by Kelly Oram
“What?” Mom asks, shocked.
My face heats up, and it takes all my self-control not to yell at Spencer when he starts laughing. As it is, I glare at him even though I’m sure it makes me look crazy.
“Sorry, Bay.”
He looks like he means it, but he’s still unable to wipe the grin from his face. I can’t stay mad at him.
“Nothing,” I mumble to all the non-dead people present. “I didn’t mean that. I was just…” My voice trails off because I have no excuse.
“Just on to something brilliant,” Charlotte says. “I know the perfect store to take you to. We’ll go there next.”
Mom and Julia are still gaping at me in stunned silence, but Charlotte’s excitement breaks a little of the awkward tension. As she steps into a changing stall, she holds up a sexy purple number and wriggles her eyebrows. “We’ll make all the girls in school hate us together.”
. . . . .
Three stores later, we’re still looking for the dress for me. Charlotte found a slinky blue dress with a slit that she said her father would probably kill her for, but it looked so good clinging to all her curves that she couldn’t resist. She is going to look fabulous.
Julia found a dress earlier, too, and wanted to go look for shoes, so we split up. Mom went with her, and we were all going to meet in another half an hour for lunch. If I don’t find anything by then, I’ll take that as a sign that I shouldn’t go to the dance, and I’ll give up my search.
“I found it!” Spencer hollers from across the store. He’s ridiculous. I never knew him to be such a shopper, but today he is a man on a mission.
I glance at the wall he’s pointing to, and my eyes double in size. “Are you serious?”
“What?” Charlotte asked.
I cringe. I really need to stop talking to Spencer in front of people, or I’m going to be locked up in a loony bin. And does he have to find it so funny every time it happens?
Charlotte follows my gaze and gasps. “Yes! It’s perfect!”
“But it’s so…short.”
Charlotte grins. “Gown-length dresses are criminal for someone with your legs.”
“And tight,” I continue. “I can’t wear something like that.”
“Oh, yes, you can.” Charlotte snatches a dress in my size and pushes me to the fitting rooms. “Girl, we have been at this for hours and found nothing because this dress was waiting for you to come and find it. Trust me. This is the one.”
I’m not going to win, so I take the dress and step into the changing room. I eye the strapless satin dress dubiously for a minute and then notice the tag. No wonder it looks a little short. “Hey, Charlotte, I’m a size 6, and you handed me a 4.”
“I know,” she calls back. “Put it on right now.”
I don’t have to see her face to know she’s smiling.
Afraid to look, I turn my back to the mirror as I slip into the dress. I have to suck in a little as I zip it up. It’s snug, but not too small, and that actually makes me feel a little better about it because it isn’t going to slip while I wear it.
“Hurry up, Bailey! I’m dying out here!”
I hold my breath as I step out of the stall. Spencer’s mouth falls open, and, for once, he has nothing to say. Charlotte makes a choking sound, as if she’s trying not to squeal.
I take a breath and smooth out the front of the dress. “I haven’t looked yet. Is it too much?”
Spencer, who hasn’t even blinked, shakes his head while Charlotte turns me around to face the mirror. I let out a small gasp. “Oh, wow.”
“You’ve got that right.” Charlotte steps up next to me and smiles in the mirror. “Didn’t I tell you that was the one?”
“It’s the one,” I agree.
“It’s definitely the one,” Spencer says. His voice is strained. When I look at him, his eyes sweep over me and he wets his lips. “Bay…you are…breathtaking.”
The way he can’t stop staring makes me wish more than anything that I could touch him. I would give anything to be able to feel his arms around me one last time. To kiss him once more. My eyes mist over, and I have to shut them.
“Bailey?” Charlotte asks. “Are you okay?”
“I’ve never worn red before because it clashed with Spencer’s hair and didn’t do much for his pale skin. I know I’m weird, coordinating my outfits with my boyfriend’s looks, but I always wanted us to look good together. I hated that people teased us about me being too hot for him.”
Spencer’s smile becomes pained. “I never minded, Bailey. It only made you even more special to me because you were too hot for me, but you loved me anyway.”
“I still love you, Spence.” I swallow back a lump in my throat and take a breath before meeting Charlotte’s gaze. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get so emotional on you, it’s just, Spencer died the night of the homecoming game last year, and we didn’t get to go to the dance. I’m not sure if I can do it.”
Charlotte smiles and squeezes my hand in hers. “That’s exactly why you need to do it. To prove to yourself that you can. I didn’t know him, but I’m sure he would want you to go.”
Spencer gives me two enthusiastic thumbs up, and I snort. “I’m sure he does.”
Spencer laughs. “You bet I do. And I want you to go wearing that dress.”
How can I say no? “What do you think?” I ask Charlotte. “Silver shoes?”
Charlotte beams at me and squeals the tiniest bit as she wraps her arms around me in a tight hug. “You won’t regret this. I promise.”
After we find some amazing shoes to go with the dress, we talk accessories as we head to the café where we’re meeting Mom and Julia. Charlotte hugs her shopping bag with a sigh. “It’s a bit of a shame we’re going to be the hottest girls at the dance and the only ones without dates.”
I feel bad that she’s giving up a date for me. “You still have time,” I tell her. “I’m sure there are a thousand guys who would love to go with you.”
She shrugs. “I was thinking more about you. That dress… It may not have worked with Spencer, but you know who would look really great standing next to you in that dress? That guy from school the other day. The one who freaked everybody out when he showed up.”
My stomach lurches. “Wes?”
Spencer snickers. I resist the urge to glare at him for it.
“He’s gorgeous,” Charlotte says.
When I don’t reply, Charlotte nudges me lightly with her shoulder. “Would I be a terrible friend if I ask what your history is with him? You obviously have one.”
“You haven’t heard the story yet?”
I can’t help the bitterness in my tone, but Charlotte isn’t upset by it. She links her arm in mine. “Rumors. But I’d rather get the real story from you. If you’ll trust me with it.”
Part of me really wants to tell her. Nobody knows the entire story except for Wes and me. I need to get it off my chest, but, as much as I like Charlotte, I’m not ready to admit the truth yet. I can give her most of it, though. “Wes was Spencer’s best friend since they were in diapers. When I moved into the house behind Spencer’s, they adopted me as one of them. The three of us were inseparable until I asked Spencer to be my boyfriend. Wes got mad at me for changing everything between the three of us and for stealing his best friend. Spencer always made as much time for Wes as he did for me, but it didn’t matter. Things were never the same between us after that. Then, when Spencer died, Wes’s dislike turned to hatred. I think he dropped out of school after the funeral because he couldn’t stand to be around me.”
Charlotte shakes her head with vehemence. “No, that can’t be right. When you bolted the other day, he ran after you. He paced outside the bathroom waiting for you. If you hadn’t come out when you did, I think he would have gone in after you. He looked worried about you.”
If only that were the truth. “He wanted to talk to me. We hadn’t spoken since Spencer’s funeral, and we never discussed what really happened that night. I’m sure he
has things he wants to get off his chest. He blames me for Spencer’s death.”
Charlotte is quiet for a moment before she says, “Do you blame yourself for his death?”
I suck in a breath and nod. “It was my fault.”
“But didn’t he die in a car accident? I heard he was driving drunk. How could that be your fault?”
My stomach drops, and I look at the ground. “There was a reason Spencer got drunk, and there was a reason he drove home alone that night. I was the reason for both.”
Charlotte pulls me to a halt, disrupting the flow of New York City pedestrians enough that several people grumble curses at us. Charlotte replies with a few choice words of her own and then drags me against the building we’re passing, out of the way of other people. “That’s unfair,” she says. “You can’t blame yourself for Spencer’s choices. And I think you’re misinterpreting the situation with Wes. You didn’t see the look on his face when he held you in his arms the other day. Whatever his issues are, that guy cares about you.”
My heart flutters in my chest. I want it to be true. I want Wes to care for me like I still care for him. But I don’t see how that’s possible.
“Maybe you should talk to him.”
I shake my head, trying to ward off my hope as much as answer her question. “I tried to the other day. I offered him a ride home after our internship, and he said no because being around me was too difficult. He told me he couldn’t be my friend.”
Charlotte frowned, refusing to believe me. “That doesn’t make any sense. There has to be something else going on. You should talk to him again. Try to smooth things over.” She startles, as if coming up with a bright idea. “Ask him to come to the dance with you.” She grins and adds, “If you show him your dress, he won’t say no.”
“Charlotte, he’s not going to go to the dance with me. He wouldn’t even accept a five-minute ride home. And besides, going stag was your idea. I can’t ditch you.”
“I’d let you, if it was for him. He is that hot.”
I smile despite my foul mood and roll my eyes as I pull Charlotte back into the flowing mass of New Yorkers. “If you like him so much, maybe you should ask him to the dance.”
“Oh no. I like him for you. He’s not my type.”
I snort. “Wes is everyone’s type.”
Charlotte cuts me an accusatory sideways glance. “Even yours?”
Yes. Even mine. Though I’ll never admit that to anyone. I look forward, praying my cheeks aren’t blushing. “Can we please stop talking about Wes? We’re almost to the café, and I really don’t want my mom to start asking questions about him.”
Charlotte gives me a knowing smile that annoys me to no end and pretends to zip her lips. “No more boy talk. For now. I promise.”
Dress shopping with Charlotte had been easier and more fun than I’d expected, but I’m still not sure I can survive Jake’s party. The last party I went to was the one that claimed Spencer’s life. It was even at Jake’s house.
I’m on thin ice with my friends, and my mom is relentless, but the thing that finally makes me get in the car is the smile on my sister’s face when she comes downstairs, ready to go. I know how desperate she is to go to this party. I want to lecture her about how being popular isn’t everything, but I can’t because she’s been so nice to me all day. She’s been acting like she used to before the accident—like she looks up to me. I can’t let her down.
I take the long way to Jake’s house, avoiding the street where Spencer died, but it doesn’t help. As soon as I pull up in front of the house, see all the people milling about, and hear the music blasting, it’s as if I’m back in that night, like no time has passed at all.
My hands shake as I turn off the ignition and stare up at the house. I’m wound so tightly that I let out a startled yelp when Julia breaks the silence. “It’s going to be fine, Bailey,” she promises tentatively. “You’ll see. As soon as you go in there, your friends will help you relax.”
She’s wrong. Trisha and Liz are in there waiting to push me into Chase’s ready arms. When I don’t say anything, she tries again to make me feel better. “You came dress shopping and hung out with Charlotte and that was nice, wasn’t it? You had fun today, right?”
“That was different,” I whisper. “The last time I was here was…”
In a show of sisterly affection I haven’t seen from Julia in nearly a year, she reaches out and takes my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You can do this. Don’t give up now. Please? At least give it a chance.” I meet her pleading gaze, and she gives me a small smile. “I’ll stay with you until you feel better, if you want.”
She’s been waiting to go to this party for weeks. I know she doesn’t want to spend it babysitting me, but she sounds sincere. I can’t do that to her even though that offer is tempting.
“I’m here, too, Bay,” Spencer whispers from the backseat. “I’ll stay with you the whole night.”
I hadn’t seen Spencer since I left the house. I wasn’t sure he’d come, seeing as how this was where he spent the last night of his life. I nearly cry when I hear his voice. I glance in the rearview mirror, and his answering smile gives me the courage I need. I shake my head at my sister. “You go have fun. You don’t have to babysit me. I’ll be okay.”
“You sure? It’s not a problem, Bailey. You’re my sister. If you need me, I’ll stay with you.” I’m touched by her loyalty. I didn’t think she cared about me this much.
I swallow back a lump of emotion, not wanting to ruin whatever this moment is. It’s been so long since we’ve acted like a family. “That was my polite way of saying I don’t want my dorky little sister hanging around cramping my style all night.”
I smirk to let her know I’m only teasing, and her eyes gloss over as she smiles back. She throws her arms around me, laughing. “Thank you for coming tonight. I know you’re only doing it for me, but it’ll be good for you, too, I promise. And I’ll stay close, just in case.”
We get out of the car, and as we head to the door, I decide to focus my anxiety on my sister instead of the party inside. “No alcohol, no smoking, no drugs. Don’t drink anything anyone hands you unless you open it yourself. Don’t wander off with any strange guys—or familiar guys, for that matter. Actually, no guys, period. This is an upperclassman party, and you’re only a freshman. Some of the guys might try to take advantage of that. Maybe you should just stay with me tonight. In fact, I shouldn’t have brought you. Maybe we should leave.”
Julia grabs my hand when I turn back toward the car. I expect to see annoyance, but she’s smiling at me. “I’ll behave myself, Bailey. I’m really only hoping to talk to Colin. He and his friends are sophomores.”
“He’s still a guy. And one related to Jake, no less.”
“I’ll stay in sight.”
I grab her hand and let her pull me through the front door. We’re fashionably late, as Julia had planned. The party is already in full swing, but a lot of the commotion stops as we enter. People are startled to see me. They whisper and stare, but they’re all quick to smile. They’re surprised but happy I’m here. I suppose that’s a good thing, but the knots in my stomach don’t disappear.
A group of my friends from orchestra wave me over. I’m a little surprised to see them here because they aren’t exactly popular, but from the looks of it, the entire junior class is here. “Go,” Julia whispers. She points to the other side of the room. “Colin and his friends are right over there. I’m going to go say hi.”
She gives me a shove toward my friends and wanders off. I join my friends, relieved at least that Chase hasn’t spotted me yet.
“Hey, Bailey!” Amelia and Henry both greet me as I join them. Amelia plays the flute and Henry is a cellist. Henry has been crushing on Amelia for years, but she’s too oblivious to notice, and he’s too shy to say anything.
“You got here too late,” Amelia says, pulling me close to talk over the blaring music. “You just missed the drama. Trisha is wearing this
outfit that is, like, skank-central, and Max couldn’t stop staring at her chest, so Priscilla finally dumped him.”
I smile and am surprised to feel disappointed that I missed it. Max is a percussionist and a total weasel, while Priscilla is the biggest sweetheart I know. I’ve wished Priscilla would break up with him for a long time. “Good for her. She can do better.”
Both Henry and Amelia nod. “Oh, totally,” Amelia says. “I was just trying to convince Henry he should ask her out. Don’t you think they’d make a cute couple?”
I shouldn’t interfere, but I can’t ignore the look of longing in Henry’s eyes. He’s my friend, and I want to help him out, so I smile at Amelia and say, “Not as cute as you and Henry would be.”
Amelia and Henry both freeze, gaping at me in shock. I laugh at them as I scoot them a little closer to each other. “Why don’t you guys go dance? Maybe you could discuss homecoming. You don’t have a date yet, right, Amelia?”
Amelia looks a little sick, but I can tell by the blush in her cheeks as she stares at the floor that she’s not opposed to the idea. “Well—I—um, no…”
Henry is still staring at me, frozen in fear. I give him a meaningful look, nudging my head toward Amelia. The gesture snaps him out of it, and he clears his throat. “I don’t have a date yet, either. Would you like to go to homecoming with me, Amelia?”
Amelia’s head snaps up, and she stares at Henry with wide eyes. It makes Henry nervous. His gaze falls to his shoes, and he kicks the carpet, shrugging. “I mean, if you want to. You don’t have to, of course.”
Henry won’t look up. His face is bright red. Amelia looks to me for help, so I give her a big smile and nod toward Henry as if to say, What are you waiting for?
“I—um…” She looks at Henry again and gathers her courage. “I’d love to go with you, Henry.”
Henry meets her gaze, his face so full of hope that even Amelia realizes he has feelings for her. Her eyes grow wide, and she glances at me in shock. I laugh, placing her hand in his. They both blush, but neither of them lets go of the other. “My work here is done,” I tease. “You guys go dance.”
