Chapter 7

The next day after school,Rory got a call from a number she didn't recognize.

She flung her backpack onto the kitchen counter and answered. "Um, hello?"

"Rory, hi! It's Vanessa."

"Oh, hi! How did you get my number?"

"You filled out a form yesterday, remember?"

"Right," she said, her chest feeling tight. "Listen, Vanessa…I'm not sure—"

"Don't back out on me," Vanessa interrupted her. "You're about to say you're not qualified for the position, but it's not true. You're exactly what I've been looking for."

Rory's face flushed, thankful this conversation wasn't in person. No one had ever said something like that to her before. You're exactly what I've been looking for. "R-really?"

"Oh, totally," Vanessa said. "You have raw talent, and we're about to have the best-looking yearbook in decades."

"I think you're putting a little too much confidence in me," she mumbled.

"After what I saw yesterday, I don't think so."

"But I have no idea how to use any of those design programs," she said, feeling panicked, her chest tightening even more. "How am I supposed to do this?"

"Okay, first, breathe."

Rory was silent. What?

"Take a big breath in—"

She wasn't sure why, but she obeyed.

"—and now out."

She exhaled, and shockingly enough, felt noticeably lighter.

"This is actually why I'm calling you," she explained calmly. Her voice was like something out of a Zen meditation recording. Rory listened, finding that despite her lacking certain skills, she trusted Vanessa and her calming presence. "Have you signed up for next semester's classes?"

"Uh, no," Rory said.

"Okay, cool, so I think you should sign up for Graphic Design I," Vanessa answered. "They'll teach you the basics there."

"But that's next semester." That panicky feeling was back. "What am I going to do until then? Sit around and let everyone glare at me because I'm their lead designer who doesn't even know how to make a graphic?"

"Rory." Vanessa snapped her out of her spiral with just one word, and she took another deep breath unprompted.

"Good," Vanessa continued. She was the Jedi Master, and Rory was her Padawan. "Thinking through the designs and the art does not require computers. Not yet, at least. These next few months, I want you to design everything on paper. We'll work through the spreads, and then our team can start executing. That's why we have them."

She exhaled, feeling a bit more at ease.

"Bring a blank sketchbook if you have one, and maybe invest in your own set of colored pencils," Vanessa continued "I'm…protective."

Rory chuckled. "Yeah, I kind of picked up on that. Thanks for trusting me with them."

"I could see the inspiration sparkling in your eyes, and I just had to see what you were up to. And prove Penelope wrong."

"Oh?" she said with a smile. "Having a hard time with our editor-in-chief already?"

Vanessa groaned. "Always. But I told her that if we really wanted our yearbook to stand out, we had to do something different. Your design was so out-of-the-box that even she liked it. That means something."

Rory grinned, not sure how to respond. She always found herself doodling, but she never actually considered doing something with her art. Like designing an entire yearbook from scratch.

"And you just said ‘our' editor-in-chief," Vanessa continued. "So I'm guessing this means you're still in?"

Rory nodded. "Fine, yeah, okay, I'll do it."

"Perfection," Vanessa said, a cheer in her voice. "Okay, I have, like, two hours to squeeze in some World of Warcraft before my parents get home, so I gotta go. See you Monday?"

"Yeah, Monday."

Rory hung up, sliding her phone into her back pocket. She wasn't sure why she was feeling so overwhelmed about it all, but after taking another one of her Jedi/Zen deep breaths, she reminded herself that this was what she wanted. An activity to keep her occupied and out of the house. To keep her mind off of being away from Scoops and slowly watching Tyler slip out of her grasp. It had been four days since she saw Tyler and Zoe together in the hallway, and she had yet to hear anything from him. He claimed to be there for her, but already he seemed preoccupied with his new girlfriend.

Pushing the image of them out of her mind, she snatched a soda out of the fridge and cracked it open, taking a big gulp as she refocused on the task at hand. When she made the design for the yearbook, she told Penelope and Vanessa that it was meant to feel like a time capsule. Like jumping back into that period of your life and feeling like you never left. She wondered if her mother ever felt that way about her high school years.

Rory set the soda down and bounded up the stairs. Once she was on the second-floor landing, she tugged on the little string hanging off the ceiling and pulled the ladder down. She coughed from the dust in the air as she climbed up to the attic, taking a seat on the edge as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. She squinted at the boxes that'd been tossed up there. Nothing was labeled or organized, just cardboard boxes with lids to store stuff that rarely saw the light of day.

She sighed, wondering if it was even worth looking. Gabi kept everything about her life before having Rory so hush-hush, especially when it came to anything related to her father. Always telling her that it wasn't worth dredging up the pain from the past, and that they should look toward their bright futures instead.

Wasn't the whole point of a yearbook to look back at your past, though? To see how far you'd come? How much you'd grown?

She stood up, wiping her sweaty hands on her jeans before flipping open lids to boxes. She knew the ones closest to the ladder would be the most recent, like Christmas decorations or Rory's old toys. So she started in the middle and worked her way back, hoping to find something that looked like it came from her mother's high school years.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but when she resurfaced, the sun had almost set, the burnt orange color streaming through the stained-glass window at the other end of the attic. Rory wiped a bead of sweat from her brow as she stepped to the very back, eyeing a box standing alone. She smirked and snatched it up, setting it on a stack of boxes in front of her and carefully lifting the lid so as not to disturb the dust, just in case Gabi came up here and poked her nose around.

Sure enough, out spilled a heap of her mother's old relics. She picked up a few picture frames, recognizing a much younger version of her grandparents in one shot with Gabi, who couldn't have been older than seven. Rory sighed, missing her grandparents deeply. They lived down in Orlando, and Rory only got to see them once a year on Christmas. The reminder had her heart bursting, knowing that it was just over a month away. She placed the frame down and kept digging, past old toys and jewelry boxes, and finally came across a yearbook.

Oak Creek High

Class of 2005

She lifted the book and slowly peeled open the cover. The inside flap was completely covered in signatures and notes from Gabi's old friends. Rory's eyes widened at how many there were, wondering how her mother could have been so popular and yet never talk to or see them anymore. What happened?

She flipped through the pages, analyzing the designs of each spread, which didn't have much pizazz. They were simple and classic, nothing showy or flashy, not what Rory was hoping to find. But as she turned the pages, she became hungry for more images of her mother, who was everywhere. She groaned when she reached the cheerleading page, her mother front and center with a big grin, listed as that year's captain. A few pages down, she found another one of her singing on stage wearing a Pink Ladies jacket, her blonde hair curled and piled up at the top of her head, red lipstick gleaming underneath the stage lights. When she finally hit the senior page and the superlatives, an envelope tumbled out. Rory sucked in a breath as she picked it up and read the front.

She recognized Gabi's handwriting, her curly scroll addressed to some location in Orlando. The return address was for their first apartment in downtown Haverport, where they lived for five years before Gabi was finally able to afford a down payment for their current house.

Stamped in red ink across the front was a return request, letting the sender know the letter had bounced back. And the date on the stamp? May 8, 2006.

Three days after Rory's birth date.

She blinked once, twice, three times, feeling like someone had punched her in the gut. She dropped the envelope and noticed how it landed on a black jersey stuffed at the bottom of the box.

Rory pulled it out and smoothed out the wrinkles. It was a football jersey, with the number one in white on the back and the name BARRY stitched elegantly at the top.

Rory glanced back down at the yearbook, the superlative Most Likely To Live Happily Ever After floating above a large picture.

It was Gabi in her cheerleading uniform, held tightly in the arms of a football player wearing the very same jersey Rory held now. He was sweaty, his dark mahogany hair wet and sticking to his forehead, and he was smiling down at Gabi. Looking at the woman in his arms with familiar seafoam green eyes like she was the most precious thing in the world.

She read the caption below.

Gabriella Michaels Fred Barry

She sucked in a breath as she looked back at the letter.

It was addressed to Fred Barry.

Rory dropped what she was holding, her hands trembling. She just found her father.

* * *

After stuffingeverything back into the box and shoving it in the corner it came from, Rory carefully climbed down the ladder and closed up the attic. Her hands were still shaking as she grabbed her things in the kitchen and headed for her room. Gabi was probably already at Wilson's starting her shift, but just in case, she locked her door. Asking Gabi the truth was too risky, and she didn't have the courage quite yet to take that risk. She would see what she could learn about Fred Barry on her own first.

She plopped down at her desk and opened her laptop, then searched his name. It was generic enough that thousands of results came up, so Rory tried Fred Barry Orlando and then Fred Barry Oak Creek High.

The results weren't that exciting—just some football stats and a newspaper clipping about him making the All-State team in Florida. But she couldn't find any pictures or links or social media profiles. The guy didn't even have a LinkedIn.

She clicked her laptop shut and cupped her face in her hands. Of course finding him wouldn't be that easy. She would have to try looking for more information about him in other ways.

But…did she even want to look for him? Her mind drifted to thoughts of her imaginary father, the one who was attentive and loving and always home and there for her. Yet her real father clearly didn't want anything to do with her, and Gabi sure as hell hadn't shared anything meaningful about him. But what if they were both wrong? What if as soon as Fred Barry saw her, saw how they shared the same thick mahogany hair and seafoam green eyes, he felt he was wrong all along and wanted to actually get to know his daughter?

It was a stretch—she knew that. But maybe…just maybe.

A movement at the window across from hers had her looking up from her hands. Tyler was home and shuffling around in his room, wearing a sky-blue polo and a pair of jeans. He was laughing at whoever was talking to him as he moved around, then stepped aside to make room for a beautiful tall blonde to enter.

Rory's head pounded as she watched Zoe walk timidly around his room, her mouth curled into a genuine smile.

She didn't realize she was staring until Tyler locked eyes with her. She wasn't sure what to do. Wave? Flip him the bird? Cry and pound on her window and plead for him to come over?

All she wanted to do was talk to him about Fred Barry. She couldn't bother Melanie right now—not when she was currently in her worst grief phase yet. She hadn't seen her friend all week.

No, she needed Tyler. Needed to get his thoughts. He had always been the one she turned to when she thought about her father. Maybe he could help her find Fred Barry. Or…maybe he would tell her something wise about not going down that road, about how it would most likely break her heart.

But she didn't have a chance to make any kind of gesture at him. Tyler broke their gaze first as he walked up to his window and closed the curtains, shutting Rory out from his world.