Rory lay in bed the next morning, staring at the sunlight streaming through the cracks in the curtains. She still hadn’t fallen asleep. Every time she closed her eyes she saw Evan’s face, felt his hands on her body, heard his voice. They’d spent the entire afternoon on his couch. It was mostly a blur, but there were plenty of moments that she remembered and could relive, over and over. They didn’t do everything—not even close—but that had been just as she’d wanted it. And Evan was a true gentleman. At every point he asked her if she was okay, if it was too much, if she wanted to pull back. Rory felt completely herself around him, even when she took off some of her clothes, which was a relief. She’d never quite lost a feeling of self-consciousness around Connor. She wasn’t sure if it was his perfect body or his perfect persona, but she always needed the room to be dark and for blankets to be close by. She’d always thought that her discomfort was a result of being a late bloomer, but after being with Evan she knew now that this wasn’t true. She felt safe, and in familiar hands. At one point she even pulled off his shirt, making him say, “Whoa. I feel like a piece of meat. I’m diggin’ it.”
She started giggling, until he interrupted her with a kiss.
The rain outside sounded a gentle staccato on the roof and windows, making her feel like they were the last two people on earth. Don’t let this end, she thought over and over. I don’t want this to ever end.
But it finally did. At some point, while he was getting some soda, she looked at the cable box under the tube TV and saw the time. It was six o’clock.
“I gotta go,” she said, throwing her clothes back on.
“What time is it?” he asked, walking back to the couch.
“Six. I should get back for dinner.”
“Yeah, Jeff should be home pretty soon. It’s probably a good call.”
She got dressed, used the miniscule bathroom in the back of the house, and found Evan in the living room, ready to walk her out. “It’s still pouring,” he said, gesturing to the rain coming down in sheets outside. “Let me give you an umbrella. If we have one. Which we probably don’t.”
“That’s okay. I’ll just book it to my car.” Drowsy and relaxed from the hours with Evan on the couch, she nestled herself into his arms.
He held her close, then kissed her deeply. “I’ll miss you tonight.”
“I’ll miss you.”
“When can I see you again?”
“I don’t know,” Rory said. She was in no hurry to think about what waited for her at home—guilt, worry, and shame. Having to tell Isabel. For right now she just wanted to bask in this moment. “Text me. We’ll figure something out.”
“Okay.” He kissed her one more time. “It’s crazy. I can’t even let you go.”
“You’re gonna have to,” she said.
He finally pulled away. “There, I did it,” he said. “Now I’m really unhappy.”
She laughed. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” she said, and headed out into the rain.
Now she sat up and forced herself to think about the other reason she’d been up most of the night. Isabel. And what on earth she was going to do about that.
As she walked to the shower, she knew that she really had only one choice: to tell Isabel everything, and to tell her as soon as possible.
Just as soon as she figured out how to tell her.
Isabel knocked on her mother’s bathroom door. “Do you have any Kiehl’s left? I’m all out.”
Mrs. Rule opened the door in her bathrobe. Her hair was wet and lay in straggly curls over her shoulders. “Take whatever you’d like,” she said, as she began to comb her hair in the mirror. “How are you?”
“You’ll be happy to know that I quit my job,” Isabel said. “I’m no longer shaming the family.”
“Was there any reason?” her mother asked, pulling the comb through a knot.
“Not really. I guess one of my coworkers and I had a difference of opinion.” Isabel grabbed the bottle of butter-colored moisturizer and was about to head out the door when she stopped. “I went over to Dad’s the other day. He wanted to see me.”
Mrs. Rule put down the comb. “Is that so?”
“Yeah. His house is totally modern. You’d hate it.”
“I’m sure,” her mother said.
“Anyway, he apologized to me. For being so weird all those years. Said that he didn’t mean to take it out on me.”
Mrs. Rule sat down on her cushioned vanity stool and put her hands in her lap. “That’s nice to hear,” she said stiffly.
“And he said that he’d like to stop pretending, too. It sounds like it’s just as painful to him to live this lie as it is to all of us.”
“Before you give me a lecture on ethics, Isabel,” her mother said, “I’ll have you know that the secret is out. Thanks to you and Kelly Quinlan. I saw her at the club. When she asked me if it was true—if we were getting separated—I said yes. So it’s done. It’s out. I hope you’re happy.” Her mother shook her wet hair back behind her shoulders and fixed her daughter with a warlike glare. “So, you see, it’s all done. I’ve given in. Everyone’s going to hear about it. If they haven’t already.”
“She already knew. She’d heard a rumor that Dad was living there, and I confirmed it.”
“The point is, you can stop feeling victimized now, Isabel,” her mother said. “Everything’s out in the open. Everyone’s going to know that we’re getting a divorce. I’ll have to cancel at least ten engagements that we had planned. And in about three days I’m going to be the subject of more Schadenfreude than you’ve ever seen in your life.” She reached for a bottle of eye cream on the counter.
“Well, not everything’s out,” Isabel said. “You still have to tell the family about Mr. Knox.”
“I’ve been through enough for one week, don’t you think?”
Isabel was quiet for a moment. “Right,” she said. “Because this is all about you.”
“I’m still your mother. I still deserve some respect. Even though I know you don’t think so.” She stood up and brushed past Isabel out of the bathroom, then barricaded herself behind the doors of her walk-in closet.
Isabel looked at herself in the mirror. She was only eighteen, but she felt a decade older. She walked up to the closet doors. “Mom?”
There was no response.
“You’re not in there taking a bunch of Celexa, are you?”
There was still no response.
“I know I’ve been hard on you. I don’t mean to be. I think what you did at the club sounds really brave.”
There was still no response. She palmed the door and then stepped away. “I know we’ll get through this,” she said.
Whatever her mother was doing in there, she seemed to want Isabel to go away. For the first time in a long, long while, Isabel left wishing she’d said she was sorry.
On Monday morning, Rory arrived a few minutes late to find a Post-it stuck on her computer monitor.
RORY, PLEASE SEE ME IN MY OFFICE. NINA
Rory dropped her bag on the chair. Something about this didn’t seem good. “Amelia?” she called out.
Rory peeked over the partition. Amelia’s chair was empty.
“Well, better get this over with,” she muttered, and turned to head toward Nina’s office.
Nina gestured her inside through the glass.
“Good morning,” Rory said. “You wanted to see me?”
“Good morning,” she said flatly, sipping from a takeout cup of coffee. “I hope you had a good weekend.”
“I did. Did you?”
“It was fine.” She crossed her legs and flicked a piece of dust off the desk. “I received a voice mail from Lucy Rule. Saying how sorry she was, but she and her husband won’t be able to attend the gala after all. That other plans came up.” She folded her arms and gave Rory a dark look.
“Oh,” Rory said. “I really don’t know anything about it.”
“You don’t?” Nina said. “I thought you were living there.”
“I am, but they don’t let me in on their social calendar.”
“The fund-raising committee is very disappointed, to say the least. And I am, too. We were all very happy about this. And you gave us the impression that this was something they were interested in.”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” she said, trying not to sound nervous. “I guess they can’t make it.”
“Well, in light of this, we’ve had to shuffle some things around a bit,” Nina said. “Amelia’s short will no longer be in the festival. I just let her know.”
“But why?” Rory asked. “What did she do?”
“Nothing,” Nina said blithely. “That’s how things go sometimes. People change their minds.”
“I understand,” Rory said, smiling as tightly as possible.
“So that’s all,” Nina said. “I just wanted you to be aware. And when you have a moment, could you get me a fresh one of these?” she said, holding up her coffee cup.
“Sure,” Rory said, biting her lip.
“Great. You can close the door on the way out.”
Rory walked back to her desk, feeling sick. Hopefully Amelia wouldn’t be crushed, though she probably would be.
Amelia was back at her desk, writing an e-mail, when Rory returned. “Hey,” she said.
“Yeah?” Amelia said without turning around.
“I just spoke to Nina,” Rory said. “She told me the news. I’m so sorry.”
Amelia swiveled around. “Yeah. If I’d known everything hinged on your boyfriend’s parents, I wouldn’t have done it.”
“I didn’t think it hinged on them,” Rory said, feeling her face start to get red.
“Right. Of course you didn’t,” Amelia shot back. “I didn’t need you to do me any favors, you know. I was fine on my own.” She turned back around to her computer. “Now I have to write my family and tell them I’ve been kicked out of the festival. For logistical reasons, or some such BS.”
“This has nothing to do with either of us,” Rory said. “They’re the ones who are being totally shallow and petty.”
“They’ve been kissing your ass this whole summer,” Amelia said. “You should have seen this coming.”
“That’s not fair,” Rory said. “This isn’t my fault, okay?” She threw herself into her chair and turned on her computer.
A few minutes later, Amelia wheeled herself in sight. “Sorry,” she said, her face contrite. “It’s my third pointless internship. I was hoping this one might be different. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.” She pushed her glasses up her nose. “You want to get lunch later? Plot everyone’s undoing?”
“I need to run out and get coffee for Nina.”
“Screw that,” Amelia said. “She can get it herself.”
“I really am sorry about your family.”
“That’s okay. I suppose I should have seen what was going on. I guess I wanted to believe that they really thought I was talented.”
“You are talented, okay? This has nothing to do with you.”
Amelia held up her hand for a high five. “You need anything, you call me, okay? High five.”
“High five,” Rory said, trying to smile as she slapped her hand.
When Rory drove home that afternoon, she spotted Connor’s Audi parked in the drive. Her heart lifted unexpectedly—she didn’t realize how much she’d missed him. Or how anxious she’d been that he not still be mad at her.
She found Connor in the kitchen, eating some leftover salad and watching the tennis channel. “Hi,” she said. “How are you?” It had been just over a week since the last time she’d seen him, and now she couldn’t help but feel happy to talk to him again.
“Oh, hey,” he said vaguely. “Good to see you.”
“How’s it going?” she asked, pouring herself a glass of water. “Is everything good at your dad’s house?”
“Yup,” he said, his eyes on the TV screen. It was obvious that he was still mad at her. “I stopped by to grab some more clothes.”
She sat down across from him. “Are you okay?” she said.
“I’m fine,” he said blankly. His gaze stayed riveted on the flat screen.
“Connor, don’t ignore me.”
“I’m not,” he said. “I’m just watching this.”
Rory pulled her purse off her shoulder and dropped it on a chair. “I hope we can still be friends.”
“Sure,” he said in a noncommittal voice.
“Connor, I’m sorry. I thought it was something you should know.”
“That’s fine,” he said. “And now that I know, I’m sure you feel better, right?”
She stood up and grabbed her purse. “Forget it. I’ll talk to you later.” She pushed through the swinging door. Connor didn’t chase or call after her. She needed to see Isabel. Isabel would help her deal with this.
She ran up the stairs to Isabel’s room and banged on the door.
“Come in!” Isabel yelled.
Rory opened the door. “Connor’s here,” she said. “And he won’t talk to me.”
Isabel sat on her bed wearing her bikini and a loose cotton tunic. “So?” she said. “He’s a guy holding a grudge. He’ll get over it.”
“I have had the worst day,” Rory said, collapsing into a chair. “Your parents aren’t coming to the opening night of the festival, and my boss freaked. And to punish me for it, they screwed the other intern out of showing her film at the festival. Because I recommended it.”
“That doesn’t sound like your fault at all,” Isabel said.
“Maybe not, but I still have a guilt hangover. Not fun.”
“They never are.”
“Can I use your bathroom? I literally just walked in from work.”
“Sure.”
Rory flung her bag on the floor, not noticing that the contents spilled out of it onto the carpet.
Isabel opened her laptop. Once again, she began reading the e-mail from Mr. Knox. The one that she’d been waiting for all summer.
Dear Isabel,
I’m sorry that it’s taken me this long to get back to you. Production on this film has taken me to three different cities and two different continents since I saw you last. I hope things are going better by now. Just hang in there. And remember to have fun! Only one more month of summer.
Peter
So there it was, she thought. Not exactly the big bonding e-mail she’d been hoping for. Maybe she should take her dad up on his offer of dinner. It couldn’t hurt.…
Suddenly there was the tinny sound of a few bars of the Beatles. “Nowhere Man.” It was Rory’s ringtone. Then the chime of a text came through. Isabel stood up and found Rory’s phone on the floor, near her bag. The name on the screen made her freeze in her tracks.
EVAN
Slowly, her eyes drifted down to the message below.
Hey, when can I see you again? I miss you. E.
Isabel’s eyes glazed over as she read the words. They stopped having meaning, they stopped being words, but still she read them, over and over. Evan. Rory. They’d seen each other. Rory was the person he had feelings for.
Rory was the reason he’d broken up with her.
Rory.
Rory.
A wave of nausea overtook her and began to creep up her throat.
Behind her, the bathroom door opened, but Isabel barely heard it.
“Isabel?” Rory asked. “What’s wrong?”
The sight of Rory standing there with an innocent look on her face made Isabel’s head spin. “Are you hooking up with Evan?” she asked.
Rory seemed about object, until she looked down and saw the cell phone in Isabel’s hand.
“Are you?” Isabel pressed.
“Y-yes,” Rory stammered. “But I can explain—”
Isabel tossed the phone on the bed. “When were you going to tell me this? Or were you not going to tell me at all?”
Rory didn’t move, except for her lips, which made small, ineffectual attempts at an answer. “I was going to tell you,” she finally said. “I promise I was.”
“When? Are you the reason he dumped me?”
“No… and we didn’t hook up while you guys were together,” Rory said.
“What?”
“Yes, there were sparks between us, but I told him not to break up with you. I swear to God, I did.”
“Oh my god,” Isabel said, turning away from her.
“And from what you said, the other day, it didn’t even sound like you were that upset—”
“So that makes it okay for you to go hook up with him behind my back the minute we’re not together?” Isabel asked. “I can’t believe I trusted you. I can’t believe I invited you into my home again. All you do is keep things from me. Like last year, hooking up with my brother and hiding it from me. I thought that was bad. Now you go after my boyfriend the second we’re not together. What is this? Are you obsessed with me or something?”
“Isabel,” Rory said, trying to stay calm. “It all just happened. I’m so sorry. We’ve only hung out once. That’s it. Nothing has even begun—”
“Honestly? You’re worse than Thayer and Darwin,” Isabel said. “At least I always knew where I stood with them. You? You’re worse. You pretend to be my friend. Only to then sabotage my first relationship in a year.”
“I didn’t sabotage it, I swear to God,” Rory said. “You have to believe me. I didn’t. I told him not to break up with you. I did.”
“Don’t take pity on me,” Isabel said. “I want you out of this house. I’ve had it. I want you to go.”
Rory looked stricken, as if she might burst into tears. “Now?” Rory asked.
“Yeah, now.”
“It just happened. And you told me yourself, you weren’t in love with the guy. That you still have feelings for Mike—”
“Don’t even go there. It’s not going to help your case. Not at all.” Isabel walked to the door. “I feel really sorry for you. I’m not the only one who pushes people away.”
She ran out of her room and down the stairs. She needed to get out of this house. She couldn’t think, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t even see straight anymore because of the angry tears filling her eyes.
Fool me once, shame on you, she thought. Fool me twice, shame on me.