“Then stop hitting onyourfriends.Jesus!” He snaps the joint out of Oz’s grasp and takes a hit. “I need this more than you know.”
“Fine. I’ll just go ask…someone else, prude.” Oz stumbles off to the other Marauders. I doubt any one of them will take him up on his offer.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say your brother has been morefriendlythan usual, Adal,” Nico says as he lights up a cigarette.
Adal takes another deep inhale and croaks out his words. “I know.” A cloud of white swallows his head as he exhales. “I have no idea what the fuck is wrong with his brain, so don’t ask me.”
He holds it out for me, but I wave it off. “Nah, I’m good.”
“Areyou? You look like you’re on the way to a good hangover yourself.” He nods toward the empty cups and plastic shot glasses I’ve collected.
There’s a long moment of silence. These two guys deal with issues that way. Not talking about them. But part of me feels like I could bust with anxiety. Heart poundingtoohardagainst my ribs. And despite the frigid temperature, my skin is moist with sweat.
“If I told you I was getting married, would either of you like to, um, be groomsmen?”
Both lift their eyes toward each other. Slowly. Then, they wander over toward me. Faces blank and mouths waiting.
I shrug. “Would you?”
“Would wewhat?” Adal finally says.
“You’re gettingmarried? To who?” Nico asks.
“I’m just wondering?—”
Oz rushes over like he had one ear on our conversation the entire time.
“I’ll be your best man! Can I pick out the tuxes,please?Like, classy ones, because I have a feeling you’ll try to Apollo it up, and I just can’t stand to look at paisley, Mr. President, I’m sorry. And, like,goldaccents. I won’t be able to attend if it’s tacky. But I’lldefinitelybe your mate if you have a great cake, too. And some good flowers. Flowers are important—” He waves his hands in the air dramatically as if he’s already planned every detail ofmywedding.
“I…think I’ll ask Valen to be best man.”
“Fucker.” Oz’s usual cheery mood quickly vanishes, and he spits on the ground, then strolls away. Wavering in his steps. He pauses. Spins. Then rushes at me and tosses his arms around my waist, pressing his face to my chest. “But thank you for making me a groomsman.”
“Sure thing.”
“Who is she?” Nico asks, jaw still unhinged.
I shake my head. “Got my…appointed. President wants me to get married sooner rather than later.”
Until I tellher, I’m not telling them anything.
He puffs out a cloud of cigarette smoke. “Mom and Dad are going to throw you a parade. Especially if you give them more grandchildren.”
“I know… That’s on the agenda, too.”
Adal’s eyebrows shoot up as he steadies his brother by gripping the back of his neck. “You Griffins and your super sperm.”
“Us? Fucker, your brother and Pippi are twins.”
“You have, like, ten brothers and a sister.”
Nico and I grimace. All we can do is nod.
“There’s only five of us,” I mutter under my breath. But the reputation still stands.
No one really makes fun of Valen Von Dovish’s family for how many kids they have. But my mom started young and didn’t want to stop. And we didn’t have a billion dollars.
Adal, as if sensing he overstepped a boundary, shoves a beer bottle into my chest, and I take it from him.
