“Can I use a pass off now?” Tessa pouted, staring at Pete the Penis.
“Are you sure you want to do that, Tessa?” I said seriously, raising my eyebrows. “Just think about it...if this is dare one...what else does your old bestie have in store for you?”
“It gets worse, doesn't it?” Tessa moaned.
“It sure does!” Krista snorted. “I would definitely save those passes if I were you! You know how Elle can be.”
Tessa looked from me to Krista and Becky, to the inflatable penis, and then back to me, resigned. Her expression quickly changed to one of devious satisfaction. “Just wait Elle. One day, I'll beyourmaid of honor and I'll be in charge ofyourbachelorette party.”
My best friend's words made the hollow ache in my chest more profound, but I knew she wasn't trying to hurt me. It wasn'therfault that the whole “marriage” thing was a sore subject for me, and had been since I'd had my heart broken in the wake of my first love's own self-destruction. It wasn't her fault that I couldn’t fall in love with my boyfriend, or that I was still hung up on the past and conflicted over what to do about it.
I forced an easy smile to my lips and grabbed my clutch. “Well, let's get going—Petereallyneeds to blow off some steam...” I joked, pushing the aching feelings deep down inside to deal with later...maybe.
Thankfully, Tessa was too distracted by the inflatable penis to pay attention to anything else. She held it as if it were contaminated while the seven of us headed down from our room to the limo. Each time we happened to come across another hotel guest or worker, Tessa would turn bright red with embarrassment, and the rest of us would explode into a fit of giggles.
I tossed my arm around her shoulders. “I promise, it will get easier,” I assured her with a wicked grin. “The limo has a mini-refrigerator and it’s full of enough booze to get this party started!”
Everyone piled into the limo, and I immediately started pouring glasses of champagne and passing them around. “Here’s to Tessa,” I said once everyone held a glass. My eyes landed on my best friend and I smiled slowly. “And to one last hurrah as a single woman!”
Glasses tinked together and our night of fun officially started.
* * *
One of the best things about a bachelorette party is that the bride doesn't have to buy her own drinks. None of us really had to buy our own drinks. Our tabs were picked up by single guys and drunk girls more often than not. Everyone got a kick out of Pete the Penis, too. He was pictured in so many selfies I was almost certain that by the end of the night, he’d be an Instagram sensation.
Tessa proved to be a good sport too. She was on a mission to complete all of her dares. She found a man with a moustache and kissed him on the cheek, asked a body builder if she could see his abs and pretended to wash laundry on them, got a younger guy to buy her a drink. She asked a bachelor to write down why she should marry him instead of the groom, asked the DJ to play five Justin Bieber songs in a row, and danced on the bar to said Justin Bieber songs. All while carrying around Pete the Penis.
My feet were aching and I desperately wanted to kick off my heels by the time we hit our final stop of the night—the male strip club. Tessa's final dare was to accept a lap dance on stage. I was surprised that she hadn't passed up any of her other dares, and I sort of figured she'd pass up on this. To my absolute delight, she didn't. She allowed herself to be led up on the stage by the cowboy stripper. He sat her down in a chair and started dancing for her and practicallyonher to Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy by Big and Rich. Our group—positioned in the booth closest to the stage—was struggling to keep it together.
Needing an excuse to break away from the group for a bit, I moved closer to the stage to take some pictures and videos. I nearly peed my pants laughing at Tessa's pink face and the cowboy's Magic Mike inspired moves as he thrust his pelvis at her in time to the music.
Becky sauntered over, holding two drinks with a bemused grin on her face as she watched Tessa. “Elle, you are cunning,” she laughed, holding one of the drinks out to me. I gratefully accepted it, taking a slow sip while she threw her now free arm around me. Normally, Becky wasn’t the hugging type, but tonight…she was the drunkest I’d ever seen her, and seemed to have no qualms with hugging everyone around her. “This night has been incredible—Tessa hasn't stopped smiling once. You outdid yourself!”
“Yeah well, the company is good,” I responded, trying to hold back a smile. I was glad my planning paid off, glad that Tessa seemed to be having the time of her life. Everyone she'd requested to be here was here and all were getting along perfectly. Hell, even Olivia seemed less annoying tonight, which was a bonus for me.
I could see Becky watching me carefully out of the corner of my eye. I tried to keep my smile in place and focused on taking some more pictures of Tessa on stage. Becky’s eyes were very similar to Braden’s—they were the same electric blue—and having them fixed on me made me feel uneasy.
“Are you okay though?” she asked me, her voice as low as she could get it over the sound of the club. “You’ve seemed a little distracted and distant…almost like something’s bugging you.”
“I’m fine,” I said, working harder to keep my smile in place. “I’m just a little tired.”
Becky snorted. “Dude, I’m a mom. You can’t bullshit a mom. We read lies like printed words in a book.”
“You’re pretty deep for a drunk person,” I laughed, hoping my unease wasn’t showing.
Becky grinned and shrugged. “Is it Braden?” she pressed, her eyes widening slightly.
“No,” I said on an exhale. It might have been a tiny lie, but there was also a lot of truth in my statement. None of this had anything to do with Braden—it was allme. It wasn’t Braden’s fault that I couldn’t emotionally handle the difficult profession I’d chosen. It wasn’tBraden’sfault that I couldn’t find that spark with Alex. I mean, lots of girls had their hearts broken and moved on. My inability to leave the past in the past was my problem, not Braden’s. It didn’t matter if he was the beacon, the focal point for my sadness a lot of the time—that’s whereIput him.
With a start, I shook my head, desperate to clear my thoughts and get back to the present. Becky was still staring at me expectantly, as if waiting for me to spill my secrets to her. Unfortunately for me…vodka made my lips loose.
“I’m just going through something,” I finally admitted, averting my eyes. “With work, I mean. It’s been…hard.”
Becky nodded thoughtfully. “I figured.”
“How so?”
“Most people don’t take a whole month off work to come out for a wedding,” she pointed out with a sad smile.
