet at home. I’ll never wear it, but I can’t bring myself to get rid of it, either.
I’m grateful this dress looks nothing like that dress. If I’m really going to do this, I need a fresh start. I stare at myself in the mirror for a moment. I’ve lost a little weight, and there are dark circles around my eyes, but the dress is so perfect that my cheeks flush a little, bringing some much-needed color to my face. I twist my hair up behind my head, imagining different ways I could do it, and suddenly I can picture myself at the dance.
Taking a deep breath, I step out of the stall and let my mother and Spencer see. Mom looks at me and stifles a gasp with her hand. Spencer covers his mouth, too, but it’s to hide a laugh.
“It’s beautiful,” the saleswoman starts to gush, until she notices the frown on my face.
Spencer tries to look repentant and fails. “Sorry. You’re beautiful, of course, but you look like a Disney princess in that dress.”
“What’s wrong with it?” Mom asks. She’s got that hesitant afraid-she’s-about-to-set-me-off tone in her voice. “It’s a stunning dress, Bailey. Honest.”
I turn to face a full-length mirror, and, though I love the dress, I can see Spencer’s point. “Maybe it’s a little too Sleeping Beauty.”
“I agree. It’s not the one,” Charlotte says. She and Julia are both standing behind me, examining my dress.
Julia nods, too. “I think you need something a little more modern.”
“Something classic,” Mom says.
“Something red,” Spencer adds with a wicked smile. “And short. Something dangerous.”
His answer surprises me so much, I respond without thinking. “Something red and dangerous?”