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He kept staring at me.
“What?”
“I’m just processing.”
“You do that,” I muttered, leaning back.
“Okay, so you drink Dad’s wine with someone outside of the family not once, but twice? What is this thing I see between you two?”
“Friendship, that’s it. The first time I was a jerk and trying to apologize, this time she asked. I thought it was the least I could do after she bought me shoes—”
“She bought you shoes? Eli, come on, don’t lie—”
“We are just friends. We don’t see each other in any other way than that. It would be odd if we did. We are the only two people who understand what it feels like, so we talk. Get your head out of the gutter.”
He pursed his lips, drinking slowly.
“I mean it, Logan.”
“I didn’t say anything. I was just thinking how, when I was trying to be friends with her, you told her to stay away from me—”
“Just watch TV and shut up.”
He did, but only for about two minutes. “So…does that mean you’re coming to the wedding? She is going to be there.”
“No. Why would her being there matter to me?”
He shrugged. “I mean, you aren’t going because it will bring up memories, but she has to go. It sucks that she’s going to have to go through that alone.”
“She’s a big girl, Logan, but if makes you feel better, you can dance with her if you'd like.”
I am not going.
Chapter Eleven
Something New and Old
Guinevere
Bridesmaids dresses were supposed to be ugly.
Yet the dress I wore—and had spent almost a thousand dollars on—was probably better than any of the dresses I owned. The elegant one-shoulder red dress made me feel classy. Stevie had even picked out jewelry and shoes she suggested to go along with it. Yes, it was expensive—well, to me it was—but I had taken what Eli had said to heart and decided to splurge this time around. My longtime friend was getting married, she wanted her day, and if she wanted her girls to look as close to human perfection as possible, then fine. I would get my hair, makeup, and nails professionally done, and I couldn’t even lie about it not being fun. I felt a like a Barbie, but in a good way.
I walked into the waiting room looking for the rest of her bridesmaids, and when the four of them looked to me, their mouths—well, all except for Josephine—turned up in the widest grins, so I took it as a good sign.
“Gwen, you look amazing!” One of the women gasped, coming up to me. “From now on, just walk around in red. It is definitely your color.”
“Thank you. I was trying my best.” I laughed.
“Ladies.” Josephine stepped up. “Stephanie will be coming out any second. Let’s remember it’s her day.”
Their smiles dropped, and they took a step away.
I wanted to ask Josephine what I had done to make her so angry with me, but then again, I remembered that after that day I was never going to see her again, so I really didn’t care.
“Ladies.” Stevie’s mother came out of the dressing room, holding the doors closed behind her with a smile so wide it could crack her face. “May I present to you, the future Mrs. Van Allan!” She pushed open the doors.
Stevie turned to us, and in my head it was like she did it in slow motion with romantic music and lighting, that’s how beautiful she looked. Her hair was pinned up in a loose bun with a red rose in it, and she wore the best princess wedding gown I had ever seen, with little lace and sparkle accents.
