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I laugh, fully able to imagine her bouncing around the house she shares with her fiancé as we chat.
“Oh, you laugh now, but I’m going to be a nightmare by the end of this, and you’re all going to hate me.”
“I could never hate you, Selene.”
I love how easy it is to smile with her. There’s a reason she’s my best friend. She’s one of the few people who can lighten my mood, no matter how upset or annoyed I may be.
“Riiight,” she says, drawing out the vowel. “First order of business. When’s your next school break?”
“Presidents’ Day, I think.”
“Perfect. I’ll have decided a date by then and I can show you all the vision boards.” She pauses. “You have spring break off, right?”
“Yeah, it’s . . . ,” I reply, pulling up my mental calendar.
“March 11–15.” She giggles. “I have the university’s academic calendar pulled up. Which is perfect because then we can go dress shopping while you’re here and still make it to the rodeo at some point.”
I shake my head in confusion. “The rodeo? Since when do you go to the rodeo?”
“Since always. It’s like a requirement of being a Houstonian. Attendance is practically mandatory.”
I sigh, knowing that a rodeo is in my future now, whether I like it or not.
“Please,” Selene whines, and I can picture her batting her long, dark eyelashes at me. “We can get the girls together and get drunk watching hot cowboys and cowgirls compete. Maybe Alvie can get us into the competitor suite.”
“Wait. What? Why?” I shake my head in confusion. “How?”
“He’s, like, super important or something in that world. And why wouldn’t you want to hang out with hot cowgirls? Or boys, I guess.” She says this almost accusatorially.
“Alright then. Does this mean I need to get, like, a denim skirt or something? Cowboy boots?” I ask, giving in to the path of least resistance.
“Probably,” she replies, her shrug coming through the speakers in my car. “Just scoot on over to Highland Park and pick up a pair at Miron Crosby.”
My jaw drops. “Selene! Those are like a thousand dollars at least. I don’t have that kind of money.”
Selene and I are definitely in different places in our lives financially. She’s an executive at a tech company, and I’m a poor PhD student. Which is normally fine, and even fun sometimes when she surprises me by shipping me luxuries I can’t afford on my own.
“Fine.” She huffs. “I’ll have Gunnar bring me up and I’ll buy us both a pair then.”
“Selene, weren’t we just making wedding plans? Don’t you need to save for that?”
“It’s fine. I don’t need a budget. Gunnar doesn’t let me spend any of my own money when we’re together. So, I’m using my salary to pay for the wedding. I’ll just get a white pair while I’m there and we can say it’s part of the wedding budget.”
“You’re a mess.” I laugh.
“No. I’m chaos. There’s a difference.” A deep chuckle comes through underneath her bright voice.
We spend the next two hours going through plans and ideas for the wedding and various other celebrations, everything from color palettes and invitations to cake, music, and venue options.
We hang up as I’m pulling up to my apartment, and just as I enter my garage and park, a notification comes through my dash.
New message from Bex Silva.
A smile spreads over my face, and I quickly swipe to open my messages.
Bex: Get home safe yet?
Naomi: That was spooky! I just pulled into my garage. How’d you know?
