Fighting for My Best Friend (Fated #4) (3 page)

“Who is it?”

“It’s Lucy,” I said into the door, practicing my best sunny
smile.

“Finally,” Mrs. Briggs said, opening the door.

“Sorry,” I said, shifting my bag to my opposite hand. “Am I
late?”

“Not at all,” Claire said, crossing the room to give me a hug.
“We have loads of time.”

“I wouldn’t say loads,” her Mom said.

“It’s nice to see you guys,” I said, relieved to be around a few
members of the Briggs family that I hadn’t disappointed yet.

“You, too,” Claire said. “I can’t wait to catch up.”

I smiled, noticing her Mom peeking out the door.

“Hey Mom?” Claire said.

“Yes, dear?” she asked, turning back to look in our direction.

“Do you think you could go make sure all the bridesmaids are
here and that Dave is still in the building?”

“Don’t you need me here?” she asked.

Claire’s face said no but her mouth said, “I’ll be fine for a
few minutes.”

“Alright.”

I relaxed as soon as she left the room. Mrs. Briggs had been
slightly awkward around me ever since she found out I knew about her husband’s
affair. It’s not like I’d ever whispered a word of it to anyone, but I was used
to her keeping me at arm’s reach.

“Thank you so much for offering to do my hair,” Claire said,
giving me a big hug that was as amorous as it could be without smudging her
make up.

I looked over her shoulder at the hotel suite. Everything was
gold and white. I didn’t know what the venue looked like, but I imagined her
dressing room was nicer than most people’s reception halls.

“It’s my pleasure,” I said.

“My Mom wanted me to do something over the top,” she said,
waving her hands around. “But I just want something understated, ya know?”

“I’ll do my best.”

She took a seat in a chair that was already set up in front of
the dressing table. “Is this an okay spot?”

“It’s perfect,” I said, bending over to unzip my bag.

“I love your dress by the way,” she said. “Yellow is definitely
your color.”

“That’s nice of you to say.” I plugged in the curling iron and
laid the hairspray, some brushes, and enough bobby pins to style an army of
brides on top of the dresser.

“I’m so glad you agreed to be Aiden’s date. I know he’s a total
pain in the ass, but he’s nothing compared to his last few girlfriends.”

I forced a smile.

“Did he drive you here this morning?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I said, releasing her hair from its plastic clip.

“Good, so he’s here. Though I almost wish he wasn’t. You haven’t
heard his speech, have you?”

“No.”

“Cause he swore up and down that he was going to mortify me.”

“I’m sure he won’t.”

“I wouldn’t bet against him. I mean, he’s been warning me since
the day I told him I was getting married.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” I said, pulling her hair back.

“Maybe if he gets really out of hand, I can give you a sign and
you can chuck your drink over him or something.”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s a great idea. That wouldn’t call
attention to his speech at all.”

“You’re right. He’d probably just go after both of us then,” she
said. “At least try and make sure he doesn’t drink too much beforehand.”

“What would you suggest I do?” I asked her through the mirror.
“Restrain him?”

“You’re right. I’m not going to worry about it.” She took a deep
breath and splashed invisible water on herself.

“Good. Just enjoy yourself.”

“I know. God. Sorry I’m blabbing so much. I tend to talk a lot
when I’m nervous.”

“Just as long as you don’t interrupt the priest before he’s done
his bit.”

“Right,” she said. “Please tell me you’re used to women talking
your ear off while you do their hair.”

“You wouldn’t be the first to overshare,” I said, reaching for
my brush.

“You know what the scariest thing is?” she asked. “It’s times
like these when I realize I’m my mother and that I’m actually not chill at
all.”

I laughed.

“Like I seriously need to quiet my mind, but all I can think
about is whether or not Aiden and Dave and my Dad are standing around drinking
right now trying to decide if they can squeeze in a few holes on the golf
course before the ceremony.”

“I promise they won’t do that.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because Aiden sucks at golf, and he would never agree to
anything that would make him look like an ass in front of Dave and your Dad,
especially today.”

“Good point.”

“Plus, even if they did do it, they won’t get very far in a golf
cart.”

“True.”

“Why don’t you tell me how you met Dave?” I asked.

Claire smiled as if she was grateful to have her thoughts
directed. “Well, he was a TA in one of my econ classes in college.”

“What year?”

“Sophomore year. He was a Junior though.”

“So you guys have known each other forever.”

“A few years,” she said with a smile.

“What was the first thing you noticed about him?” I asked.

“Well, the first thing was that his fly was down.”

My eyes went wide.

“But the second thing was that he had this really geeky man
bag.”

“Oh god.”

“And I remember staring at it the whole class just thinking, how
could someone so adorable have such a hideous bag?”

I shook my head.

“So then what?” I asked, walking over to the dresser and facing
her while I slid a bunch of bobby pins along the top of my dress so I wouldn’t
have to hold them in my mouth.

“I can hold those for you if you want.”

“I’ll tell you if I need any more,” I said, stepping behind her
again. “Please continue.”

“Right. So basically, I decided I had to talk to him.”

“What did you say? Your fly is down?”

She laughed. “No, he figured it out half way through class and
corrected the situation.”

“Oh good.”

“But I was desperate for an excuse to talk to him.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And I wanted to say something really clever, but all that came
out was
that is a really hideous bag
.”

“What?!”

“I know. I was kicking myself, but he totally saved the day.”

“How?”

“He said,
I’m so glad you pointed that out, and I couldn’t
agree more
.” Her eyes sparkled as she spoke. “Of course, then I didn’t know
what to say but he continued, asking me if I could keep a secret.”

“And you said yes?”

“Of course. That’s when he told me that the bag was just a prop for
a study he was doing about whether women were attracted to all bags, even
hideous ones.”

I laughed.

“And I didn’t know what to think then cause he really caught me
off guard and, well, you’ve met Dave, right?”

“Briefly,” I said. “A few times.”

“So you know he has this painfully dry sense of humor and
sometimes it’s really hard to tell if he’s joking?”

“Yeah. So what did you say?”

“I can’t remember. Something forgettable. But then he asked if I
would be willing to let him interview me about the topic over coffee?”

“No he didn’t.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“So you said yes, obviously.”

“I sure did,” she said, letting out a heavy sigh. “And you know
what?”

“What?”

“There was no study at all. It was just a line.”

“You’re joking!” I said, feigning shock.

“I know.” She shook her head. “And the worst part of all is that
I was so charmed by him, I didn’t even care about his hideous murse anymore.”

I laughed. “Wow. Who knew Dave was so smooth?”

“He’s not. He’s not at all. I just- I don’t know- he makes me
laugh, ya know?”

“Yeah.”

“And I feel like as long as he makes me laugh, I can forgive him
for anything.”

“Even hideous bags?”

“Even hideous bags,” she said. “Don’t tell him I said that, of
course. I want him to think my love is far more conditional and complicated
than that.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

Her eyes sprang into little crescents. “I know.”

“Can I ask how you knew he was the guy you wanted to marry?”

“Besides the fact that he was the first to ask?”

“Yeah.”

“I think I knew the first time we danced,” she said. “We just
fit, ya know? Don’t get me wrong. Dave is not a good dancer, but dancing with
him… it just felt right, like everyone else who’d ever been in my personal
space was intruding somehow. But when I danced with him, it felt comfortable, like
he was the only one who could be that close to me without totally cramping my
style. I don’t know if that makes sense, but I’m not sure how else to explain
it.”

“That’s good enough,” I said. That would be good enough for
anybody.

It didn’t seem real until I saw her walking down the aisle with
my Dad.

And she looked beautiful, more beautiful than she ever had
before. She was actually glowing. And the whole time she was walking down the
aisle, she never took her eyes off Dave.

And he was glowing, too.

I couldn’t believe it. The guy was usually so serious, so
sarcastic, but he actually looked so happy you would’ve thought my sister was a
goddamn Christmas tree.

And I’d never seen her look so girly. Sure, when she was little
she and her friends would dress up like princesses and have tea parties and all
that crap. But as she walked towards Dave in her strapless, floor length
wedding dress, she actually looked like a real princess.

That’s when I realized that her main function in this world
wasn’t just to be my awesome sister anymore. She was someone’s bride. Dave’s.
And he was going to build his whole life around her. He was going to make her
his purpose and his partner in everything.

And I have to admit, I respected the guy for pulling the
trigger. I admired the fact that he was so confident in his love that he didn’t
even want to see what else was out there, that he was prepared to piss all
around her in front of his family and friends. Or have a wedding. Whatever,
same thing.

I envied his clarity of thought, his confidence in the one arena
I felt like I wasn’t equipped to navigate.

When Claire finally took her place across from Dave, the whole
church disappeared for a second. Seeing my sister that happy made my chest
swell so big I thought I might burst. Not that I understood it. I thought Dave
was a pretty normal guy. More intelligent than most maybe, but clueless about
cars and grilling.

Of course, none of that mattered once I saw my sister beaming like
that. I knew she loved him. She’d said as much to me in a dozen different ways
over the years so I knew this day was coming. But the way she looked then said
it in all the ways her words couldn’t.

And she seemed just as calm, just as excited, and just as
resolute as he did, and her love for him was radiating from every pore. It was
weird to see her like that.

After all, she was my sister. We didn’t have any secrets. I
could remember every pimple she tore the house up over, every guy that ever
hurt her feelings, everything she ever achieved that meant something to her.

But suddenly she was in a realm I couldn’t relate to. For the
first time I realized that everything was about to change. She was leaving the
family and starting her own. From now on it was Dave who was going to live
through the drama of her every dramatic triumph.

And don’t get me wrong, I was more than happy to let him take
that load off the family’s hands, but I would miss that intimacy Claire and I
had. I knew things would never be the same. Even if she never admitted that I
wasn’t the number one guy in her life anymore, that didn’t change the fact that
I would know Dave came first. Which was as it should be.

And when she started having kids I could fucking forget it. I’d
be knocked down peg by peg until I wasn’t even in her top three priorities
anymore.

But when I looked at her looking at him, I wasn’t afraid of that
future. I was just happy for her, happier than I ever thought I could be for
somebody.

And then something made me turn around and look at Lucy.

She was looking at Claire, too, just like everyone else in the
church.

But she averted her gaze towards me a moment later, smiling at
me through eyes that were welling with tears.

I smiled back at her before turning around, comforted by the
fact that whatever I saw in Claire’s eyes, Lucy must’ve been able to see, too.

Not that I was surprised. Lucy had known Claire almost as long
as she’d known me. When we were younger, Claire had almost been a role model
for her. Or at least, she was one of the only cool, older girls that
acknowledged her in school.

I can remember how excited Lucy used to get when she’d be over
on a night that Claire had a high school dance. She would peek through the
front windows at our house and watch all the couples taking pictures, pointing
out the dresses she liked and talking smack about the rest of them.

It was the only time I ever found her painfully dull. I used to
count down the minutes to when my sister and her friends would finally leave
for the dance so I could have my regular Lucy back, so we could return to the
serious work of fort building or video gaming or hot lava leaping or whatever
was grabbing us that day.

Remembering that made me realize how much it probably meant to
Lucy that she got to do Claire’s hair for her wedding. And I have to say she
did a good job as far as I could tell.

Claire’s hair looked pretty without being distracting. I figured
that was probably the point.

While the priest reminded us why we were gathered here today in
case someone had a really short term memory or was supposed to be at someone
else’s wedding, I let my eyes drift towards my parents.

I smiled when I saw that my Dad had his hand on my Mom’s knee,
and I was happy for them. They liked Dave. He presented himself well, didn’t
lose his temper, never drank too much (at least in front of them), and had a
good job and a strong work ethic. As far as they were concerned, they could’ve
done a lot worse.

When Claire was eighteen she was an absolute terror. One night
she told my Mom she was going to elope with her boyfriend on his motorcycle. He
broke up with her the next day, but she got a big fake tattoo of his name on
her lower back just to give my Mom a heart attack. That’s when I realized she
never even cared about the guy and was mostly dating him to fuck with my
parent’s blood pressure.

Whether or not I was the only one that thought it was funny that
she’d ultimately married someone who both our parents approved of was anybody’s
guess, but I suppose she got that rebelliousness out of her system. Plus, she’d
always been a seat belt freak so a biker boy was never going to do it for her
in the long run.

When it came time to do the vows, it turned out they’d written their
own. Dave made a few bad jokes that only Claire laughed at which, fortunately,
caused other people to laugh at how well suited they were. Then he got really
serious and made some farfetched geology reference that I think was supposed to
be another way of saying he would love her forever.

Claire couldn’t even speak when it came to her turn, and I made
a note to myself to ask her what the hell she was warbling at the time. Not
that it mattered.

What mattered was that when the priest said “you may now kiss
the bride,” neither of them had changed their minds. So Dave laid one on her. I
assume it was a tasteful, crowd pleaser without tongue, but I’ll never know
cause I looked away. I didn’t need to see that shit-wedding day or no wedding day.

And when the bells started chiming and they skipped down the
aisle hand in hand, I was kind of jealous.

Not cause I wished I was getting married or anything. I was a
long way off that.

But suddenly it was clear that they were a team, and that from then
on, they were going to do whatever the fuck they wanted.