The reception is alreadyin full swing when we arrive, and I catch our reflection in the ballroom’s mirrored walls. Juliette in her bridesmaid dress with her hair down, me in Owen’s dad’s borrowed shirt with a bruised jaw that’s turning an impressive shade of purple. We look like we’ve been through something, which I guess we have.
“Stop staring at yourself,” Juliette says, but she’s smiling.
“I’m not staring at myself. I’m staring at us.” I touch my jaw gingerly. “We look like we have a story.”
“We look like you got in a bar fight at my sister’s wedding.”
“Exactly. A story.”
The ballroom has been transformed. Soft lighting everywhere, candles on every table, flowers overflowing from centerpieces. The dance floor gleams in the center, and there’s already a crowd at the bar.
“There you are!” Emma appears with a glass of champagne in each hand, slightly tipsy already. “Everyone’s been asking about the fight. You’re famous.”
“Infamous,”I correct.
“Same thing.” She hands us the champagne. “Garrett’s sulking in the corner with Melissa. If looks could kill.”
I glance over and sure enough, Garrett’s at a table near the back, Melissa beside him pressing ice to his nose. He looks rough - worse than me, which brings me probably too much satisfaction.
“Let them sulk,” Juliette says, taking a sip of champagne. “Not my problem anymore.”
My phone buzzes and I pull it out to find the Puckaneers group chat in full meltdown.
Dex
IT’S BEEN TWO HOURS
Brody
Rodriguez is definitely in Canadian jail
Luca
Do we need to call someone? I don’t know how Canadian jail works
Anderson
He’s not in jail
Dex
How do you know
Anderson
Because he’s reading these messages. See the read receipts?
Brody
Maybe the cops are reading them
Dex
Oh shit what if the cops are reading these
I HAVE NEVER COMMITTED A CRIME
Roman
