Page 124 of The Statistically Unlikely Reunion

They’re still holding hands and feeding off the laughter when Brody says, “Fuck. Am I not supposed to say banger now that I’m running for office?” He looks at Vi, who gives another small shake of her head. “Or was it fuck I wasn’t supposed to say?”

A few of the attendees are openly recording now, though Brody doesn’t seem to mind.

Vi leans into his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze and smiling up at him, which makes her next words more surprising. “Brody and I have decided not to marry.”

There are some audible gasps—even from the front tables where their parents are sitting. I’m pretty sure I see Khloe’s eyes widen, but I can’t be sure I’m not imagining it.

Brody is the one who, even with Vi’s arm now looped around his, gestures for us to simmer down. “This isn’t necessarily sad, guys. As a divorce attorney, I guess I just cost someone a retainer⁠—”

There are groans this time, as well as some scattered good-natured laughter.

Vi raises her voice to be heard over the crowd. “But we’re separating as friends, which is better than Gatsby and Daisy.”

“I mean seriously, have any of you actually read The Great Gatsby? Why didn’t anyone stop us from planning a Gatsby party for a wedding?”

It’s obviously scripted, but Vi’s delivery feels natural. “We’re not still having that fight, are we? I thought the movie was romantic.”

“She thought Leonardo Dicaprio was romantic.” Brody sighs dramatically. “So we’re separating as friends, and I think just as importantly, anyone can have a destination wedding, am I right? Genevieve? Where you at? I think you said you attended twenty-three weddings last year?”

A young woman I can’t quite see corrects Brody. “Twenty-five!”

“So yeah, anyone can have a wedding, anyone can have a destination wedding, but how many destination unweddings have you been to?”

“I don’t think this is going to be a trend, baby.”

Brody gives Vi a quizzical look. “Why?” He gestures to the audience. “I mean, think of it from a broader perspective—this is basically community service. Now that we’re both single, we can both enter the dating pool, instantly increasing the quality of available singles.”

There are some catcalls now. Some mildly inappropriate remarks about who’d like to call dibs. Brody shrugs and points a finger up, making a circling motion. “In summary: Tomorrow morning, there’s no wedding. Instead, we’re having a paintball unwedding.”

“There’s no paintball in Lānaʻi,” someone I can’t see shouts.

“Weird that you know that, Greg, but actually, you’re wrong. If you pay a paintball company to fly in their equipment from Maui . . . ”

“I’m gonna wear my wedding gown. It’s beautiful, I’m not sure what else I could possibly use it for, and this way, it’ll be a work of art by the end.”

“And then afterward, when we’d normally sit around listening to classical renditions of Taylor Swift ballads, we’ll change, shower, and the reception will happen exactly as planned.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence before Lucas, standing in one corner as if he’s been there the entire time, starts clapping.

It’s not long before everyone joins in. Some of the Techers start to bang on the table and another one clinks their glasses, both traditional signals that the bride and groom should kiss.

Brody and Vi look toward each other, and there’s a small something that passes between them. He leans in and kisses her on the forehead, she leans forward and places a hand on his chest.

They’re both smiling.

46

UNWEDDING PAINTBALL FIGHT FOR THE AGES

PRESENT

Of the nearly two hundred guests who were invited, only a little over a hundred show up for paintball at ten a.m., the original gathering time for the wedding. Which . . . makes sense, honestly. By yesterday’s rehearsal dinner, it was clear that a bevy of aunts and uncles (and judging by their age, maybe some great-aunts and great-uncles) as well as the littles (the toddlers and babies) had arrived, meaning not everyone is really paintball age appropriate.

Almost everyone gathered is in our general age group, and despite being warmed about this being the Unwedding Paintball Fight for the Ages, most have shown up in their wedding finery (for the women, even down to perfectly curled, cascading hairdos).

We’ve also clearly separated into his and hers camps: Vi and Khloe’s core group of friends and other mid-level influencers. The Techers and their spouses.

Vera, who’s dressed appropriately but has told me she plans on getting out quickly, glances at Lucas. She doesn’t bother to keep her voice down. “You don’t look like you’re pining away anymore.”