For the Love of Friends(33)

I clinked my glass to his. “To Doc Brown, wherever—and whenever—he may be.”

Becca appeared at my side. “We’re heading to Scotch,” she said, naming another bar. “Do you want to stay longer?”

I did. Which meant I shouldn’t. “No. I’m coming.” I looked at Alex. “It was nice running into you. Again.”

“Can I see you again?”

Yes. Say yes. “At this rate? I think that’s unavoidable.” I flashed him a smile and got up to leave. “See you around.” I didn’t turn around, but I could feel him watching me walk away.

“Smooth,” Becca said as we walked out. “Teach me your ways.”

“Just trying to be good. He’s off-limits.”





CHAPTER FOURTEEN


Amy called me at seven Sunday morning. And again two minutes later. Then three more times, until I finally answered. “What?” I asked gruffly. I had stayed out with Becca until shortly after one in the morning, when I declared defeat and went home, drunkenly mad at myself for not getting Alex’s number before I left the bar. But six hours and an empty bed later, I was very glad I didn’t have it.

“Did you make an appointment for today?”

“Was I supposed to?”

“Yes, it’s for your dress.”

I rubbed my eyes and came away with black fingers; apparently I hadn’t taken my makeup off when I fell into bed. “You didn’t tell me you hadn’t made an appointment.”

“Isn’t that your job? You’re the bridesmaid.”

“Technically, it’s your job. If you’re going to delegate things to me, you have to tell me what you need me to do.”

“Well, I haven’t done any of this before and you’re in like a million weddings, so I figured you knew what you were doing.”

I sighed heavily, lacking the energy to fight with her. “Which salon are you trying to go to?” By then, I knew them all. She named a fairly low-key one with a relatively less snooty staff. “I’ll call as soon as they open and see if they can squeeze us in. If they can’t, I’ll take the next available appointment.”

“Just not on a Saturday morning. Ashlee and I started doing kickboxing. And not Mondays. Or Tuesdays. Actually, just make sure it’s a Sunday. And soon.”

“Why can’t Ashlee do any of this if she’s your maid of honor?”

“Ashlee works a real job.”

I gritted my teeth. “I work a real job, Amy.”

“Ashlee is in finance, not some fluffy PR thing.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Okay, let me know what happens when you call the shop.”

I googled the store to find out what time it opened, then set my alarm for three hours later and went back to sleep. Amy was the absolute worst and I had no idea why Tyler wanted such a mess for a wife.



The bridal salon agreed to squeeze us in that afternoon because we were only doing bridesmaid dresses and I mentioned that another wedding I was in had an appointment the following week. My mother, Amy, and Ashlee arrived unapologetically ten minutes later than I told them to.

Amy was unnaturally bronzed for November. “Did you go to a tanning salon?”

“God no,” she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “That makes you look so old.”

I never went tanning and could have been a stand-in if they made a new Casper movie, but it still felt like an attempted zing. “Where’d the tan come from then? Spray?”

“Nah, Tyler and I went to Mexico last weekend. Didn’t you see my Insta stories?”

I didn’t tell her that I deliberately never watch her Instagram stories. It isn’t that I am completely uninterested in her life—although I kind of am—it is more that I can’t deal with the Boomerang everything and the excessive stickering, GIFs, and random videos detailing every vapid thing she does. It is like a constant vlog of her everyday life instead of a highlight reel and is exhausting on every level.

“Must have missed it. Why’d you go to Mexico?”

“Mom didn’t tell you?”

My mother was across the store already, stacking bridesmaid dresses across her arm while a saleslady hovered anxiously, offering to put them in a room for us. I tended to stop listening when she talked about Amy because it was all wedding talk now, but I didn’t remember hearing anything about Mexico.

“No.”

“Oh. Jake and Madison wanted us to come see the resort they booked for their wedding.”

Jake had texted me a picture the previous weekend of a tropical pool surrounded by palm trees, with the caption “wedding destination” and a check mark. But I hadn’t realized Amy and Tyler were invited on the trip.

“I didn’t know you guys were that close.”

“Jake figured it would be some good bonding time so I could get to know Madison better and he could get to know Tyler.”

“Did anyone think to invite me?”

“Would you have come? It was kind of a couples thing anyway.”

No, I wouldn’t have gone. I didn’t have the time, money, or inclination to have that much togetherness with my siblings and soon-to-be siblings-in-law. But it still stung to be excluded for the sin of being single.