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“So what happens now?” she asks.
“I don’t know,” I sigh. “I know I need to be cautious–I can’t just jump back into a relationship with him. Too much has happened, ya know? I keep telling myself that now is not the time to be impulsive–I need to go really slow and make sure I’m not making a mistake. Besides, I don’t even know if he wants to try again.”
“Well, that’s stupid,” she scoffs. “Of course he does. He asked you out, didn’t he?”
“For all I know, he just wants to catch up,” I argue. “Maybe he wants to be friends.”
“Oh, Kitty, I think you’re both smart enough to know that you could never be just friends. You’re each other’s lobsters.”
I smile at her Friends reference. She used to program old episodes on her DVR and we’d binge watch them together on rainy days.
“I don’t think I’d survive another fallout with him, Bree. I barely made it through the first time.”
She sighs. “I get it, Kat; I really do. But you’ll never know if you’re too afraid to try.”
“I know,” I grumble. “So what would you do in my situation?”
“You can start by asking him to be your date for the wedding,” she suggests.
“I can’t do that!”
“Why not?” she challenges. “It’s a perfect opportunity. Your maid-of-honor duties won’t take up too much time. You’ll have almost the entire reception to talk to him. Dance with him. Get freaky in the coat closet…you know, whatevs.”
“I am not getting freaky with
him in the coat closet!” I shriek.
“You never know,” she chuckles. “Just ask him, Kat. What’s the worst that can happen?”
“He could say no.”
“He won’t say no. Trust me.”
“I don’t know Bree…”
She sighs. “Okay, look. How about this? You said he’s coming to the party tonight, right?”
“Yeah. And?”
“So, why don’t you just play it by ear? Talk to him and catch up…whatever. You can decide if you want to ask him to the wedding then.”
“I guess that sounds okay…”
“Great!” she exclaims. “It’s decided then. If by chance, Gavin decides to be a dick, I’m sure Evan and Dylan won’t mind kicking his ass.”
“Har, har,” I say.
“All right, it’s settled. Go pick out a sexy dress and I’ll be there to pick you up at 8:30.”
“Okay, I’ll see you then.”
“Kitty, it will be okay; I promise.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Here you go,” Dylan says as he slides the shot in front of me. “Drink up, Princess.”
I tilt the glass and pour the whiskey down my throat. “Damn it! That burns! What the hell did you give me, Dylan?”
