He’s not as tall as me, and the only reason he rivals me in weight is because he’s a little thick in the middle. Mild, like he sits at his desk all day and drinks too much at night.
-Sorry? “Now he is completely turned towards me and takes aggressive steps in my direction. His smooth shaven cheeks are puffy and red, contrasting with the black and white of his tuxedo.
“I said I’m not leaving.” But you have to do it.
From beyond him, Sloane looks at me with wide eyes. I expected to find her crying, but there is not a single tear on her immaculately made-up face.
Sterling lunges at me, arms outstretched and ready to push. Like a fucking child having a tantrum. But I press my palm to his damp forehead and straighten his arm before he can lay a finger on me. He gives me a few light blows on my arms, but he’s too soft to know what he’s doing. Too low. Too weak.
“Raise your voice at that woman one more time and I’ll drop you like a stone, Woodcock.”
-Fuck you! I’d like to see you try it.
He’s really losing his cool now, but I grab him by his silk bow tie and direct him toward the door, wishing-and this isn’t the first time-I could slap him with my blocker. But I have long tamed this temper, and I will not let someone as insignificant as Sterling Woodcock bring it out again.
With my left hand, I yank the door open and, with all my might, push him out of the room, waiting a moment to watch him stumble backwards before he succumbs to gravity and hits the burgundy hallway carpet. It lands on a bunch of limbs and I commit the image to memory because it’s too good to forget.
I close the door with key.
Within moments I hear punches and curses and completely empty death threats, but I ignore them because my attention is on Sloane, who has her elbows resting on her knees, her face bent down, between her hands, her shoulders trembling.
I cross the room with confident steps towards the dresser where she is sitting, ready to comfort her when I hear her gasp.
At first I think it’s a sob. But then I realize it’s a laugh.
Sloane laughs uncontrollably, and I don’t know what to do but stand here and watch her body pour into the tight, starched satin of her dress. Her hair slicked back in a painful braid. The thin glass straps of her sandals, which I can see digging into her already scarred feet.
Uncomfortable from head to toe.
And now me too because I just kicked out her fiance on their wedding day and he can’t stop laughing.
-Are you OK? I ask like an idiot, clenching and releasing my fingers at my sides.
“I’ve never been better,” he snorts and laughs even harder. You threw him out there like a rag doll! She collapses onto his lap, head between her knees, gasping for air as she runs her pale pink manicured nails across the carpeted floor for a moment before sitting up straight.
“He tricked you,” I tell him.
-Yeah. There is a video and everything. Someone sent it to me anonymously. Just in time. He delicately wipes the tears from the corners of his eyes.
-Why are you laughing?
He laughs again and shrugs before giving me a sharp look, but I recognize the sadness in his eyes. I’ve seen that look in the mirror.
-What else can be done?
“You’re not going to marry him.” I cover my mouth with one hand and look around the ornate room. Crown moldings. The exaggerated chandeliers. I feel frantic. I repeat the only thing that comes to mind. Over my dead body, you’re going to marry him.
He swallows and I watch the thin column of his throat work.
“I’m sorry I said what I said the other night. His voice is softer, his body language less hysterical and more devastated. Outside the restaurant.
I gesture for him to leave.
-No problem.
-No. She shakes her head and looks at her feet. It is not. I was venting. And after all the times you’ve supported me, you didn’t deserve it. I know you were just looking out for me. “You were being…” He looks at me now, with a pinch at the corners of his eyes. You were being a good friend.
I bite the inside of my cheek, hating the helpless expression on his face.
Hating all this for her.
I hate that word.
Friend.
We’ve been friends for so long…
… I startle when a small blonde head pokes out the window behind me.
-Are you OK?
It’s Beau’s little cousin, the same one who was looking at me through the window this morning. His eyes are wide and the worried expression on his face touches my heart. Almost reminds me of Jenny. I’m not well, but I don’t tell him.
-Yeah. I’m fine.
I turn to look at the gloomy ranch. I love sitting on this rooftop in the dark quiet night. It’s quiet. Just me and my demons.
“Do you want company?”
I sigh and hang my head. I don’t want company. But I don’t tell him that either. He crawls out before I can answer him, but I tell him anyway : “Sure. ”
The roof is still dark, but it is no longer quiet. A girl I barely know monologues about her life and I just listen. He talks so much that even my demons can’t compete.
Tonight and every summer night to come, he sits with me. I don’t invite her. It’s just there.
And sitting with her is peaceful…
I clear my throat to clear away the emotion clogging it.
“If I were to be a good friend to you right now, what would I do?”
Sloane sighs, relief painting every inch of her body. As if I had just asked him the one question he desperately needed someone to ask him.
Jas. Get me out of here. I want to go to the ranch.
I stare at her for a while, hands shoved in my pockets, thinking I would do whatever she asked me to do at that moment.
And then I extend my hand to him with a firm nod.
“Come on, Sunny.
4
Sloane
Jasper: Is there an exit on the other side of the hall?
Cade: There’s an emergency exit.
Rhett: Fuckeeeeeeeeer. Are you bailing out our cousin from her shitty, uptight wedding?
Jasper: Yeah. Make up a distraction and text me when it’s safe for us to run.
Rhett: Can I set off the fire alarm?
Cade: I’ll think of something.
Rhett: I’ve always wanted to pull the fire alarm.
Cade: You did. I had to wait for your dumb ass after school while you finished your punishment for weeks.
Jasper: Guys?
Cade: Willa has a plan. That could be worse. But when I say Go… Go. You have to run.