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“I can’t believe you’re going away with him this weekend,” Chandra comments, leaning into my bedroom doorframe with her arms casually crossed just below her chest. “And to a wedding. You know what that’s going to be like, don’t you?”
“It’s going to be fine,” I insist, stuffing a set of pajamas into an overnight bag filled with my other belongings. I then zip it closed. “It’s just a wedding and just for one night. It’s not like a romantic getaway or anything.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes. He and I discussed it. I’m going as his date but as his friend. Nothing more.”
“Right.” She titters. “His friend…with benefits.”
“I told you, we stopped that. No more sex.”
“So, you thought a night away, at a wedding, while sharing a hotel room would be a genius idea?”
“Are you playing some kind of mom card with me right now?” My fingers lightly comb through the soft highlights of my sideswept locks cascading in waves over my shoulder.
“No. But you do realize that this isn’t the greatest idea. You’re playing with fire, and the burn is going to hurt so bad.”
“Yes. I do know there are potential consequences, but he’s my friend, and whether he wants to admit it or not, he needs some support right now. Plus, weddings blow when you go alone. So, I’m making sure he’s not.”
“And you’re the best person for the job?”
“Yes.” I slip a modest yet classic set of sapphire earrings through my ears and then fasten the matching necklace at the back of my neck. “No one knows how to play a part better than me. I’ve been doing it my entire life.”
Chandra sighs, dropping her hands to her sides. “It’s not healthy.”
“It’s just one night.” Pulling an elegant knee-length dress from my closet, I face my roommate with it draped across torso. “What do you think about this one?”
“It’s stunning.” She sighs. “Not too gaudy, unique enough to be noticed, and not too extravagant to detract from the bride.”
“That’s what I thought. Plus, it’s blue—the color of peace, harmony, and tranquility.”
I quickly slip off my yoga pants and tug the comfy T-shirt over my head, tossing them both into the laundry basket. Releasing the fine clothing from its hanger, I step into the garment and push my arms into the sleeves, opting to dress now in case there’s nowhere to change when we arrive. The zipper on the back sits in an awkward spot, so I step over to Chandra and spin around, nonverbally asking her to help me dress. She does so willingly and then adjusts the fabric at my waist.
I circle around and ask her, “How do I look?”
“Way too pretty for just friends.”
I frown.
“But,” she continues, “you do look beautiful, and this color is perfect.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. What shoes are you going to wear?” my fashion-loving roommate asks, her curiosity taking over.
“Nude strappy pumps with a modest heel.”
“Perfection.”
“I’m glad you approve.” I return to my bed, pick up my bag, and then slip into a comfortable pair of shoes for the long three-hour ride to Hillary’s hometown. “What about you? Anything fun planned for the weekend?”
“Just the usual with Jeremy—hanging out and homework.”
“How are things going with him, by the way?”
“Really good.” Chandra steps back from the doorway, out of the way, for me to leave the room. “He’s starting to put in job applications for when he graduates.”
“Oh, yeah?” I close my door, and then we both tread down the hallway toward the living room. “What about you? Are you applying as well?”
