“How much is it going to be per person?” Yasmin asked.
“Six-fifty,” Reese answered.
It took everything in me not to balk. Six-fifty?Six hundred and fiftydollars? Who could freaking afford that?
Well, I guess my fellow bridesmaids could. Except for Paige—who was frowning at her tablet—the others nodded like it was no big deal.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Marco quickly scribble something in his spiral notebook.You okay?it read.
I wanted to shake my head, but the best I could do was gulp. These women were adults with jobs; I was seventeen going on eighteen and hadneverhad a job. Austin had been our town’sgo-to babysitter, but while I liked kids, I didn’tlovespending hours with them. And I was always too busy with field hockey to fold clothes at Lululemon or waitress. I made money over the summer by following Da’s laughably long list of household chores or completing miscellaneous tasks for the Cheval Collective.
I needed that money for the school year, but thanks to the bridesmaid dress, shoes, and my cut of the Airbnb, I could forget it. Not to mention whatever else I spent on the bachelorette trip. Amanda was now talking about each person bringing food and making a meal?
“Breathe,” Marco said when the Zoom finally ended. I slammed my laptop shut so hard that I worried I’d broken it for a second. “You haven’t let out a breath in ten minutes.” He paused to recalculate. “Actually, closer to fifteen.”
“Why do I have to pay for all this?!” I exhale-exclaimed. “Katie askedmeto be a bridesmaid! I didn’t askherif I could be one. I didn’t realize that accepting meant offering up all the money I have to my name!”
Marco chuckled. “Ah, Mads, there’s no shame in declaring bankruptcy.”
I groaned. “Marco!”
“What?” he said, smiling. “You’re being overdramatic.”
“But true!” I countered.
He didn’t argue. “Listen, this is the way it is these days,” he said calmly. “My sister has been in four weddings, and they’ve all been an investment.”
“Are you sure you don’t mean a bill?” I grumbled, even though I’d caught his drift. Carina Álvarez was invested in her friendships; she didn’t consider them a cost.
But wasn’t asking people to spend over a thousand dollars kind of too much?
“I hate this!” I announced to the world. “I hate this, I hate this, I hate—”
“Excuse me, what do we hate?” Dad pushed through the front door. “Hopefully today’s list isn’t too long yet.”
I made an unintelligible noise.
“We just logged off a bridesmaid Zoom call,” Marco translated. “They went over details for Katie’s bachelorette weekend. A follow-up email is imminent.”
“And how did that go?” Dad asked me.
“Do you think Nana will write me an early birthday check?” I answered. “September isn’tthatfar away…”
“Ah.” He easily picked up what I was putting down, retracing his steps over to the doorway. “Lee!”
Marco packed up his laptop and books. “I’m going to do some reading in the Garden,” he said as Da joined the party on the porch.
“I suspect I know what this is about,” Dad said once Marco was gone. He, Da, and I sat together at the table. “But humor us.”
I did, and didn’t give my parents a chance to respond before adding, “Do I really need to go on the trip? I mean, I can’t drink and Amanda talked about this whole wine crawl.”
“Trail,” Dad corrected, amused. “It’s winetrail.”
“And pubcrawl,” Da said, then cleared his throat. “If you don’t want to go, Mads, we aren’t going to stop you from bowing out. This is your decision.”
Dad nodded. “Conflicts happen.”
Guilt seeped into my skin. Conflictsdidhappen, but for once, I didn’t have one. Katie’s bachelorette was in mid-August, which was usually when we took our family vacation. By that time, I was finished with camps, my club team training was way more relaxed, and high school preseason didn’t start until the week after we got home. I’d be lying if I said I was unexpectedly busy. My dads were going to visit my great-aunt Penny in Rhode Island, but Austin would see right through that if I asked to tag along.
