Page 134 of Clinically Awkward

“I’ll ask her!”

“You should’ve asked her already!”

“We’ve been engaged for five days.”

“That’s plenty of time to discuss flowers!”

“Oh my God,” I said, turning to the others. “Help me.”

“You’re on your own,” Nathan said, grinning. “This is hilarious.”

“Hayden?”

“I’m staying out of it,” Hayden said. “I’ve got a boat to buy.”

“Gabriel?”

Gabriel held up his hands. “Sorry, man. I’m with Fitz on this one. You should probably know what flowers she likes.”

“THANK YOU,” Fitz said triumphantly.

“I hate all of you,” I said.

“No, you don’t,” Fitz said cheerfully. “Now, let’s talk about the guest list. How many people are we inviting? Fifty? A hundred? Two hundred?”

“We haven’t⁠—”

“Two hundred is too many,” Fitz continued, ignoring me. “Too impersonal. But fifty’s too small. You need at least a hundred. Maybe a hundred and fifty. That’s a good number. Intimate but not cramped.”

“Fitz—”

“And the seating chart,” Fitz said, his eyes lighting up. “Oh, the seating chart. That’s going to be a nightmare. You can’t put your mother next to Julien’s mother. They’ll kill each other.”

“They get along fine,” I said.

“They’re polite to each other,” Fitz corrected. “That’s not the same as getting along. Trust me, you need to separate them. Put them on opposite sides of the room. Maybe different tables entirely.”

“You’re overthinking this.”

“I’m being strategic.”

“You’re being insane.”

“Same thing,” Fitz said, waving me off. “Now, what about the bachelor party?”

“Oh God,” I said.

“We need to plan the bachelor party,” Fitz continued. “Something epic. Something memorable. Vegas? No, too cliché. Miami? Too hot. New Orleans? Too drunk.”

“We’re not going to New Orleans,” I said firmly.

“Why not?”

“Because the last time you went to New Orleans, you got arrested for trying to steal a street performer’s saxophone.”

“I was borrowing it,” Fitz protested. “And I gave it back!”

“You gave it back to the wrong person.”