Ha! Cherry Rain. That’s a funny stripper name. I laugh so hard that I flail, accidentally knocking Valerie’s purse off the table. “Bugger.” I slowly slide off my chair and grope around the dark, sticky floor for it. Even in this drunken state, I’m fully aware of how disgusting this is. When I finally find it and pop back up, I stumble a bit as I seat myself again.
Okay, no more drinks for you, Brianna. Well, after I finish this one, that is. I don’t want to be wasteful…
Now, where’s my baby sister? I scan the bobbing crowd, trying to focus, then spot Amber, who is now being held up by Mr. Sleazy Dancing Man. She has her legs wrapped around his waist, and they’re simulating sex. Oh, dear. That’s my cue.
I push my way through the club in my mission to get Amber away from the dirtbag. When I get on the dance floor, Quinn pokes my arm and points to the bride. “Oh my God! She’s having so much fun!”
Not bothering to answer, I cut across the dance floor and tug on Amber’s arm. “Get down from there.”
Turning to Mr. Sleaze Bag, I bark, “Put her down, now!”
He does what I say, which only emboldens me. Wagging a finger in his face, I say, “Look, pal, she’s practically married. Go find someone single to grind.”
“She’s not married yet,” the guy says, wrapping his arms around Amber’s back and pulling her to him.
I slap his arm. “Off! NOW!”
I must sound scarier than I think because he listens and lets go of her. Grabbing Amber’s hand, I pull her as I walk toward our table. “You come with me.”
“But I’m having fun,” she whines.
Turning back to her, I stop in the middle of the dance floor. “Is this the type of fun Dane would like to see you having?”
Her shoulders slump, and her face crumples. She shakes her head and wails, “I don’t deserve him!”
Oh, for God’s sake.
Amber sobs and clings to me, nearly pulling me down in my unsteady state. “I’m a terrible person. He shouldn’t marry me!”
“You’re not a terrible person. You’re just drunk.”
Pulling back from me, she shakes her head vigorously. “No, I’m awful. Dane could do so much better.”
“Danecould do better? Not fucking likely,” I slur. “Dane’s an idiot. If anything, you’re too good for him. Except just now when I had to stop you from humping that stranger on the dance floor.”
Wait. Did I just say that out loud?
Amber stares at me, her bottom lip quivering like it did when she was about to have a tantrum as a child.
Screwing up her face, she screams, “You hate my fiancé! I knew it!”
She storms past me, weaving in and out of the club-goers with surprising speed given how drunk she is. I follow her, trying to grab her arm and begging her to wait. “Wait, Amber. I don’t hate him. I’m sorry. I never should have said that.”
She stalks past the bouncers, and soon we find ourselves on the quiet, dark sidewalk. A smattering of people stand around smoking and chatting. Managing to grab her hand, I turn her to me. “I’m sorry, okay? Dane’s a great guy. I only said that so you won’t think you’re a bad person.”
“No, you didn’t. You’ve never liked him because he’s not some boring book-smart guy. But I love him, Bree! Ilove him, and he loves me!” Her raised voice is now attracting the attention of anyone within a block, but we’re both too drunk to care. “I just wish you could be happy for me instead of jealous! I know you’re pushing thirty and you’re single, but can’t you just support me?”
Jealous? Pushing thirty? Oh, it is on now. “You think I’m jealous that you’re about to marry some meathead?” I shake my head so hard my entire body sways. “I wouldn’t marry a guy like him if someone had a gun to my head. He’s a moron, and he’s going to drag you down with him. You could be so much more than this, Amber!” I yell, gesturing to her T-shirt. “You’re smart and funny and beautiful, and you’re settling for the first guy who came along, instead of waiting for the right guy. Or no guy! No guy would be a much, much better option. Be on your own. Make something of yourself. Don’t just settle for being Mrs. Hammer, mother of four, pretty, vapid housewife.”
Amber’s head snaps back like I just slapped her face, and I might as well have. “So that’s how you really feel,” she sobs. “I knew it deep down, but I hoped you could accept me for who I am.”
“How can I accept you wanting to throw away every ounce of potential you’ve got? You could be so much more than you are.”
A gasping sound comes from behind me, and I turn to see Bitches Two through Four glaring at me. They surround her, forming a tight circle meant to cut me out, while they say soothing things like, “Don’t listen to her. She’s only upset because you’re getting married before her. No one would ever be good enough for Bree. Let’s go back inside and forget about this. We’re your real sisters.”
Quinn glares over her shoulder at me. “Just because Roderick took off on you and you’re stuck raising Isabelle alone, doesn’t mean other people can’t find true love.”
“Yeah,” Kandi adds. “So you’re older than her and still single. You don’t have to be such a bitch to your little sister for being happier than you.”
