Normally, I tell them everything when they ask. But telling them I slept with Olive?
It just feels…wrong.
Like it’s actually private and important.
It’s something between her and I that nobody needs to know about, that nobody can take away from us.
"Now, go get ready," Orlando says. "You have some vows to pretend to confess."
***
The chapel is blindingly pink. Red and blue rose petals are scattered down a velvet aisle runner that looks like it came from a prom in 1987. I’m not sure if I’ve walked into my wedding or a fever dream.
Is she going to show up, or have I ruined it all before it even started?
Do I have anything in my teeth?
Are my laces tied up? The shoe on my right foot feels a little looser than the one on my left.
Should I have worn a skinny tie instead of a bow tie?Should I even be wearing a tie?
All things I want to ask the two guys standing beside me, but can’t find the courage to verbally spew, and I don’t know why.
Because they will believe you might actually have feelings for this girl.
Shaking the thought away, I trust that the image I saw in the mirror before I left the hotel remains the same, and that everything is the best it’s going to get.
I just have to hope she likes it.
"You sure she’s going to show up?" Orlando teases, and I swallow the lump in my throat as he asks the question I wasn’t brave enough to.
"If she doesn’t, you can always marry that chick there." Ryder nods toward the end of the aisle. "She looks enough like her. The public won’t know the difference. Hell, if you don’t, I might. She’s fuckingpretty."
It’s Lizzie. Of course it is. She beams as she walks down the aisle, her heels squashing the petals like she’s in a runway show instead of this pink nightmare.
I’d been so focused on the hideous decor that I didn’t hear the door open or see Jenna walk out first, holding a life-size cardboard cutout of Cassandra.
Whoever designed this place needs their license revoked. It’s even worse than the photos online.
"That’s her sister, you dick." I backhand his chest. Fixing my posture, I link my fingers together in front of my waist, my feet shoulder-width apart.
"Is she single?" Ryder asks as Lizzie gets closer. By the look on her face, she definitely heard him.
"She is," Lizzie replies with a wink, standing in front of Jenna.
I glance over my shoulder and offer a quick smile to the three people closest to Olive.
Lizzie and Jenna each wear a different shade of green. Their dresses aren’t over the top, but they’re way too nice for a place like this.
And still, it’s the cardboard cutout of Cassandra that stands out most.
I shudder, feeling her eyes burn into me from across the room.
If the girls look like that…I don’t let myself wonder what Olive might be wearing.
Me, Ryder and Orlando, though? We stick out like a steaming pile of shit in a brown paper bag on somebody’s porch. We’reway too overdressed to be seen in a place like this, and I know for a fact people are waiting outside to take our photos the second we leave.
The music changes to an acoustic version of 'I can't help falling in love' byElvis, and my stomach falls at my feet. My mouth feels like sandpaper, making it impossible for me to swallow.
