Her Perfect 10

by Brianna Cash

  Eli drops us off safe and sound in our parents’ homes and tells us he’ll see us tomorrow at the start of the wedding festivities. He’s in the wedding? Maybe I’ll get paired with him for that walk down the aisle. That wouldn’t be awful.

  Rob, Alena’s groom, isn’t from here. They met through an online dating site, and Rob traveled an hour each way to date her. No offense, I love Alena like the best friend she is, but driving an hour each way for a simple date? I don’t think that’s worth it. Rob did, though. They’ve been together for two years and are tying the knot in a couple short months, sometime before Thanksgiving.

  I’ve already asked, and was approved, for the time off. There’s already a smile on my face as I picture Sarah’s reaction to that news.

  The shower is being held at the local country club. Roxy barges into my mother’s humble little abode Saturday afternoon, and we spend the early afternoon getting ready. We doll each other up and pretend to be people we’re not. Rich people, who care about appearances and what other people think of them.

  Ok, I pretend. Roxy is one of those rich people. I do my best to forget I’m the only one who has trouble affording life’s little luxuries, for instance, at least one Starbucks specialty drink per day.

  Before we’re even ushered through the door at the event, Olivia, Alena’s sister and the maid of honor, hands us masks that look like they should be in a Mardi Gras parade. They’re both different and cover the top half of our faces in a wild show of colors. After slipping them on and looking at each other, Roxy and I switch, so our masks match our glittery cocktail dresses.

  We look at each other again and laugh. We look ridiculous.

  Everyone else does, too, though.

  As part of the bridal party, my attendance today is mandatory. As the most obnoxious person in the wedding party, it’s also expected that I won’t behave. While Alena is gushing over each person who came and doing her best to spend the same amount of time with each group of guests, I corner her groom and try to make this event a little more…interesting.

  Alena’s mask is a very inadequate virginal white mask. Rob’s is a formal devilish black. But neither of them are wearing a mask now. Cheaters.

  “Rob. How much of this shower is for you?”

  His eyes dart around the room. We’re not close. Alena lives four hours away from the place I lay my head most nights. Rob doesn’t live quite that far away, and after the wedding, Alena will move into the house they’re buying together. Right now, though, I have absolutely no reason to visit him. And when I demand some girl time with my best friend that doesn’t live in my zip code, I want her to come alone. While Rob and I have met at various events, we’ve never had any one on one time.

  His gaze finally settles on mine when he realizes no one is going to save him and he’ll have to communicate with me all on his own. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, every aspect of today screams Alena. The cupcakes with the bride or groom in icing. The tiny personalized bottles of Vodka, her favorite liquor. The charming prizes with Lavender soap and pink nail polish and white roses… Her favorite scent, color and flower. What part of this day is for you?”

  He shrugs his shoulders, smiling. “I get to see her happy.”

  Oh my God. Barf. He’s too much. Perfect for her, but ugh.

  “What’s the point of the masks?”

  This time, he shrugs. “She loves masquerades? I don’t understand the mask thing, but she was adamant.”

  “It’s from a movie.” I roll my eyes, holding back a grin at one of my favorite memories from middle school. “A Cinderella Story. The one with Hilary Duff?” When he shakes his head, I brush off the past and focus on the present. “Anyway. Let’s do something to put these stuffy masks to use.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s not just Alena’s day. It’s your day, too. What can we do where wearing a mask and being almost completely anonymous is an advantage? Use your imagination and make it fun.”

  My heels click and my dress sways around my hips as I walk away.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have left it up him. Maybe I should’ve given him some ideas. But maybe I have to see what my best friend’s fiancé can come up with. Is he someone I can respect? Or is he just another person that’ll make me roll my eyes every time I have to see him?

  As the hour passes, Rob carefully makes his way around the room, talking to different people for a minute at a time. He hits me up last, leaving me curiously intrigued.

  “The bridal party is staying behind when this breaks up.”

  My brow arches. This could be promising. “And what are we doing that will make this your special day?”

  He smiles. “I already have everything I need. The after-party is for my brother.”

  “Who’s your brother?”

  He doesn’t answer. He’s pulling a Sadie and already walking away.

  For the mysterious after party, I’m the first one through the door. The smaller room is lit up with thousands of small, white lights strung around the ceiling. I spin on my toes in my fancy dress, feeling almost as pretty as my surroundings. Roxy clears her throat, drawing attention to the small crowd following her in while I lean against the wall, pretending I wasn’t acting like a four-year-old in a princess dress at the most extravagant tea-party she could ever imagine.

  After a brief, whispered conversation, the bride and groom-to-be stand in the middle of the room, holding hands. They’re sweet. So full of the happy thought of love everlasting it almost makes me sick. But after gazing into each other’s eyes for way too long and drinking happily from each other’s smiles, they finally turn their attention to everyone else.

  I didn’t think there would be this many people. Three bridesmaids, plus the maid of honor, and a matching number of groomsmen. That makes eight of us, plus my best friend and her fiancé. We form a circle around the mushy couple, waiting for them to make whatever announcement they’re taking their sweet time making.

  They point to different people, never mentioning names, which keeps things somewhat interesting, and positioning us in a different order. We’re still in that circle, but with girls and guys sitting in alternating chairs. I can pick out Eli, who’s directly across from me, because I’m intimately familiar with his body. Sure, it was a long time ago, but I know his mannerisms. I know the way he moves. I know how he tilts his head when he thinks something is stupid, or brilliant, or just plain fun. Rob and Alena aren’t included in our circle. Other than Eli, Roxy, and Olivia, I have no idea who anyone is.

  Never one to enjoy anticipation or suspense, I turn to the guy on my left. “What’s the plan here?”

  “Got me.” He shrugs, his mask a swirl of brown and red to my gold and green.

  “How do you know Rob?”

  “Best man.” He holds his hand out for me to shake. “Rob and I grew up together. How do you know Alena?”

  “Grew up together.” I release his hand, dropping mine to my side. I’m about to turn to my right to ask that guy the same question when Alena claps and calls for our attention.

  “Ok, guys,” she starts, her smile so big I wonder if her face will crack. “We’re going to play a little game called suck and blow!”

  Groaning and rolling my eyes, I secretly plan a way to torture Rob for transporting us back to seventh grade. What adult plays this game? And with people they don’t know? And can’t even really see?

  This is ridiculous.

  Roxy, who’s positioned between me and Eli, shakes her head.

  This game is totally juvenile. It’s better than sitting in a room full of parental figures gushing over Alena’s wedding, though.

  In middle school, we deliberately failed, so we got to kiss someone. I don’t know either guy sitting beside me, and I do enough sucking face on my own terms. I don’t need to do it here, with someone I didn’t chose, and with an audience.

  Next, please!

  Rob and Alena do a little presentation on how it’s supp
osed to work. She pulls one card from a deck and uses a suction motion to keep it covering her mouth. She passes it to Rob without using her hands, essentially blowing it to his mouth once they’re close enough. First, they pass the card successfully. Then, to show everyone how it works—if, for some reason, there’s someone here who’s never played this in a basement when they were twelve—they accidentally drop the card. After it flutters to the floor, they look at each other with shocked expressions before locking lips for way too long.

  Rob’s not nearly as into the demonstration as Alena is. He’s playing along, though. How whipped does a guy need to be to do that for his significant other? I don’t know that I’d ever be able to get on board with something like that. Then again, this was probably his idea. The idea I coerced him into having because I was too bored with the real party.

  The card goes around the circle twice before the happy couple decides this isn’t working the way they’d planned, and more cards get added to the mix. Why isn’t it working? Because we all know very well how to suck and blow, perhaps?

  At least neither guy I’m next to smells or looks funny.

  “This is kind of boring,” Roxy complains in a fake whisper.

  “What’s next on the agenda?” Best Man guy asks.

  I would comment, but I’m too busy sucking…

  Ah, fuck it.

  Letting the card fall, I grab the face of the guy sitting to my right and pull him in for a five-second tongue kiss. Everyone laughs. It’s a shame the guy was so surprised he didn’t realize what was happening until a couple seconds in.

  At least now, it’s not so…uneventful.

  Deciding to really get the party started, I accidentally drop the card again on its way to the best man, letting out a gasp of surprise and a quiet oops, before pulling him in as well. Why not, right? Alena mentioned earlier that everyone in the bridal party is single. May as well make out with everyone.

  “You did that on purpose,” Best Man tells me as soon as we’re card-free.

  “Did you figure that out on your own, Sherlock?”

  He laughs. “You’re a good kisser.”

  “I know.”

  He laughs again, waiting for another chance to kiss me. Great. I turned this into a make-out orgy. Sighing as I follow the rules and kiss both guys again, I telepathically yell at Rob and/or Alena to get things moving to the next game they have in store for us.

  I’m much better at telepathy than my coworker.

  Rob calls us to attention, saying we should move on to seven minutes in heaven.

  Now I know I’m back in middle school.

  Rob said this was for his brother? How old is his brother? And is there a reason his brother would want to be transported back in time?

  We sit around a large, circular table, using a spinning app on Alena’s phone.

  Why does Alena have that app on her phone? Ooh… Maybe she and Rob play kinky sex games. I’ll have to interrogate her about her sex life later. And pray it doesn’t have anything to do with chipmunks or furries.

  Roxy and Eli go first. We play on while they’re busy for their seven minutes. The girl I don’t know gets Best Man and they disappear. There’s only half of us left. As soon as Roxy and Eli come back out, the guy I already made out with during suck and blow gets a turn with Roxy, and then the last guy I don’t know spins the app and it lands on me.

  Yay. Make out contestant number three, coming right up.

  He’s tall, with black hair, startlingly light blue eyes, and full lips that look soft and oh-so kissable.

  Maybe this game wasn’t such a terrible idea.

  Besides, if I get Eli on board, I can make out with all of Rob’s groomsmen in one day.

  That’ll be a personal record for me.

  Maybe I’ll have to ask Eli if he’s up for helping me with that if I don’t get banished to a dark room with him for seven minutes before this party is over.

  Owen

  I’ve never played these games before, but they’re kind of childish. I like to have a say in who I kiss. Not that the two girls I kissed during that first game were bad kissers, but I don’t even know their names. Maybe Rob and Alena should’ve had everyone go around and introduce themselves first. That would’ve made me a little more comfortable.

  This whole thing was probably Rob’s idea. He’s always making fun of me, talking about how inexperienced I am. Just because I don’t sleep with anyone who gives me a second glance doesn’t mean I have no idea what I’m doing.

  Alena locks us in some kind of housekeeping closet, yelling through the door. “Seven minutes, starting now!”

  The girl I followed in spins around to find me watching her. She steps closer, swallowing the distance between us in two quick strides. She’s almost pressed against me, she’s so close. I step back, creating some space, reaching for her hand, ready to introduce myself. But she grabs my waist instead, tipping her head back and pushing up on her toes to press her lips to mine.

  Her lips are soft and sure, melting instantly beneath mine as I kiss her back, and I quickly forget that she was making out with two other guys before me, a short time ago.

  She pulls away, her eyes wide as she stares at me. There’s something familiar about them, the color, or the shape, or the incredibly long eyelashes that are framing a shade of green that matches not only her mask, but also her dress. There’s something about those eyes I can’t quite put my finger on.

  I reach for her again. My hands slide around her hips and pull her closer, right up against me. She’s short, but with her heels, she’s just tall enough. Her eyes flutter closed as her head leans back, her lips parted in a silent invitation that my body is very intent on accepting, with or without my brain’s permission.

  I’ve never been this close to anyone without knowing their name.

  The thin silk of her dress caresses my fingers as I lower my face to hers. The warm cavern of her mouth teases me as her lips move under mine. Her body leans on me more fully—a silent protest as I pull away. I’m only changing the angle, though. I don’t hesitate to come back in for more.

  And more.

  And more…

  Her lips part farther, wordlessly asking me to deepen the kiss. But I’m content to keep kissing her like this, with open mouths and soft lips merging together repeatedly. Her hands, which are still around my waist, pull my shirt out of the way, and then her fingertips are on my skin, trailing confidently over my back, right along the edge of my pants.

  She smells like honeysuckle, like early summer nights spent catching fireflies in the backyard. There’s something else mixed in with that sweet memory. Something that’s probably all hers, whoever she is. Her eyes fly open when I take a second to breathe her in. I want to keep the memory of her scent forever, so I can relive this moment later, when I’m lying in my bed remembering how good she feels. When I need some fascinating moment to focus on. Something good. Something happy. Something...perfect.

  “Kiss me,” she whispers, her breath warm on my cheek.

  “Pretty sure we were kissing,” I whisper right back. No one can hear us. We’re totally alone, but it feels like we’re under some kind of spell, and we’ll break it if we’re too loud.

  “No, really kiss me. Like you mean it.”

  “I did mean it.” My voice rumbles in my chest as I try to keep quiet. I don’t know anything about this girl except she’s good friends with my future sister-in-law. But I also don’t know if I could stop myself from kissing her again if my life depended on it.

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  There’s a frown on those delicious lips, and all I want to do is change it into a smile. I clear my throat and keep whispering. “Kiss you like I know you?”

  She gives a quick nod. “Kiss me like I’m the person you’ve been waiting for your entire life.”

  Her eyes move back and forth between mine, her hands still on my skin under my shirt, making me want her in ways I never would’ve imagined possible at this poi
nt. She flexes her fingers on my sides before pushing both my shirt and her hands up, up, up.

  It gets caught on my damn mask, but I reach up and untangle it. She then drapes my shirt over a shelf beside us. The mask stays on my face.

  Her eyes are on mine as her fingers trail down my chest and stomach, lightly brushing over the dusting of hair that will lead her directly to something she has no right to discover. Not like this. Not in a closet. Not when I know so little about her. Not when she knows nothing about me.

  When I inhale, the pressure of her touch lingering on the button of my slacks has my heartbeat pounding in my ears. She tilts her head to the side.

  She’s daring me.

  Kiss her the way she wants, or she’s going to do her best to get me out of the rest of my clothes.

  I want to kiss her again. The simple kiss we shared was by far the best I’ve ever had.

  But I also want to see how far she’s willing to take this.

  Her gaze dips down, to where her hand is about to undo my pants, and then back at my face.

  Which direction am I going to take us?

  Cupping her cheek with one hand, I raise her face. With my other hand on her hip, I make sure she stays as close to me as is physically possible. And then I kiss her like she’s the person I’ve been waiting my entire life for.

  Chapter 6

  Assignment #4

  Write the blurb of your autobiography.

  ≤ 250 words

  To: oc736@solc.edu, profmereeder@solc.edu

  From: sd275@solc.edu

  Subject: Assignment #4 Write the blurb of your autobiography. 250 words or less!!!

  SD had one mission in life.

  She received a boring, black journal as a birthday gift. She used this little black book to help her achieve that mission. It seemed simple enough, but she soon realized it wasn’t going to be as easy to accomplish as she originally thought.