Rory woke up on the morning of Mrs. Rule’s party to the sound of enormous trucks screeching to a stop in front of the house. These had to be the tables and chairs. She lay there, too tired to get up, listening to the men begin to unload their cargo with curses and jokes. Mrs. Rule intended to throw the party of the summer, and there would be many more trucks and lots more cursing before the day was over. Beside her Connor slept peacefully on his side, facing away from her, oblivious to the noise. She reached out and lightly touched his shoulder. “Connor,” she whispered.
He didn’t move.
She leaned over and kissed his shoulder. He moved just a little and groaned slightly, turning around to face her. Then he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her to his chest. “Hmm, hmmm,” he murmured, pressing her close, so close that it was hard for her to breathe.
Ever since the kiss with Evan on the beach, she’d made a point of spending the night in Connor’s room. She’d made a point of spending other quality time with him as well—dinners, walks on the beach, playing tennis, riding their bikes to the movie theater on Main Street. She also made sure to avoid the subject of his parents. With a little bit of effort—her effort, really—they’d become a couple again. She felt proud of herself for her dedication, as if she’d received an A on a term paper she’d worked on for months. But there were still things that were out of her control. His tendency to hang out with people she couldn’t stand was one of them.
The night before, Augusta had come bowling with them. It had been Connor’s idea. Augusta was as silly and annoying as ever, prattling on constantly about the time they’d locked some friend of theirs out of one of the St. Paul’s dorms, or something else equally stupid. How can he stand these people? she wondered. What does he see in them? A few minutes of hanging out with Augusta, and Rory was back to thinking about Evan.
Did he still like her? Did he think about her? Did he feel guilty about the kiss, or would he do it again if he had the chance? Sometimes the not knowing made her want to scream. She’d find herself staring at the few texts they’d sent each other before their lunch date, dissecting them, trying to read any hidden meaning in the words. Finally she’d tell herself to stop, because it didn’t matter anyway—he was Isabel’s boyfriend, unavailable, not even a possibility, for so many reasons. And she already felt terrible about the kiss. It had turned her into something she’d never thought she’d become in a million years: a cheater. She’d never done that to anybody, and even now it seemed so out of character, so unlike her, so against everything she stood for, that most of the time she couldn’t believe she’d done it at all. When Isabel came back from seeing him, Rory would hold her breath, half expecting that she’d found out about the kiss, until it was clear that he hadn’t said anything. And each time she knew he’d stayed quiet, she wondered how he felt. It was torture.
She glanced at her watch and disentangled herself from Connor’s grasp.
“Hey,” she whispered. “I gotta go.”
Connor blinked his eyes open. “ ’Kay,” he said, releasing her easily.
“I’ll see you at breakfast,” she said.
Connor kept his eyes closed, happy to fall back asleep. As she tiptoed out of the room, opening the door as slowly as possible and checking to make sure that Mrs. Rule’s door was shut, she felt a slight weariness. Connor never spent the night in her room. He didn’t take her out. If they went somewhere alone, it was her idea. Yes, they were on good terms again, but it seemed as if she was doing all the work. And as much as she didn’t want to admit that, it was becoming harder and harder to ignore.
Isabel opened her eyes and realized with a start that she was still at Evan’s. She didn’t recognize it in daylight. White morning light streamed in through the spaces between the venetian blinds, making the green felt–upholstered chairs look even more depressing. On her cheek she could feel a dried thread of drool, along with the imprint of Jeff’s uncle’s scratchy, basket-weave pillow. Her head ached. Besides being worried about having completely broken her curfew, she felt a general distaste at having fallen asleep in her clothes.
Beside her Evan lay fully clothed, his mouth slightly open, a content look on his face. The tube TV on its stand flickered silently with static.
“Hey,” she said, touching him on the shoulder. “Wake up.”
Evan shifted groggily and opened one eye like a cat. “What time is it?” he asked.
She grabbed her watch. “It’s around eight. I really need to go.”
Evan yawned lazily and stretched. “Not yet,” he said with a smile.
“No, now,” she said, getting up.
Evan propped himself up on his elbows and looked around the room. “Damn, that movie must have been boring.”
“I think I was just tired.” She started dashing around the room, collecting her phone, bracelets, keys, and lipstick, which she’d left in various corners.
“Sorry that this is sort of my bedroom for now,” he said. “I know it’s kind of lame.”
“That’s okay,” she said.
“I can talk to Jeff about working something out. There’s gotta be something of mine that he wants.”
“Really, it’s not a big deal,” she lied. More than once last night, Jeff had stomped out of his bedroom, walked past them on the way to the kitchen, grabbed a beer from the refrigerator six feet away, and then passed them again. Usually when they were in the middle of kissing.
“I thought you said he’d be out,” Isabel had whispered at one point.
“I know, but he doesn’t go anywhere without me,” Evan had said. “Yo, dude!” he yelled down the hall. “Stay in your room!”
Eventually they gave up on trying to kiss and just watched a movie instead. As she snacked from a bowl filled with Veggie Pirate’s Booty and drank a random sports drink she’d found in Evan’s fridge, Isabel’s thoughts turned to Mike. The sting of his snub at the restaurant had worn off, and she was back to fantasizing. She wondered what he was doing now, who he was with, if he still thought about her, and what would have happened if she’d kissed him at the Ripcurl that first night. She’d closed her eyes, thinking about him—those golden arms, that thick dark hair, those intense, searching, slightly wounded eyes, staring hard at her mouth.
Now she stumbled through the room, still groggy, trying not to bump her shin against the low coffee table. Thankfully she didn’t have work today and could go home and take a nap.
“So what time’s your mom’s party tonight?” Evan asked, standing up.
“Oh, probably around seven.”
“Do I need to put on a tie?”
“You have a tie?”
“Of course.” Evan looked a little hurt at the implication that he didn’t.
“You don’t have to wear a tie, but a button-down would be good. A nice one. My mom is into clothes. Like, freakishly so.” She walked up to him and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. “Morning breath,” she explained.
“Right,” said Evan.
Isabel thought he looked a little let down, but she never liked to kiss anyone before brushing her teeth. “See you tonight.”
“See you,” he said.
Rory was toasting a bagel in the kitchen when Isabel walked in.
“I need to find something for this stupid party tonight,” Isabel said, sipping from a takeout cup of coffee. “Want to come with me to town?”
“I thought you weren’t going to the party,” Rory said.
“I’m going for an hour,” Isabel said. “Evan’s coming. Then we’ll probably take off and go somewhere.”
“Evan’s coming?” Rory asked, taking out her bagel. This was interesting.
“Yeah. I figured I’d bite the bullet and invite him.”
Rory thought quickly—she’d been planning on wearing jeans and a nice top. But now that Evan was coming, something a bit dressier might be better. “I’ll go with you,” she said.
Twenty minutes later, they were in Scoop NYC, rifling through the racks.
“I spent the night with Evan last night,” Isabel announced.
“You did?”
“But only in the technical sense,” Isabel said. “I fell asleep there by accident. Luckily my mom was too busy with the florists to even notice me coming in this morning.”
“So was it fun?” Rory asked.
“Sort of,” Isabel said. “But the guy doesn’t even have his own bedroom. He’s crashing in the living room right now. On a futon. His roommate came out, like, four times to get stuff from the kitchen while we were making out. It was kind of a bummer.”
Rory didn’t want to think too hard about Isabel and Evan making out. “I’m sure Evan was embarrassed by that.”
“Maybe, but I mean, come on. You know, Mike wasn’t the best boyfriend in the world, I’ll give you that. But at least he had his own room,” Isabel said, taking three dresses to the fitting rooms.
Rory wondered why Isabel was bringing up Mike but decided to let it go. While Isabel was in the fitting room, a text came through on Rory’s phone. It was from Connor.
Turned out to be a half day for me. Where r u? Wanna get a bite?
Sure, she wrote back. With Isabel now. We’re at Scoop.
Meet you in 15, Connor texted back.
Rory looked longingly at a cute electric-blue silk halter dress with purple beading along the bodice, hanging on a mannequin. It was four hundred dollars. Evan would think it was pretty; there was no doubt in her mind.
“Ugh, none of these work,” Isabel said, emerging from the fitting room with an armful of dresses. She handed the salesgirl the balled-up dresses and then stopped in front of the mannequin. “What about that one?” she said, pointing to the blue-and-purple-beaded dress.
“It’s cute,” Rory concurred.
“Lemme try it,” she said.
The salesgirl removed it from the mannequin and gave it to Isabel.
A few minutes later, Rory watched as Isabel bought the electric-blue dress. Rory had told her it looked beautiful on her, but as Isabel casually handed her credit card to the salesgirl, Rory felt a pang. Things came so easily to her sometimes. It wasn’t fair.
“Connor wants to meet us for lunch,” Rory said as they walked out of the store into the hot afternoon.
“Okay,” Isabel said.
Groups of tourists walking four abreast roamed the sidewalks, eating ice cream and window-shopping. Almost every store had a small American flag hanging above the window. Connor appeared from around the corner.
“There he is,” Isabel said, pointing.
“Hey!” Rory called out. “This place is a zoo. Look at all these people.”
“I rode my bike,” Connor said. “It was my only hope.”
“Where should we eat?” Isabel asked. “I’m starving.”
“Mom asked me to go to Citarella and pick up a few things,” Connor said.
“That’s fine,” said Rory. “We can grab sandwiches there.”
They crossed Main Street and walked over to Citarella, where a stream of people continuously entered and exited its doors. Inside, the store was more packed than Rory had ever seen it. The line to pay snaked around the perimeter, and all the aisles were thick with shoppers.
They were on their way over to the sandwich counter when a petite, fortyish woman with a sleek brown bob and meticulously plucked eyebrows came over to them. She tapped Isabel excitedly on the shoulder. “Isabel!” she exclaimed. “Connor! Hello, you two!” The woman gave Isabel a hug. “How are you? We haven’t seen you in ages!”
“Hi, Mrs. Quinlan,” Isabel said politely. She turned to Rory. “This is Thayer’s mom,” she explained.
“Your mom tells me that you got some kind of job?” she asked, looking at both Connor and Isabel for confirmation of this.
“You know Isabel,” Connor cut in. “She really likes to keep busy.”
Fortunately Mrs. Quinlan seemed too scattered to catch Connor’s evasion. “Isn’t this place packed today?” she asked, looking around. “I came in to get some pancetta, and I don’t think I’m going to get out for hours. Thayer’s here,” she said, craning her head to find her daughter in the crowd. “Well, she was just here. Oh, there she is. Thayer!” she called. “Look who’s here!”
Rory turned to see Thayer coming toward them. She wore a belted linen dress with a horseshoe pattern and her usual expression of blasé ennui above it all.
“Hey,” she said coolly.
Isabel tossed some blond hair over her shoulder and stiffened. “Hey,” she replied.
“You need to come over one of these days,” Mrs. Quinlan said to Isabel, oblivious to the coolness between the two girls. “We have a whole new kitchen now.”
“Sure,” Isabel said.
“Unless you’re too busy working,” Thayer said with an audible smugness. “Aren’t you waiting tables? Or is that just a rumor?”
“No, it’s not a rumor,” Isabel said bravely.
“I heard you got into UPenn,” Connor broke in, trying to change the subject.
“Yeah?” Thayer said.
“Some buddies of mine from St. Paul’s go there. Let me know if you want their e-mails.”
“Thanks,” she said. “And is everything all right with your dad?”
“My dad?” Connor asked. “What do you mean?”
“Honey, don’t bother them with that now,” Mrs. Quinlan said in her raspy voice, looking embarrassed. “We should really get in line.”
“I’m just asking. You were the one who told me about it,” she said to her mom.
Mrs. Quinlan smiled. “I finally got my real estate license,” she explained. “And the place on Gibson Lane in Sagaponack that was empty for years? Well, I heard there was a new tenant.”
“Your dad,” Thayer said, with obvious relish. “What’s he doing there?”
Everyone was silent. Rory looked from Connor to Isabel, wondering who was going to take up the challenge.
“He and my mom are separated,” Isabel said flatly. “And they’re probably getting a divorce. Like, any minute. Anything else you want to know?”
Thayer smiled as if she’d expected this answer all along. Mrs. Quinlan looked anxious. “We really need to get back home, honey. Your father’s probably starving.” She put her hand on Isabel’s shoulder again. “It was so good to run into you, sweetie. Really. Come by anytime. We’d love it.”
Rory looked over at Connor. His eyes looked like they were boring holes into his sister’s face, and his lips were pursed and thin, almost drained of color.
“Okay,” Thayer said, with the barest smirk. “It was great seeing you, Connor. And sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”
“Rory,” she said.
“Right, Rory,” Thayer said. “See ya.”
Mother and daughter walked away toward the back of the line, leaving the three of them alone near the smoked-fish display. Connor immediately walked off toward the doors, leaving both Rory and Isabel in his wake.
“Where’s he going?” Isabel asked.
Rory shook her head. “No clue.”
They followed him out of the store and found him speed walking down the street, wading through a crowd of families, strollers, and dogs.
“Connor, calm down,” Isabel said.
He wheeled around. “Are you crazy?” he asked. “What is wrong with you? Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s the truth,” Isabel said. “It’s not like people aren’t going to find out.”
“But why would you hand it to them like that on a silver platter? Why not send an e-mail around the town with the whole story? Don’t you know how fast that’s going to get around? Right before the party tonight?”
“Connor, calm down,” Rory said.
“They obviously knew something was up,” Isabel said. “Why do you have this obsession with defending Mom and Dad?”
“Because I care about this family.”
“Connor, let it go. Drop the perfect-son routine. You’re not going to get any points.” She lowered her voice. “And you know that Mom had an affair. Don’t you?”
Connor’s eyes flashed. “What the hell does that have to do with anything?”
“It has everything to do with everything,” Isabel said. “They screwed up, and now they’re too chickenshit to come out to the world and admit all their mistakes. So they’re trying to recruit all of us to bail them out. It’s sick.”
“You would believe the worst about them,” Connor said, turning away.
“I don’t have to believe it.” Isabel’s voice turned flinty. “I have proof.”
“You have proof?” he asked, disgust lacing his voice. “Like what?”
Isabel darted her eyes at Rory.
Connor turned toward Rory. “Do you know something about this?”
“No,” Rory said, looking down. “I don’t know anything.”
“Then why did she look at you like that?”
“Isabel’s just trying to be honest,” Rory said. “She’s not trying to cause trouble or be crazy or any of that other stuff you think.”
“What do you mean, be honest?” he said. “What do you know?”
“N-nothing,” she said.
“Stop being so immature,” Isabel said. “She didn’t do anything.”
“She’s my girlfriend. She’s supposed to be on my side,” Connor said. He turned back to Rory. “I don’t get it. What is it you know about all this?”
“She knows nothing, okay?” Isabel cut in. “But even if I were to tell you, you wouldn’t be able to hear it. You’re in too much denial.”
“Right, I’m in denial,” Connor said. “You want to know why you can’t hang on to any of your friends? Because you alienate everyone in your life. You push people away. And you don’t even see it.”
Rory’s stomach ached, and her head felt light. “Connor, don’t be mad. Come on.”
“No, I think I need to be alone for a little bit,” he said, stepping away from her outstretched hand. “I’ll see you later.” He crossed Main Street just as the light was about to turn, and headed down Newtown Lane. Then he slipped into an alley toward the parking lot and was gone.
“Well, that was interesting,” Isabel said.
“Why did you say that to Thayer, in front of him? You must have known that he was going to freak out.”
“Connor needs to face reality. And if you’re not going to make him do that, then it may as well be me.”
“Not everyone needs to be improved, Isabel. Sometimes people are getting by the best way they can.”
“Oh, come off it, Ror,” Isabel said. “I know you’re not happy. It’s so obvious. But you’re just like him. Always wanting to put on this perfect display.”
“Maybe I’m just trying to make things work.”
“No, maybe you’re a doormat,” Isabel said.
“A doormat?” Rory asked.
“Yeah. I don’t know what happened to you. Last summer you were so kick-ass. You did your own thing. I looked up to you. You didn’t care about changing who you were for a guy. Now you have a boyfriend, and it’s like you’ve become a robot.”
“Lay off me, okay?” Rory snapped. “I’m sick of watching you act like a spoiled brat. Yeah, okay, you’ve been dealt a rough hand. So have I. And you don’t see me taking it out on the entire world.”
Rory watched as Isabel set her face in the same disgusted, haughty, and totally over-it stare that she’d given Rory the first day they met. “Fine,” she spat. “I’m out of here.”
She crossed the street with her head held high, swinging her shopping bag like she didn’t have a care in the world. She was so much like her mother, Rory realized. Both of them always needing to have the last word. Both of them so lonely, but always pushing people away.