“A little. You're so—” he gestures vaguely at all of me.
“Good at pretending?” I offer.
“I was going to say warm. Present.” He pauses. “But yeah. I've been running on fumes since about four this morning. I need to recharge soon.”
“You're an introvert too?”
“Profoundly.” He says it with such relief I almost laugh. “I've spent fifteen years in a career that requires me to be on at all times and I've never once told anyone that I go home afterward and sit in a dark room for an hour.”
“I go silent for entire days after big trips.” I look at him. “I guess we're the same.”
“Apparently. Let’s blow this pop stand and go somewhere quiet.” The corner of his mouth lifts. “Give me ten minutes to say goodnight to my parents.”
“Give me ten minutes to say goodnight to Kate,” I say.
He nods and stands, and I watch him go find his parents. The heart-shaped stone is in his jacket pocket. I don't know how I know that. I just do.
Kate finds me before I find her. She wraps both arms around me from behind and squeezes.
“Best maid of honor in the history of maids of honor,” she says into my shoulder.
I lean back against her. “I rolled a scooter down your aisle.”
“You were perfect.” She comes around to face me and takes both my hands. Her eyes are very bright. “And I saw that kiss with Max on the dance floor.”
“Mmhmm.”
“Lauren.”
“Kate.”
“Thank you,” she says, and a tear runs down her face as she pulls me into a hug. The DJ segues from an old rock song to Earth, Wind, and Fire’s “September,” and Ginger is the first one on the floor, her silver sandals catching the light. Carolyn follows, laughing at something Ginger says, and then Sadie grabs Kate's hand and spins her out onto the floor like she's been waiting all night for this song.
I watch from my scooter for approximately four seconds before Natalia appears at my elbow.
“Don't even think about sitting this one out,” she says.
So I don't. So much for solitude with Max. I roll toward the dance floor and we form a loose, laughing circle — Kate and Sadie, Ginger and Carolyn, Natalia, and me on my scooter — and we dance the way women dance when they're not performing it for anyone, arms up, completely ridiculous, completely free. At one point Ginger takes one of my hands and we sway together while she beams at me like I'm already one of her kids.
I think I might cry again. I don't.
The song fades and the DJ's voice cuts through the room. “Alright, all the single ladies — and I do meanallof you — front and center. We've got a bouquet that needs a new home.”
There's a collective surge forward. I hesitantly follow Sadie and angle the scooter so I’m facing Kate, who is at the front. She’s laughing as she turns her back to us, bouquet in hand.
“Ready?” the DJ calls.
“No,” I mutter, to no one in particular.
“Five… four…” the DJ says, and the rest of the crowd chimes in. “Three…two…one!”
Kate tosses the bouquet, the flowers sailing over her shoulder in a perfect, unhurried curve — straight at my face. My hand goes up on pure reflex.
“Aaaaack,” I yelp, mostly because I’m worried the flowers are going to smack me in the face, and with my luck, they’ll probably somehow break my nose. I snatch them when they’re two inches away while everyone laughs.
The room erupts in a cheer.
I stare down at the white roses in my hand with an expression I can only imagine is deeply undignified.
