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She stomped up the stairs and slammed her bedroom door before curling into herself, holding a hand to her mouth to muffle the sound of the sobs that ricocheted out of her.

Chapter Twelve

Rory headed for the computer lab after school that Wednesday, clutching a brand-new sketchbook and her own set of colored pencils while harboring a stomachache that wouldn’t subside. She knew it was a combination of nerves and crying herself to sleep the night before. She felt ridiculous assuming that the holidays could somehow be protected, that despite the lonely days Rory spent throughout the rest of the year, she could at least look forward to subpar rotisserie chicken and mac and cheese on the couch. The thought of doing those things by herself didn’t sound appealing, so she vowed before falling asleep that she would give the yearbook her all.

Her mind drifted to Jay as she took a seat, waiting for the meeting to start. Her logical side knew she had to ask him if they were officially dating. Was that something people did? Or were they simply a couple now? The only other boyfriend she’d had was Nick Vasquez during freshman year. It lasted a couple of months, up until he sat her down and told her he preferred guys instead. She was upset, but not exactly heartbroken, and ultimately felt proud that Nick was honest and open with her. She was friendly with him when he passed her in the halls, always with Phillip in tow, Nick’s steady boyfriend of almost two years.

Tyler never liked Nick, which made a bit more sense to Rory after the revelations that came out over the summer. One thing was for sure—jealousy was not a good look on her friend. The way he’d laughed in disbelief when she admitted that she wasn’t officially dating Jay. How exasperated he sounded…

She pushed away thoughts of Tyler and the movie theater as the rest of the yearbook staff filed into the lab, taking their seats and drawing their attention to where Penelope stood writing down dates on the whiteboard. They were deadlines, all the little dates for which parts of the yearbook needed to be done before finally submitting for print on May 18.

Penelope capped the dry-erase marker with a smile. “I think these dates speak for themselves, editors. We have a lot of work to do over the next six months to make the best yearbook Haverport High has ever seen.”

“Wait a minute,” said a gangly-looking sophomore guy at the computer next to Rory. “You have Christmas Eve for our first design deadline. That’s technically a holiday.”

“Not for everyone in this room,” Penelope said firmly. “I meant it when I said this was going to be a hefty commitment, and that means sacrificing some of your time to get the job done. If that scares you,” she said, holding up a finger, “the door is that way.”

Rory chuckled to herself. Even if Penelope wasn’t the most liked person, she couldn’t deny it—she’d make a great leader one day. Inclusivity and a balls-to-the-wall approach? She was bound to set this world on fire.

Penelope smiled. “Something funny, lead designer?”

She just kept smiling, lifting up her water bottle in a cheers. “Not at all, editor-in-chief, carry on.”

Vanessa was sitting in a chair next to Penelope with a big grin on her face.

She winked back, taking a sip from her bottle. The entire layout needed to be drafted by Christmas Eve. Looked like Rory had holiday plans after all.

* * *

Penelope wasn’t joking. The yearbook was a time- and energy-sucker.

The first week was a lot of back-and-forth with Vanessa as they settled on their style guide. Rory didn’t think choosing colors and fonts would be such a big deal to her, but as she and Vanessa started collaborating on their official “look,” she was shocked by how many opinions she had about it. The colors mattered. The typefaces mattered. After a week of debating and a lot of forced Jedi/Zen breathing from Vanessa when Rory started panicking about how much they weren’t doing, they finally landed on a plan they both felt proud of.

The coffee table back at home was covered in colorful sketches. Rory sat on the couch clutching her hair as she gazed at all the different designs.

“Do I have to remind you again?” Vanessa asked, walking over with two mugs.

Rory threw her arms out wide. “How are we ever going to decide which one to go with? There are so many to choose from.”

“But only one perfect one,” Vanessa replied, plopping down next to Rory and setting the mugs on a side table.

It was Thanksgiving, and Gabi was already gone. She’d lain in bed that morning, planning on wasting the day away watching movies on her laptop, until the doorbell rang just thirty minutes after Gabi left. She shuffled downstairs to find Vanessa at the door, holding two slices of Grampy’s blueberry coffee cake.

“How in the world—”

“My uncle works at the bakery,” Vanessa started before letting her finish. “Grampy gave us a cake to enjoy today.”

Grampy’s blueberry coffee cake was coveted in their town. During the summer season, the lines got so long that it sold out daily before nine a.m. It was a terribly kept secret that Grampy set slices aside for the true townies, who all knew that three knocks on his back door would earn you an incognito exchange of brown paper bags. Unless, of course, you were Vanessa’s family.

Their exchange this morning was so comical, she was half-inspired to draw a comic out of it.

“Vanessa, it’s Thanksgiving. Why are you here?” she’d said when she opened the door.

“Because you said you were going to be alone,” Vanessa answered brightly, stepping into the house. “Plus, my little cousins won’t stop with the pillow fights, and the constant screaming and noises in the kitchen made my anxious dog pee all over my bedroom rug and…yeah, this introvert is about to explode.”

Rory turned on the coffee maker. “You’re an introvert?”

“Why else do you think I hole up playing video games after yearbook meetings?”