Chapterish 33
BACK BAY RETREAT
Back Bay is different tonight. Sure, it's still hazy and lazy, but not from the stagnant summer heat. Mainly from the pot smoke. Among other extra-curriculars.
Really the tension is heightened –palpable. Everyone loves a good wedding. Everyone loves an endearing bride and chillaxed groom. What more could you want being in a wedding party?
Still, Back Bay is different tonight. It's filled with couples. Actual couples. It's the same group from the mountain weekend mostly. Plus a few extras. Some cousins and extended family on both Trix and Travis's side.
Really, I'm not entirely sure what the night is for, considering the Poconos weekend was the pre-wedding party. This is the post-pre-wedding party? So what's that make the sun-soaked Caribbean week we're about to hit?
Everyone takes their normal spots, falling into the years' old routine again like usual. Trix and Trav stretch out on the tiny loveseat in the back patio. Meg and Nate are causal and cool, never about the PDA.
I realize Brooks and I are somewhere in the middle of the other two couples. Suppose lately we've been giving Trix and Travis a run for their money. I smile thinking this.
Brooks sits on the floor in front of my spot on the couch. His head tilts back against the spot between my knees. I catch flashes of his perfectly pearly teeth. Swoon city.
I'm happy to have him there. Makes me want to keep him there, preferably without clothes on. More on that later.
The night burns like a slow candle. Sure, there's drinking and casual drug use (I mean, pot is like legal now), but it's all so adult. Compared to the beach bonfires and Sandbar nights from the summer, we are positively old and dead now.
Tonight we drink for something to do.
I'm so used to holding a red plastic cup at Back Bay that I almost think it'd feel weird sitting on the deck without one. I think my hand would fall off my arm.
Trix babbles on about the couples walking down the aisles together. Basically, it's all the real couples anyway. Well, we're mixed up a bit.
"Emmy don't forget you're with Nate," Trix says for the 1000th time. Sticking out her tongue at Meg, "Sorry boo, you're stuck with him."
"I resent that." Brooks laughs.
"I'm happy to trade," Meg jokes. She wrinkles her nose at Nate.
"Least we'll be the best looking couple," Nate says, eyes locking on mine. "Behind the bride and groom."
Trix smirks.
I roll my eyes and slink off my spot on the couch (OK, fine my spot on Brooks's lap).
I navigate through the crowd, avoiding the counter top laden with appetizers, and walk on to the deck. It's empty –one of the many reasons I find it inviting.
I flip my hair over my shoulder and reach for the keg.
What is wrong with me?
My best friend since childhood –two of them, really –are getting married. FINALLY. And I'm part of it –a huge part of it. We all are. Everything is as it should be. Everything is so –normal.
And that feels abnormal.
I shake the thought. Not tonight, Em.
"Hey, you," Alex says, standing next to me.
He reaches out and pumps the keg to fill his cup.
"And you," I nod.
"Needed some fresh wedding-free air?" He jokes.
"Course... not," I smirk. I sip from my cup, mainly to stop from frowning. I shake my eyes at myself. "Hey, I heard the news. Congrats."
"Great, right?" Alex beams. I see the corners of his lips turn up, hesitation nonexistent. I can't help but smile back.
Still pissed I can't admit any of my own good news.
"Sure is."
I drain my cup, holding the empty out to Alex so he refills it once he's done filling his own.
"Cheers," Alex says, clinking his plastic cup against mine and slopping beer down the sides.
"To another annoyingly happy couple."
My voice sounds harsh, I know. I try laughing –as if this will help mask my animosity –as if the laughter can somehow quell the jealous monster inside me.
Definitely can't.
I curse myself under my breath, but Alex has the decency to look amused. He's always good with keeping the tension light. Part of the reason I chose him last year. You know, after Tenfire.
Fuck, I'm a pretty trash person.
Alex leans against the deck railing beside the keg, looking into the canal behind the house. I stretch my arms out as well, careful to avoid any contact. The tall grass blows and a gust of air carries the sea toward us.
"Can you keep a secret?" Alex asks, head sideways.
"Sure." I gulp.
"Think we'll have another wedding to plan. Hope we will anyway," Alex says, grinning from ear to ear like some euphoric, non-serial killing Joker.
"No!" I gasp, smacking his arm.
"Guilty," Alex laughs.
Wow. So Mr. Zero Fucks Given is actually giving a fuck. I shake my head sideways in disbelief. Alex's eyes crinkle with laughter.
"Look at you, Alex."
"Finally found some courage, I know." Alex nods, eyes rolling. He digs his hands into his pocket and pulls out a single ring. Not plastic. "What do you think?"
"You're just carrying it around?" I ask, incredulous.
"Sure am, never know." Alex laughs.
"It's perfect."
I divert my eyes back to my plastic cup, to the dark misshapen canal, to anything really. Anything to not imagine the gorgeous oval ring on Whit's gorgeous, perfectly manicured finger.
Fuck me.
My white plastic ribbon is more than enough. Brooks is more than enough.
"Are you asking tonight?" I find my voice. Alex eyes me sideways. "Cause I'm not sure Trix would forgive you."
"No way," Alex says defensively. "Not 'til after their wedding."
"Why are you telling me?" I blurt out.
Why shouldn't he? We are friends.
"You looked all pensive out here. Wanted to disrupt it." Alex laughs.
"Thanks for that," I laugh.
He places his cup on the railing and tucks the ring back into his jean pocket. "Plus, had to tell someone. Been dying for days."
"I'm the only one who knows?" My eyes double in surprise.
"To the grave, girl." Alex wags his finger at me.
"Damn, why do you do this to me?" I curse him.
"I have faith in you," Alex jokes, scrunching up his nose at me.
That makes one of us.
I follow Alex inside, reeling with jealousy the entire time. I take my spot besides Brooks and wonder if he notices my new shade of green.
"Yea and they lost their RSVP card!" Trix clicks her tongue.
"Bastards," Meg curses.
I tune out their conversation. Really, Meg should be maid of honor anyway. Instead I try and wonder why I'm jealous. I search my head and my heart –my soul –for why I care that Alex is proposing to Whit –for why it felt like an unbearable pang of pain when I heard it.
Haven't Brooks and I proven time and time again we are meant to be? Aren't we arguably the best-suited couple on this shabby couch right now? Everyone else can get married for real, but we'll be the last ones standing, right?
Could I be anymore emotional? Prob not.
"And I have my make-up trial next week," Trix tells Meg.
"Me too," Travis smirks.
Brooks laughs deeply. The soothing huskiness brings me back to the room. Back to being a normal human again.
For now.
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