By midnight, I was under my covers with Francine sprawled outacross my bed. Almost all the bridesmaids had texted to ask how the night went.She’s not gonna answer you, Yaz, Reese wrote.JProm always has an after-party!
Davis must not have texted her, I thought as I tapped out of the chat and into my chat with Austin. He’d asked how the evening had gone, too.
Private school is overrated, I typed in response.
Not even ten seconds later, the bridesmaid chat buzzed with a new message from freaking Katie:Sources suggest Davis did not receive a rose.
“Oh, how you irk me, Katherine Marie Gallant,” I muttered, though I was fighting a slight smile. Katie was pretty witty in this group chat. “How you irk me so…”
Text bubble after text bubble soon popped, including one from Meredith. It was funny like Katie’s:Mads Fisher-Michaels’s rep has yet to confirm.
I giggled and snuggled deeper into my pillows. But before Francine’s even breathing lulled me to sleep, I circled back to one more text thread.
You want to watch a movie later?I’d texted Connor before pulling out of Hun’s parking lot.I’ll bring snacks!
Tempting…he’d replied.Is Hun’s JProm THAT bad?
Eyes welling up with tears, I called him instead of texting back. “I’m bailing on the dance,” I said as soon as Connor answered. Music and voices mingled in the background. He was out somewhere. “Ready for a rant?”
“Popcorn’s already popped,” Connor said.
I told him everything but made sure to add that Davis wasn’t really a bad guy, that he apologized, and that I even thought we’d be friends someday. “But this nightsucks,” I concluded. “A raging dumpster fire…”
Drive safely, he messaged after we’d hung up.Text me when you get home.
Twenty-five minutes later, I wrote,Home!
Connor had immediately hearted the message, but I didn’t expect him to respond beyond that—he was hanging with friends at Lauren Bitterman’s house.
So it’d been a surprise when he texted:Same! I’ll be over with a fire extinguisher in five. Let’s save the night with Top Gun?
Now, after aTop GunandTop Gun: Maverickdouble feature, I read our messages one more time before locking my phone and closing my eyes. My heart warmed. Connor had showed up for me before, but tonight had been different.
Hadn’t it?
Ten
On April twenty-something, it was time to go bridesmaid dress shopping.Bridesmaids assemble!Amanda had texted, even though the wedding wasn’t until freaking Christmas.
Katie had chosen a store in Philly to start the search, and everyone except Meredith—still living on St. Croix—was coming into town for the festivities. Mrs. Gallant and Amanda had offered to pick me up on their way into the city. Samira had surprised me with a visit, and we were hanging out on the front porch when a silver Audi pulled up my driveway. Samira waved to Amanda and Mrs. Gallant before hugging me and disappearing into the house. I guess she wasn’t in the mood for small talk. “Have fun,” she whispered as a goodbye.
“Was that Samira?” Mrs. Gallant asked once I’d buckled my seat belt. “What’s she doing here?”
“Visiting,” I said. “She got here late last night.”
“That’s nice,” Katie’s mom said lightly, but I caught Amanda purse her lips and take her phone out of the car’s cupholder. Part of me worried she was about to text her sister,since Austin had come home for dinner last night. Katie had a work event.
But Luke Bryan soon sang through the Audi’s speakers, so she must’ve been on Spotify. After the second song, Mrs. Gallant turned down the music and brought up Katie and Austin’s save-the-dates. They’d just been mailed, and I remembered last month: Dad had compiled a comprehensive list of family and friends from the groom’s camp and we’d sat at the kitchen table long after we finished dinner, going through it together. It had started out easy and fun with Nana, Austin’s godparents, and the McCallisters, but then we’d hit Dad’s clients. “Harry, I don’t know why some of these people are even on the list,” Da said. “You haven’t seen Ron and Lisa Bierman in at least five years…”
I’m not shooting the messenger, Austin had texted after I’d emailed him our finalists,but you guys need to seriously cut this down.
We DID cut it down, I said.Twice!
Third time’s the charm?he joked, and when I relayed the request to our parents, they sighed but nodded. The Gallants must’ve had a tally as long as Santa’s naughty-or-nice list, and apparently, the bride’s side had the upper hand on invites.
“I know they aren’t your style, Mom,” Amanda said as Mrs. Gallant merged onto the highway. We’d moved on to formal invitations. “But the standard white card stock with a navy-blue border and typeface isn’t really fashionable anymore.”
Mrs. Gallant shook her head. “I disagree, darling. Thoseare classic.” She flipped her blinker to shift into the left lane. “Traditional.”
