Behind her, Austin’s groomsmen were practically drooling like a horde of hound dogs. Samira was stunning.
End of sentence.
But she wasespeciallystunning tonight, in a deep green dress and her long black hair hanging in a loose fishtail braid. I’d taught her how to do one several years ago.
“Great!” Katie tried to smile, but I caught her shift from one foot to the other right before Samira hugged me hello. It wasn’t hard to figure out why. Samira wasn’t only a friend; she was also my brother’s ex-girlfriend. Best friends since sixth grade, they’d dated all through high school and for their first year of college. My parents and I’d been nothing short ofshockedwhen Austin told us they’d broken up. We thought they were endgame, especially since they went to Johns Hopkins together. “We’ve been together for so long,” Austin had said, insisting the breakup was mutual (his sniffling over the phone didn’t help his case). “We need freedom to live our own lives for a while.”
Everyone was bummed, but we became optimistic whenthey’d stayed close. We thought it was only a matter of time before they got back together. It was fine when Samira started dating someone new. It was fine, because eventually…
Well, eventually, Austin met Katie.
“Sam and I arefriends,” my brother had said the time Dad had brought up rekindling a romance with Samira (I mean, what exes decided to live together senior year?). “Best friends, butjustfriends. I’m with Katie.” He grinned, as if the world were made of ice cream and rainbows. “IloveKatie.”
Now, Samira was at Johns Hopkins Med, and after looping her arm through Austin’s, Katie politely asked a few questions about the semester, and Samira answered them self-deprecatingly. Austin’s best friend was brilliant, and everyone fell in love with her…
Except Katie.
You really can’t make an actual effort?I wanted to ask, because while Katie talked to Samira, she didn’t seem genuinely interested. Sometimes, like right now, she even sounded fake. Samira might’ve been Austin’s ex, but she was also like family. She and Austin always took me sledding as a little kid, we watched her high school diving meets, and her desserts were a staple at our summer cookouts. We loved her, and she wasn’t going anywhere. It was time Katie truly accepted it.
The bridesmaids and groomsmen soon blended together in conversation, and after Yasmin and Meredith returned, Austin’s best man flagged down the professional photographer circulating the party. “Group photo?” he suggested.
“Group photo!” everyone agreed.
I smiled for the camera, but internally started plotting my escape. How was I going to get out of being Katie’s bridesmaid?
I’m not, I thought as the flash went off.This is also Austin’s wedding, remember?
I really was going to have to grin and bear it.
Four
“No, no, no.” Connor shook his head. “You are not faster than me. Absolutely not.”
“Well not rightnow,” I said. “Not in these shoes.” I gestured to my feet, which were really starting to hurt thanks to my heels. After making the rounds at the party—please don’t ask me to recall anyone’s name—I was hiding in the kitchen to enjoy a plate of chocolate petits fours for dessert. But instead of stretching out on the heated floor, I’d hopped up on a barstool at the island to stay out of the catering crew’s way. Connor McCallister, my oldest friend, had had the same idea. We hadn’t been able to hang out yet tonight. He’d tried to extract me from a conversation earlier but ended up trapped in another. “But seriously,” I told him, “Iamfaster than you.”
Connor’s face reddened. He played midfield on the lacrosse team at school and prided himself on being in great shape. We ran eight miles together on the canal during our offseasons.
“Careful, Mads,” Marco said from the sink. The party was winding down, so he’d started the dishes. “McCallister might detonate.”
“Lace up your sneakers,” Connor said suddenly. “We’ll race down the driveway.”
“Yes, in the dark.” I nodded. “Sounds like a smart idea.” I knocked his foot under the island. “May I point out that you’realsowearing the wrong shoes?”
Connor’s mouthful of mini lemon bar made it impossible to understand whatever he said back. It reminded me of Halloweens together as little kids. There was a neighborhood at the end of my house’s long driveway, and the McCallisters were the closest thing the Fisher-Michaels family had to next-door neighbors (there weren’t many kids in the ten-house neighborhood, so Connor and I became attached at the hip after our first game of cul-de-sac street hockey). We always trick-or-treated together before ending the night at the McCallisters’ to sort out our haul, and when we got older, we convinced Austin to drive us tomuch biggerneighborhoods so we could double or triple our treasure. I smiled to myself; it didn’t matter if we were six or twelve—if I shut my eyes, I could see Connor trying to shove an entire Milky Way into his mouth.
“I do have my sneakers in the trunk, Connor,” Marco said, apparently fluent in Mouthful. “But I know you’re gonna ask me to ref, and I’m still working.”
Rose Álvarez clucked from Da’s built-in kitchen counter desk. “Working hard or hardly working?” she mused. “If you keep chatting…” She glanced up from her laptop to give her son a look. “I’m clocking you out.”
Marco flushed, and I watched him scrub the next dish until it shined.
“There’s an easy way to settle this,” I told Connor. “What was your mile time in gym this week?”
“I haven’t run it yet,” he said. “Remember my dentist appointment? I missed the last couple periods of the day.” He paused. “What was yours?”
“Six minutes flat,” I said proudly, but Connor didn’t react. His attention had shifted to his girlfriend; Brenna had suddenly reappeared with another dessert plate piled high. She knew the way to Connor’s heart.
And listen, I liked Brenna; she was easygoing and knew the answer to any and everyGilmore Girlstrivia question, but why was sheheretonight? She and Connor had only been dating a month, and his family’s invitation hadn’t included a plus-one.
