The day dragged on. When Bailey first posted Meg’s little underwear problem, it felt right and just. It felt like payback. At first, she thought it was funny how the whole school lined up to attack Meg — pelting her with underwear and pads. But it got old fast.
Maybe she'd gone too far. Maybe that's why she hadn't heard anything from Ryder. Maybe she should apologize to Meg. She sent Meg a text, but there was no reply. She was probably painting. Meg often ignored the phone when she was caught up in a subject. Bailey would try again later.
Bailey went down stairs when Gran called her for dinner. When the dishes were cleared away, Gran handed her the plastic containers of leftovers and that made her think of Meg and thinking of Meg made her feel guilty so she went upstairs to find something else to occupy her time.
She tried Xbox but WyldRyd11 wasn’t logged on. She tried Facebook and saw no status updates from Ryder or Meg. But her little wet pants story had gotten a lot of air time. Likes by people she didn’t even know, comments by the screen-full — and some of them were ridiculously funny except for the one from Chase who told them both to leave him out of their dumb fights from now on. She shrugged and then checked her email. Still nothing from Ryder but she did find one from the classmates site.
They’d located her mother’s yearbook.
Her mom still wasn’t talking to her. She’d gone over it in her mind a dozen times. Should she forget the whole idea or keep going? And a dozen times, she’d arrived at different decisions. Now that her mother’s yearbook was a click away, Bailey knew she had to keep going. She had to find him.
Bailey logged in, clicked the link and flipped through the scanned pages. Nicole at seventeen looked a lot like Bailey at seventeen. They both had the same curly hair and similar body shapes but Nicole’s face looked older. Wiser. Tired. With a start, Bailey reminded herself most of these pictures were taken when she’d been just a few months old.
It must have been so hard to go back to school after she had a baby.
Bailey scrolled through page after page. Her mom was in a lot of pictures, but never with any guys. So who was her father? Where was he?
“What’s that?”
Bailey leaped and spun at the sound of Gran’s voice behind her. “Oh my God, you scared me half to death.”
Gran didn’t smile. “What are you looking at?”
Crap. “Mom’s yearbook. It’s online now.” Bailey figured Gran already saw the screen so there was no point in lying.
“I see that. Any particular reason why?”
Double crap. “I wanted to see who my dad is.”
Gran came in, shut the door behind her and sat on Bailey’s bed. “Sweetie, there are some things way better off left unasked, unseen, unfound — this is one of them.”
Bailey considered that for about three seconds and decided it was too bad. “For mom. Not for me. I need to know.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Why?” She exploded with it — the years of secrecy and evasion. “Why can’t I know who my own father is? Was he some evil rapist or something?”
Gran’s mouth fell open and she pressed a hand to cover it. “No! Why would you even say such a thing?”
“Why wouldn’t I with the way everyone pretends I was hatched instead of conceived?”
“He wasn’t a rapist. He broke your mother’s heart. Can you not understand how painful it is for her, seeing you every day, a living breathing reminder of that?”
Gran’s words were like the crack of a palm on a bare cheek and she flinched. She sank to the bed beside her grandmother. “I guess so,” she murmured. “But I still don’t think it’s fair. I’m not Mom! Why am I the one getting punished? He has rights, too. Maybe he wanted me! Did she even tell him about me?”
“Yes, Bailey. She did.”
“And?”
“Do you see him here?”
Slowly, Bailey shook her head. “No. No, I don’t believe you. He’s my dad. He would have loved me if he knew about me.”
“Bailey, honey, listen to me. I know you’re hurting. But so is your mom. It’s been seventeen years and it still hurts her. Let your mom heal.”
Long after she left the room, Bailey sat in the same spot, wondering if anyone cared that she needed to heal, too. She turned back to her computer and logged into her blog page.
Girls love secrets. I think it's hard-coded into our DNA or something. We collect secrets, save secrets, even use them when it suits our needs. But we don't reveal them. That's against the BFF Code.
Girls have a code just like guys. Doesn't the guy code say never to hook up with your girlfriend's best friend? Well, girl code says never reveal your best friend's secret. Ever. Just don't, okay?
Secrets can be weapons and armor at the same time. They can be strengths and weaknesses at the same time. It all depends on who knows them. When it's your best friend, your secrets are protected. They're part of what holds you together. That's why there's no bigger pain than when a best friend spills one of your secrets. It's like she's chipping away at the foundation of your friendship and you wonder when the whole thing might collapse.
Bailey twirled a lock of hair and read her notes so far. It was almost ironic that she was upset with Meg for sharing a secret and just as pissed at her mother for keeping one.
Secrets aren't just for BFFs. Families keep secrets, too. Is it worse for a relative to keep a secret from you or for your best friend to blurt one of yours? I don't know yet but I know both totally suck. I wish I didn't have any secrets. Then I wouldn't be this sad.
Meg told Ryder one of her secrets. Bailey wondered how long before their friendship crumbled.
No.
No, she wasn't going to let that happen.