Bailey:

Fuck you.

That was all the message said.

I held the phone in a shaky palm. Fuck you. I had apologized, but the words still blared up at me.

Maybe, after everything I had said or done, apologizing wasn't enough. Maybe nothing would ever be enough. And really, I didn't blame them. I still remember the fight, slamming doors and falling tears. No matter what I did, I would never live my mistakes down in their eyes.

They had good reasoning.

Tears rising profusely, I started typing a message to the person who needed to hear what I had to say the most.

Patrick:

Andy, Pete, Joe, and I all stood outside the house I knew to be Bailey's. Not in a creepy way, either. I had come multiple times in the time that I had started to get to know her.

Weeks, I realized, I had known her for three weeks. It really didn't feel like that long. A few days, at most.

I guess time really did fly when you were having fun.

I nodded at Pete, who took his door opening kit up to the front door. He fiddled around for a bit and then turned to me. "It's locked."

"Try it again," I suggested.

Pete did, unconvinced. When he was done, I walked up to the door and turned the handle. It was unlocked. I rolled my eyes at Pete because he hadn't tried the door and opened it.

We all cringed when the door emitted a loud squeak and listened for minute. Pete started handing around noisemakers with a sly grin. Andy and Joe took theirs with matching expressions. Andy was the first to hear movement and pointed directly above our heads.

We all climber the stairs, cringing again when Pete knocked down a photograph hanging on the stairway. I picked it up, noticing a crack down the middle. It did nothing to obscure the picture, though. It showed two girls, an older one who looked like younger Bailey and a brown haired one who might've been her sister. They both had matching gap-toothed grins, eyes shining with a long forgotten secret.

I shoved the picture into my jacket pocket, glad that it was small. We kept moving until we found a closed door with a light shining under it. Praying that it wasn't a bathroom, I counted under my breath. "One, two-"

I stopped. Inside I heard gentle sobbing. My chest twisted and I caught Andy's eye. He nudged his head downstairs and Joe started to follow him. Pete, however, stayed right next to me until I gave him a gentle push.

Shooting me a look, Pete followed our friends quietly downstairs, leaving me alone.

I pushed open the door slowly and saw Bailey sitting on her bed, short blond hair a mess. Her shoulders shook, but no more noise came from her. I sat down silently beside her and ran my hands through her hair, waiting for her to calm down.

"I-I'm sorry." she finally managed to calm down to say.

"For what?" I asked, her hair feathering across my fingers.

"I'm a mess. I don't want you to see me like this."

I was taken aback, "Bailey, if something is bothering you, I want to know. You don't have to hide your emotions. Believe me," I added quietly, "you don't want to."

"What do you mean?" She asked quietly.

"Before I met the guys, I was really self-conscious. I never felt like I could actually amount to anything. I was fat, bullied, but my biggest bully was myself. I never told anyone, of course, and this killed me inside."

"Patrick." She touched my arm gently, turning so that I could see tears in her deep green eyes. "I always listened to your music. Never once did I think you ugly or fat, your music was what I cared about. Nothing but your music."

"Nothing?" I asked with a grin.

"Well..." She laughed, burying her head in my shoulder, "I may or may not have had a poster with your face on it."

"I knew it!" He yelled, flexing in a model pose, "you can't resist these guns."

Bailey looked down and flushed. "Thanks, Patrick. You really did make me feel better."

"Might want to hold your tongue on that," I admitted, reaching into my pocket, "Pete kind of broke this."

She took a long look at the photograph. For a moment I thought she would cry again, but then she took a deep breath and threw it against the wall with a force that made me jump.

Bailey sat back down shakily and I pulled her against me. After a moment, she looked up at me, so close that I could have just reached over and kissed her, but I quickly shooed the thought away. You aren't dating, I chided myself, she could have a boyfriend. Besides, she's upset. She doesn't like you that way.

As if sensing my thoughts, Bailey gave me a soft kiss on the cheek. "Thank you," she repeated. "For everything."