Josie nodded. “Oh yes. I’ve been in several javelin-throwing competitions, competing countywide.”
“She’s come in first a few times as well,” Bia added helpfully.
“That’s amazing,” Rob said, though whether or not he truly thought so was difficult to tell, given he used the same monosyllabic tone he’d used to describe his statistics.
“I also like designing marshmallow sculptures,” Josie continued, fighting to keep a straight face and refusing to look at Bia, who was grinning wildly.
Rob frowned. “Marshmallow…sculptures?” He looked a little concerned by the idea.
“That’s right,” Josie said with a smile. “I’m actually in the Guinness book of world records for building the largest ever marshmallow tower—you should look me up.”
He nodded slowly. “I’ll do that.”
Josie and Bia exchanged a look when the speeches started, then swiveled to face the stage. John’s speech managed to raise a few laughs, and Josie actually teared up when Laura’s dad cried onstage himself as he gave his. The speeches were immediately followed by the first dance, and, true to form, Laura had clearly taken dance lessons before the day, so she moved elegantly across the dance floor, her usual quick, stamping stride nowhere in sight.
Bia’s guy—Josie still hadn’t gotten his name—stood as the dancing opened up to the rest of them, and held out a hand to Bia. “May I?”
Bia bit her lip and glanced at Josie. “Well, I—”
Josie shook her head. “Go. I’ll come and join you when I’ve finished this.” She raised her glass of wine. Bia hesitated, then took the guy’s hand, who beamed down at her. She was barely as tall as his chest, even in those gigantic heels—not that that seemed to worry him.
Rob immediately focused in on Josie, pushing his glasses up his nose. “So where did you grow up, Josie?” He blinked at her a few times, waiting patiently.
She tried to resist the urge to sigh, took a sip of her wine instead. Then she shrugged. “Well, actually, I was raised in complete isolation in a forest for most of my childhood. What about you?” She cocked her head.
“Really?” Rob blustered, in a way that suggested he genuinely believed her. “That’s—”
He cut off as someone swept into Bia’s vacated seat. Josie stiffened, and slowly looked up at Max.
“May I?” Without waiting for an answer, he sat down.
Rob and Max introduced themselves, shaking their hands across Josie’s rigid body, then Rob waved a hand in her direction. “Josie was just in the middle of telling me a story of her childhood. Did you know she grew up in complete isolation in a forest?”
Josie felt herself flush, and finished the rest of her wine to compensate. Max raised his eyebrows, his lips twitching in that way of his. She tried not to meet his gaze. “Is that so?” he asked. She cleared her throat, nodded. “Well,” Max said with a grin, “tell us about it!”
Josie looked between them, then, deciding there was nothing for it, launched into a wildly invented story of her life in the forest, which included foraging for mushrooms and making traps, claimed that she knew how to start a fire with nothing more than just two sticks of wood, and that her grandmother was into dancing naked under the full moon. Rob kept shaking his head and saying “Fascinating,” and Max just kept asking more and more questions, getting really particular so that she had to come up with more and more obscure answers. It was a full twenty minutes before Rob stood up and excused himself. “I’ll be right back though,” he added. “I want to hear more about this!”
Max and Josie watched Rob leave the pavilion toward the toilets, then burst out into simultaneous laugher. “Oh my God,” said Josie, unable to stop and clutching her side.
Max grinned. “You are really quite convincing. I wouldn’t want to be on the other end of you lying.” For some reason, that had the effect of sobering her up, and the laugh died in her throat. She wiped at her eyes.
“Where’s Erin?” She looked around, but couldn’t immediately spot her.
Max waved a hand in the air. “Around.”
Josie was tempted to ask him what Erin thought about Max coming over to talk to her, but resisted. They knew each other, she supposed, so maybe it was only natural that he’d make an effort to talk to her.
She caught Laura’s eye on the dance floor, and when Laura beckoned her over, practically leaped to her feet, glad to have a real excuse to leave the table before Erin inevitably came along. She jerked her head toward the dance floor, turned away, then, feeling rude, looked back at him. “Do you, umm, want to come and dance? With everyone, I mean,” she added quickly, because his green-gold gaze had turned sharp.