by Jolene Perry
But my stomach starts constricting because I MIGHT HAVE WANTED IT TO BE A DATE. I mean, what is that? Dates lead to commitment and commitment leads to temporary insanity and temporary insanity leads to full on mental illness—picking out china patterns, choosing museums to get married in—and ends with two fucked-in-the head sons and a dad trying to hold it together when he’s just as fucked-in-the-head as they are.
So no, I definitely don’t want it to have been a date. Either time.
All you’re doing is being nice to her. Helping with the wedding, I tell myself. Which is true and even further drives my point home. I’m sure Derrick never planned on ending up like this when he took Lora on a date. Luckily, I’m not only better looking than my brother, but I’m smarter too.
Then why do I still kind of feel like puking? Why can’t I get her laugh out of my head? It’s higher-pitched than her voice but not annoyingly so. Hot high-pitched. Or the way her breath catches when I accidentally-on-purpose brush up against her? And the way her eyes are on me, studying me like she wants to memorize every part of me that she can—the way I obviously want to, too, since I’m dissecting her fucking laugh and breathing patterns!
Stop thinking about it. That’s all I need to do is stop thinking about her.
***
“Dude, you’ve been all weird and sulky lately. Did someone kick your dog? Scratch Mary? Oh, you got turned down by a girl!” Paul turns down the music in Mary.
It takes everything in me not to ignore him and turn it back up. First, when the hell did he get so observant? Usually he doesn’t notice anything that isn’t a way for him to get attention. Second, he had to go and remind me that I have been weird. Oh, and then he hit the nail on the head that it’s about a girl. Not that I’ll admit it.
“I’m not sulky. Who even uses that word?” Except I am sulky, and I know it.
I flip down the sun visor. I can’t stop thinking about the sort-of date, and how I didn’t hate the idea. Did it start that way with Derrick? No, I can’t let myself think like that. I don’t like her. She’s angry voodoo-doll chick.
“I use that word, and you’re definitely sulky man. Is it the wedding shit?” Paul’s been my friend forever. He’s the one who knew us before and after Mom. Besides Derrick, no one else would even know to bring up the wedding pissing me off.
Well, except Ziah, I guess, but she doesn’t know why.
Paul also knows I won’t want to talk about it.
“I don’t want to talk about the wedding.”
He doesn’t push it. We’re cool like that and know when to go there and when not to.
“Chastity asked me about you at school today. She wants us all to go do something.”
This is where I should be jumping at the opportunity to go out with another girl. To get my mind off Hanes, but I’m not sure I’m feeling it. It doesn’t sound as cool as it usually does—which I chalk up to being tired and busy playing wedding planner.
“We’ll see. Things are kind of crazy right now.”
“That’s cool. Derrick asked me to be in the wedding, too. I didn’t see that one coming.”
I glance at Paul and see him scratch his head. He has the huge-ass Paul smile on his face. He’s stoked.
“You’re like a brother to him. We’ve been making his life hell ever since we could walk.”
Paul laughs and then my cell goes off, letting me know I got a text. Picking it up, I see Hanes flash across the screen. Damn it. I just stopped thinking about her.
Z: LORA JUST ABOUT EXPLODED BECAUSE I’M NOT IN THE MOOD FOR WEDDING STUFF. DID SHE AND DERRICK GET IN A FIGHT OR SOMETHING?
I smile, imagining Ziah blowing her sister off, and Lora taking it to mean it’s the end of the world. Girls in love are a little psycho. Or at least the ones getting married are.
“You’re smiling. Why are you smiling? Who is that?” Paul fires questions at me.
“I’m not smiling.” Only I sort of am, but not because it’s Ziah. It’s psycho Lora.
After I pull into a parking spot, I text back.
D: HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW? WE’RE DOING TUXES. COME DOWN. I’M SURE SHE’LL BE HERE.
After I give her the address, I toss my phone down and get out of the car. Derrick is already inside when we get there. Pacing back and forth.
“You’re late! What the hell, man.”
“Ten minutes. Chill out. I had to pick Paul up. Geez, you’re worse then Lora.”
Derrick groans and plops down into a chair. The guy who works here is behind the counter, trying to look like he’s not paying attention to us. Derrick ruffles his hair, obviously freaking out about something.
“Trouble in paradise?”
When he groans again, I start tripping out a little bit. I’m just giving him a hard time. The wedding is a mistake, but I also don’t want anything to hurt my brother.
“What’s up? You cool?” I sit down next to him. Paul takes the seat on the other side.
“Lora’s all stressed out. She’s not big on any of the places we picked out. She really wants this Vista place, but it’s all booked. I don’t see what the big deal is. I told her it didn’t really matter where we did it, which was obviously the wrong thing to say. She took off and isn’t answering her phone.” He starts popping his knuckles, and I’m a little lost here.
“So you guys had a little argument. What’s the big deal? That happens all the time, right?”
I mean, that should be normal. People fight and as long as it’s not huge fights you get over it and move on.
“You don’t get it. I don’t want to be like Mom and Dad. The fighting and the taking off.”
Huh? “What are you talking about? I don’t remember Mom and Dad having any big fights, and what you’re explaining sounds more like a disagreement than anything.”
Derrick looks over at me. “You don’t remember, D. I told you things weren’t what you think with Mom and Dad.”
And that’s about enough of that. I’m definitely not in the mood to go there. Especially with Paul and the sewing guy here.
I push to my feet. “I’m sure it’s fine. Let’s get this over with.”
***
“The ties are pink.”
I can’t believe my brother expects me to wear a pink tie. I don’t ever remember him liking pink before. The suits are okay. They’re kind of thin, which to me is weird since the wedding is in March. They’re a khaki color, called summer suits or something like that.
“Mauve.” Derrick stands in front of a mirror while the guy measures him. He’s got a huge smile on his face like he’s not setting us up in suits for the wrong season and pink ties.
“Then mauve is pink because the tie is definitely pink.”
“It’s mauve, you dumbass. It’s not pink.”
“Paul, tell him the tie is pink. I’m not wearing this.”
Paul laughs. “I’m staying out of this one.”
“Derrick.” I walk over to him. “Seriously. Talk to her. You can’t want pink ties.”
The bell over the door rings. I look over to see Ziah walking toward us. I sort of suck in a breath and then realize that’s stupid.
“You guys aren’t wearing pink ties are you?” She laughs.
“Ha! I told you, man. My brother says they’re mauve.” I roll my eyes.
“Isn’t mauve pink?”
I seriously consider asking her to marry me. Okay, not really. I’m not crazy, but I am pretty damn thankful.
“You guys are both being ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with mauve ties,” Derrick tries to defend himself.
Obviously he’s not going to do anything about this, so I plead my case to Ziah instead. “Can you talk to your sister about this?”
“No!” Derrick looks at Ziah. “Just let it go. She’s having a hard time. You know how she gets. She worries about everything. I don’t want to stress her out anymore.”
I take a step back. I don’t know what it is about what he just said, but things really start to si
nk in. How much he cares about this girl is finally getting slammed into my brain. He loves her so much he just wants to make things easy on her—even if it means wearing a pink tie or being freaked out over a little argument. When it comes down to it, he just wants to do what he can to take care of his girl.
I remember how cool it felt when I helped Ziah. Not that she’s my girl or ever will be, but it still made me feel like something more because I somehow helped her. I suddenly don’t want to make things harder on him. Not at this moment, at least.
“Nah, it’s cool. I’m man enough to wear a pink tie. I’ll rock it.”
Derrick catches my eye over Ziah’s, and I see him relax. He nods at me like he’s saying thanks, and I nod back.
When the bell over the door rings a second time, I somehow know it’s Lora.
She walks over to Derrick all slowly like she’s unsure, but then he gives her a half-smile. Hers is triple the size of his, and she gives him a huge hug. They’re whispering to each other. The suit guy huffs away, obviously pissed we’re screwing up his schedule, and Paul, Hanes, and I just kind of stand and watch.
For the first time, I think I might actually be happy for him. Well, even though he’s making a huge mistake.
Fourteen
~ Ziah ~
Lora picked me up from school, but I’ve been sort of zoned out on our drive into downtown. Apparently her body has gone too long without Voodoo Donuts, so we’re in the colossally long line, halfway down the block waiting for some. I’ve seen it worse.
The picture of Derrick being able to make her feel better in about two seconds at the tailor shop still hits me. He’s not a bad guy, it’s just still weird.
“You okay?” she asks. “Anything different with Alyssa or James?”
“I finally told them both I wasn’t ready to talk, and I’d tell them when I was.”
“Been silent since then?” she asks.
“Yeah.” But it didn’t give me the relief I’d been hoping for. The whole blow-up happened a month ago, and maybe I should be ready to talk to them. But I’m just not.
“You’re not keeping anything from me? No new developments or anything?”
I think about how part of me wishes they were still trying to talk to me and how another part of me wishes Dylan would want to do some non-talking with me, but I keep it to myself.
“You’re so much like I used to be.” Lora takes a long drink from her coffee.
“Why do I feel like you don’t mean it as a compliment?”
“Sometimes it’s okay to break rules, Ziah. Relax a little.” She bumps her shoulder to mine.
I stare at my shoes on the sidewalk. “Lora. I was with the safest guy in the universe, and—”
“No, you weren’t.”
“What?”
“You weren’t, or what happened wouldn’t have happened. He seemed like the safest guy, but he wasn’t. Not really. First impressions and outward appearances can be deceiving.” She raises a brow, and I’m jealous again of my sister’s ability to wear hats. The off-white knitted cap sits just right, making her look… well, like she could be marrying a Gibson boy.
I have no idea how to look this way.
“I guess.”
“It’s just sometimes good to be impulsive.”
I roll my eyes. “Just because you found your true love in a game of truth or dare gone horribly awry doesn’t mean it’ll work for the rest of us. On top of which, being single is probably best, since I’m about to go to college and then to med school.”
“Maybe.” She shrugs. “I just don’t want you to miss out on something really great because you’re afraid to take chances, that’s all.”
“Noted.” I suck down another swallow of coffee.
“Yeah. I have to get this location figured out, Ziah. If we don’t get out invites soon, we might have to push the wedding back.” She sighs and looks down at her boots.
I want to tell her she could have a smaller wedding, and that would solve the problem. But my guess is she doesn’t want to hear that, and I’m not going to ruin our afternoon because I can’t keep my mouth shut. We shuffle a few steps closer to the door.
“Has Dylan mentioned their mom?” Lora asks.
“No, why?” I figured that’s one of those things you don’t ask about, it just comes up. Dylan’s pretty tight-lipped about the reality of his family.
“Just curious, that’s all.” Only now Lora looks distracted, and I wonder if there’s something she’s keeping from me.
***
“So, I gotta ask. What’s your problem with their wedding?” I sit next to Dylan as Derrick and Lora wander through what feels like location one million. We’re against the wall in a ballroom in some random hotel near the river.
The moment I mentioned how cool Lora looked in her hat, she took it as my little sister wants me to dress her. I’m in a hat, a dress coat, and a pair of Lora’s boots. I’m not sure if it’s me, but at least I fit in with the other three a little better. Well, and her boots are broken in and soft, so it’s manageable.
Dylan sighs. “It would take a long time to explain, but part of it has to do with stuff he always told me when I was growing up.”
“Ditto with Lora. School first. Career second. Boys third. Always.” Seeing her with Derrick still feels…off.
“And how’s that one working out for ya?” Dylan smirks.
“I thought good. You know, James and I were friends for a long time, so it felt safe.” I know Dylan was trying to tease, but I’m feeling too low for that. A couple weeks in school without my two best friends has dragged me down.
“Are you hurt? I mean, is it more that you’re angry, or more that you’re hurt?” He shifts his weight. “With James, I mean.”
“Are you trying to use your awesome powers to make me feel better again and need to know what approach to take?”
“Um…not exactly. Just. Curious.” He’s being so serious. Looking so…honestly concerned. Not like the cocky guy who helped me in part because of me and also probably in part to serve his ego.
Am I hurt? Is it awful to be without James? I think what’s more awful is realizing how wholly humiliating the whole thing was.
“I’ve known James for a long time. We were friends before we kissed, and I wanted more of that. I deserved better than being lied to. So, more pissed than hurt.”
Wow. More angry than hurt. Knowing how I feel actually makes me feel a bit better.
“Okay. That’s good, right?” he asks.
“I guess.”
“Have you talked to them much?”
“Only to get the basics.” To satisfy my morbid curiosity.
“So, you and James… Everything seemed perfect, huh?” His voice sounds almost strained. Like’s suddenly nervous or something.
“That’s the thing. It was before your party.” My face flushes red as I think about why it was different after, and I scoot away so our arms no longer touch. “I barely saw him over the summer, and then it was…” I can’t believe I’m admitting out loud that we might have broken up even if it weren’t for him and Alyssa. Maybe. “…not perfect. Like he was pushing too hard, and I guess it wasn’t as easy to be around him as it used to be.”
“But you and Alyssa have been close for a long time?”
My gut twists. “Yeah.”
Dylan’s not looking at me, just staring across the empty space. He pulls his knees up and rests his elbows there. “Might want to at least give her a chance to explain.”
“And then I’ll have to relive it all over again. I’m just not ready.” I pick at my jeans for a minute.
Dylan’s hand rubs across my back. “I get it. But don’t wait too long, you know? It’s like there’s long enough to make ‘em sweat a little, which is good. But too long, and it might be a lot harder to fix.”
“So, you want me to fix things with James?” I’m totally fishing here, and my heart pounds as I wait for his answer. His hand is still on my back, and we’re still sitting c
lose.
“Hell, no.” He laughs taking his arm back. “Let him suffer. But your girl? Talk. Bros before ho—Well, you know what I mean. Masta Dylan knows his shit, remember?”
“Yeah. Right.” I chuckle. “That’ll just be my mantra. Masta Dylan knows his shit.” I try to mimic his low voice but totally fail, which makes him laugh, which makes me laugh.
“What the hell?” Derrick raises his arms as he steps in the vast room and sees Dylan and I in a pile on the floor. Laughing.
“Sorry. I gave her sugar.” Lora pecks him on the cheek. “It makes her think she’s funny.”
***
I send Alyssa a text after school and wait on the porch to see if she’ll come. I miss my friend, no matter what happened between us. I’m not sure that I want to forgive James yet. I guess I don’t know if I’m ready to forgive her yet either, but I am ready to talk. And then I almost laugh out loud when I remember I’m here because of something Dylan thought I should do to feel better.
Like half of his personality points to jerk, and the other half points to something sort of remarkable and unexpected.
Alyssa pulls up to my house and has tears in her eyes before she hits the bottom step.
“Hey.” I lean back in my chair, even though that’s kind of the last thing I feel like I should be doing. It’s like I want to project that I’m okay, even though I’m anything but now that she’s here. It’s like my insides are shaking apart. So weird. It’s not supposed to be like this with Alyssa.
She sits in the chair next to me. “I’m so sorry, Ziah. There’s like, no excuse in the world. I mean, anything I tell you will sound like I’m trying not to take responsibility, and all I want is for us to be friends again.”
I nod, determined to keep calm. “It’s like I lost both of you at once.”
“I promise I will never, ever let a guy come between us again.” She wipes a tear. “I never liked him. I was just wasted, and he was there.”