Page 33 of Wedding or Not

“Of course he does. He’s always gazing at you besottedly when he thinks you’re not looking.” Iris says the words like they’re self-evident, like no one could doubt them.

Tessa falls into giggles, gasping about Wes being “besotted.”

I flush hotter and tell them both not to be silly.

But I can’t help but wonder.

He doesn’t dislike me the way I always assumed. He’s acted like he doesn’t mind hanging out with me lately.

Maybe he does think I’m pretty.

Maybe he’ll think I’m prettier than normal tonight.

Later that evening, I’m crossing my legs in my seat, wishing I hadn’t drunk the bottle of water on the drive to DC.

My mouth was dry, so I kept sipping the water, but now I have to pee, which means I’ll have to fight the crowds swarming the women’s room at intermission.

We have good seats. Wes is on the aisle, not far from one of the exits. I scouted the restrooms on the way in, and they’re not far from the closest exit doors. Normally, as soon as the applause began after this final song of the act, I’d jump up and run for the restroom, but that doesn’t feel like a very cool, relaxed move.

Wes might think it’s silly. He might be embarrassed or self-conscious about me sprinting for the bathroom.

I want to impress him. Not give him something else to mock about me.

The normal thing would be to stay through the applause and then proceed to line up at the women’s room with everyone else.

That’s what I should do.

Why did I drink so much water?

“What’s the matter?” Wes has leaned over to murmur the question in my ear as the singers on stage are building into a rousing climax.

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

“I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Intermission is after this song.”

“I know.”

He straightens up, silent as he watches my face in the dim light.

He’s thinking. I can almost hear his brain buzzing as he tries to figure out what’s gotten me uptight.

I give him a blithe smile in an attempt to divert him.

It doesn’t work.

He leans over again and murmurs, “As soon as the applause begins, we’ll make a run for it.”

I stiffen, my eyes wide. “We don’t have to.”

“Why not? We should try to beat the crowds, otherwise you’ll have to wait in line for ages.”

I check his face to make sure he’s serious. He is. Well, his mouth and eyes are laughing, but he means what he says.

He wants us to make a run for the restroom.