The Rest of the Story by Sarah Dessen EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: Sarah Dessen
- Language: English
- Formats: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Available For Free Download
- Series: None
- Price: Free
- File Size: 2 MB
The wedding was over. But the party had just begun.
“It’s just so romantic,” my best friend Bridget said, picking up the little
glass jar of candy from her place setting and staring at it dreamily. “Like a
fairy tale.”
“You think everything is like a fairy tale,” my other best friend Ryan told
her, wincing as she reached down yet again to rub her sore feet. None of us
were used to dressing up very much, especially in heels. “All those days of
playing Princess when we were kids ruined you.”
“I seem to remember someone who had a Belle fixation,” Bridget said,
putting the candy down with a clank. She tucked her short, choppy dark bob
behind her ears. “Back before you decided that being cynical and depressed
was much cooler.”
“I was the one who liked Belle,” I reminded her. We all had our roles:
they were always bickering about our shared history, while I was the one who
remembered all the details. It had been like this since we’d met on the
playground in second grade. “Ryan was all about Jasmine.”
“She’s right,” Ryan said. “And I’ll remind you again that I’m not cynical
or depressed, I’m realistic. We can’t all see the world as rainbows and
unicorns.”
“I don’t even like rainbows and unicorns,” Bridget muttered. “They’re so
overdone.”
“The truth is,” Ryan continued, “even with cute candy favors, the divorce
rate in this country is over fifty percent.”
“Oh, my God. Ryan!” Bridget looked horrified. Ryan was right about one
thing: she was the biggest optimist I knew. “That is a horrible thing to say at
Emma’s dad’s wedding.”
“Seriously,” I added. “Way to jinx my future. Was my past not bleak
enough for you?”
Ryan looked at me, worried. “Oh, crap. Sorry.”
“I’m kidding,” I told her.
“And I hate your humor,” she replied. “Have I mentioned that lately?”
She had not. But she didn’t need to. Everyone seemed to have a problem
with what I found funny. “Despite the statistics,” I said, “I really do feel Dad
and Tracy will make it.”
“She’ll always be Dr. Feldman to me,” she said, glancing over to the cake
table, where the couple in question were now posing for the photographer,
their hands arranged together over a knife. “I still can’t talk to her without
feeling like I need to open wide.”
“Ha,” I said, although as the kid of a dentist, I’d heard all those jokes,
multiple times. What’s your dad’s favorite day of the week? TOOTHDAY!
What do you call your dad’s advice? His FLOSSOPHY! Add in the fact that
my dad’s name was Dr. Payne, and hilarity was always ensuing.
“No, I’m serious,” Ryan said. “Even just now, when they came by to say
hello, I was worried she’d notice I hadn’t been flossing.”
“I think she’s got bigger things on her mind today,” I said, watching as
my new stepmother laughed, brushing some frosting off my dad’s face with
one hand. She looked relaxed, which was a relief after over a year of
watching her juggle the details of flowers and her dress and the reception
along with her own bustling practice. Even at her most stressed, though,
she’d maintained the cheerful demeanor that was her signature. If my mom
had been dark and tragic, Tracy was sweetness and light. And, yes, maybe
flossing. But she made my dad happy, which was all that really counted to
me.
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