Beach Wedding

by Cruise, Bella

  They were good times. I think back with a smile, remembering how invincible I felt walking the hallways with Luke’s arm around my shoulder and Jules cracking some joke on my other side. They saved me, really, made me feel like I had a place in the world when I was still dealing with my parents’ deaths.

  The bell sounds, and suddenly the halls are flooded with students, jostling and gossiping. They look terrifyingly young and way cooler than I ever was, so I keep walking, out towards the back field.

  I can tell I’m close when I hear Marcie’s voice echoing, and the clatter of instruments.

  “Can we go again?” she’s yelling through a loudspeaker as I reach the field. “Only this time, try and look like you can actually play!”

  The assembled marching band glares back. They look worn out, and if I know Marcie, they’ve been here practicing since dawn. Luckily, Clyde grabs the loudspeaker from her hand.

  “You just gotta feel the beat, right, boys? Act like you’re walking out on stage in Madison Square Garden, and the whole bloody stadium’s screaming your name. Yeah? Let’s rock!”

  He jumps down, and takes a spot at the head of the procession. “One, two, one two three four!”

  The band starts playing: two dozen high schoolers stuttering through his big rock hit on trumpets and drums, while Clyde enthusiastically leads them marching across the field.

  “They told me never to work with kids or animals,” Marcie sighs.

  “It’s… a spectacle, all right. But that’s what you want, isn’t it?”

  She nods, looking tired. “Another couple of weeks, then I’m going to lie on a beach somewhere with my phone turned off and a cute bartender bringing me drinks. Big drinks, with tiny umbrellas.”

  “There you go,” I say, encouraging. “Dream big. The end’s in sight.”

  “It’ll be the end for all of us unless this wedding goes off without a hitch. The network took a look at the rough cut of our episodes so far. They love them.”

  Marcie’s expression is grim. I don’t understand. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

  “High expectations have a way of biting you in the ass,” she says. “And these two are unpredictable. For all I know, we’ll wake up tomorrow and find they’ve eloped to Bermuda, and then we can all kiss our careers goodbye.”

  “You’ve got this,” I reassure her. “We’re almost at the finish line, and everything’s coming together. Just hang in there.”

  Marcie looks over. “Isn’t that my line?”

  I laugh. “I can play cheerleader as well as the next girl. I was one, you know. Right out there on that field. ‘Give me a B! Give me an E!—”

  “I get the picture.” Marcie cuts me off, then notices something on the field. “Are you kidding me?” she bellows, charging down onto the turf. “Hey! You in the back! Yeah, I see you. Since when do we film T-shirts with curse words on the front!”

  I retreat up to the bleachers, a safe distance from the madness. I pull out my binder and begin going through table cloth samples until a voice just behind me makes me jump.

  “Penny for them.”

  I yelp, turning to find Luke. He laughs, “Easy there.”

  “Sorry, you just got me by surprise.” I try and get my pulse rate under control. “What are you doing out here? I mean, I would have figured you’d stay as far away from this circus as possible,” I add, in case he thinks I’m not happy to see him.

  Because I am. Even with everything so confusing and unresolved, I can’t help the way I feel a hundred times better just looking at his easy smile and bright blue eyes.

  “Had to run some invoices by Marcie,” he holds up the papers. “I didn’t bet on, well, whatever they’re doing down there,”

  He furrows his brow as he looks downfield. Marcie is making some poor sophomore strip to get rid of the offending shirt, while the rest of the band keeps marching, trying to keep pace behind Clyde.

  “Don’t ask,” I smile.

  “Good plan.” Luke sounds cheerful. He looks around and shakes his head. “Man, this takes me back.”

  “I’ve been walking around, feeling like I’m in a time warp,” I agree. “You know, they still have those photos up on the trophy wall inside?”

  Luke chuckles. “I guess that’s what happens when your team sucks so bad they haven’t won in years.”

  “Hey!” I protest, nudging him lightly. “Where’s your sense of school spirit?”

  “It’s public knowledge around here. We can’t win a game to save our lives. Doesn’t stop everyone turning out on a Friday night to cheer them on.”

  He looks down, and his face changes. “You think the Wall is still there?”

  “No way,” I laugh, “They would have painted over that thing the minute we left.”

  Luke gives me a mischievous grin. “Only one was to find out.”

  I follow him down the stairs and around to behind the bleachers, back to the place we would use as our unofficial make out spot. Us and every other teenage couple looking for a few moments privacy away from the unsuspecting teachers, that is. We would sneak away here during free periods and lunch, to kiss, talk, and sneak cheap cigarettes when we were trying to look cool.

  “There it is,” Luke laughs, pointing at the wall near the back. Graffiti is scribbled all over it, hearts and initials, and private messages so thick I can hardly make out the individual pieces. “Man, look at this thing.”

  “Ten years of couples,” I scan the writing, looking for my own name.

  Luke crouches down. “There we are,” he points. I bend down, squinting to make out the familiar letters scratched into the brick.

  GA + LP 4eva.

  “I can’t believe it’s still here,” I laugh.

  “I guess some things don’t fade so easy.”

  Luke straightens up, and I see the past written right there in his eyes.

  My heart twists. I have to tell him.

  “Listen—” I start, at the same time as he says,

  “I was thinking—”

  We both stop. “You go,” I say.

  “No, you.”

  I take a deep breath. “I was just thinking, it would be good for us to talk. For real, I mean. Someplace my aunts won’t come interrupting, and Marcie isn’t chasing samples or wedding stuff.”

  Luke nods. “I was going to say the same thing. How about dinner, tomorrow night?”

  “I… that sounds good.” My heart leaps.

  “Great,” he nods, giving me that smile. “It’s a date.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “A date, or a date-date?” Jules demands the next day. “Because semantics matter, especially with the kind of history you’ve got going on.”

  “I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that. Just, you know, a date to meet at a specified time and place. It’s just dinner, to talk.”

  “Mmmhmmm,” Jules gives me a look, setting out mixing bowls and measuring jugs. “So, why are you blushing bright red right now?”

  “Because it’s hot in here,” I tell her. “Can you turn the ovens down?”

  She laughs. “Not unless you want raw cake batter.”

  “Somehow, I don’t think it’ll make a difference. Unless Pixie’s hiding a talent in the kitchen, today’s pretty much going to be a big waste of cake.”

  I’m at the bakery, helping Jules set up ahead of today’s shoot. The team are due any minute now, but I wanted some extra time to talk about Luke’s invitation – and what it might mean.

  Jules hops up on a counter and swings her legs. “Well, the way I look at it, there are three scenarios for tonight.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “One, you guys go get dinner, have awkward conversation about your past, and then fall into bed together to avoid the issue.”

  I laugh. “Option two?”

  “You go get dinner, strike up a deep and meaningful connection, and then fall into bed together with a mad passion.”

  “I’m noticing a theme.” I shake my head. “Do I
even want to know my third choice?”

  Jules grins. “You skip dinner altogether and just head straight for dessert. And I’m not talking about ice cream,” she winks.

  “You’re incorrigible.”

  “But you love me anyway. Seriously, though, have you thought about what you’re going to do?”

  “Only every waking moment,” I sigh. “I just don’t know whether this connection I feel is about reliving the past, or the start of something new.”

  Jules pauses. “Do you want it to be?” she asks, climbing down.

  “I don’t know! Seriously, just when I think I’ve got it figured out, he smiles at me, or gives me that sexy look, and I feel like I’m sixteen all over again, on cloud nine because he smiled at me in the hall.”

  “That boy is like your kryptonite.” Jules smiles. “I remember that first time he asked you out. You practically had a panic attack you were so excited.”

  “It was a big deal!” I protest.

  “Duh.” She sticks her tongue out at me. “He was like, ohmygod, the cutest boy in the whole school.”

  I stick my tongue out right back at her. “Says the girl who fished Carter Perkin’s old soda bottle out the trash, just to have something he touched.”

  “Don’t remind me!” Jules groans. “In my defense, I was thirteen at the time.”

  “Whatever happened to him?” I ask, idly picking up one of the delicious cupcakes she’s got plated on every counter.

  “Hey! Those are for the show,” she slaps my hand away. “And Carter? I think he moved to Tampa and opened a nail salon. I guess I never would have stood a chance with him anyway.”

  I sigh. “Do you think I’m crazy, tempting fate like this with Luke? When I’m around him, it makes me feel like I did back then. Like anything is possible, and love really is within my reach.”

  “Not crazy,” Jules reassures me. “A little reckless, sure. But it’s your heart in the end. You can risk it any way you please.”

  But what about him? The last thing I want is to put Luke through any more pain.

  “It’s all his fault,” I say, only half-joking. “If he hadn’t been so damn good, it would have been easy to get over him.”

  Jules hoots. “Girl! You are not telling me he’s still the best you’ve ever had? Come on. Everyone knows teenage boys need a map and a compass to get to the right destination.”

  I give a grin. “Just call Luke a regular Boy Scout. No directions required.”

  She whistles. “OK, now I’m beginning to see the appeal. So, why not try for a repeat performance?” she suggests. “Guys reach their sexual peak at eighteen, so maybe it was all downhill from there. A mediocre roll in the hay, and you’ll be able to shake the memory once and for all.”

  I think of Luke’s new muscular physique, and those strong hands. My stomach flips over. “Somehow, I doubt it.”

  Luckily, I’m saved from visions of Luke’s skills in the bedroom by the arrival of Marcie and the whole production team. I quickly make the introductions with Jules, and the crew starts setting up cameras and sound equipment all over the kitchen and main shop floor.

  “We’ll need to do some rearranging,” Marcie casts her eagle eye around the shop. “That sign, for starters—”

  “Sorry,” Jules says sweetly. “The Rock-n-Roll cake sign needs to be in every shot. A condition of filming. Didn’t Ginny mention?”

  Marcie looks at me. “Sorry, must have forgotten to tell you,” I cover quickly. Jules didn’t say anything about the sign, but I can see how she wants the publicity. “But this place is perfect, right?” I remind her. “Look at all the small-town charm! You can work around it.”

  “I also need the happy couple to taste a couple of my best selling cakes on camera,” Jules adds. “And say how delicious they are.”

  “Impossible, we won’t have time for that.” Marcie folds her arms.

  “Then make time.” Jules meets her stare head-on. I’ve seen grown men crumble and retreat with their tail between their legs from a Marcie Miller showdown, but she hasn’t met Jules. My friend smiles and plays her trump card. “You know, I haven’t actually signed the filming release. So, if you want, you can just pack up and find someplace else. It’s no hassle for me.”

  Marcie keeps staring, then gives a begrudging nod. “Fine. They’ll rave about the cakes, and you’ll get your sign.”

  “Deal.” Jules reaches out to shake her hand. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

  “You too.”

  I swear I see some admiration in Marcie’s eyes. Then she looks around. “Where the hell are they? Clyde? Pixie?”

  Clyde saunters in. Today he’s dressed in another pair of tight leather pants, with a racy Rolling Stones T-shirt I just know Marcie’s going to veto. “Calm down, love. Your superstar is right here.” He throws his arms out.

  She glares, then drags him outside by the arm. “Wardrobe!”

  Jules smirks. “You weren’t kidding about the circus,” she says, looking around at the mess the team are already making.

  “I did warn you! But, it’ll be worth it. They’re actually very sweet, once they get down to it.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.” Jules catches sight of her reflection in one of the mirrors. “Damn, I need to get ready for my close up. Be right back!”

  She heads upstairs, so I drift outside. There are two massive trailers parked, blocking the street, and already some curious tourists are rubbernecking with their cell phones out, wanting to catch a glimpse of whatever the big deal is all about.

  I realize I left my binder in my car, so I cross the street to go grab it. That’s when I see Theo and Pixie parked in one of the rental cars, talking together.

  Close together.

  I pause. They’re in the front seats, and although it looks totally innocent to any casual passerby, my Spidey sense starts tingling. Pixie is giggling, looking radiant and happy, while Theo is teasing her, gazing in total adoration.

  Oh no. No freaking way.

  I stride over and yank Pixie’s door open. “There you are!” I exclaim. “We were just going to send out a search party.”

  “Sorry.” Pixie blinks up at me. “I wanted to stay in the AC as long as possible. It gets so hot down here.”

  “That’s Florida,” I agree, helping her out of the car. I take her hand and steer her towards the shop. “Are you ready to taste your perfect wedding cake?”

  “I guess?” Pixie sounds upbeat.

  “You’ll just love it. Imagine, you and Clyde at your wedding reception, cutting into a three-foot cake with a tiny Pixie figurine on top! We could even have her make a special doggie cake for Buster.”

  “Really? That would be so cool!”

  I nudge Pixie inside. Theo catches up. “Everything good, boss?” he asks. I study his face, looking for any traces of guilt.

  Nothing. Hmmm.

  “For now,” I tell him. “But stick close, I’ll need you with me today.”

  Inside, they get the couple dressed and made up, and down to business. I have to hand it to Marcie, it’s the set up for a really cute episode. First, Jules has them taste a bunch of different wedding cake options – and say, loudly, how amazing they all are – then they pick one, and she teaches them how to bake it. Pixie makes some noises about healthy eating to start, but the minute Jules hands her a slice of double-chocolate bourbon, it’s game over. I swear, Pixie’s eyes roll right back in her head, and she moans loud enough to make every man in the room adjust their pants.

  “Theo?” I whisper, beckoning him over. There’s no way I want him getting ideas from this display. “Can you go grab me a soda from down the block?”

  “There are sodas here,” he whispers, staring at Pixie with stars in his eyes.

  “Yes, but I want a different one. And I’m signing your paychecks. So…”

  He finally drags his eyes away. “Fine, I’ll be right back.”

  “Great!”

  Back in front of the cameras, Pixie and
Clyde are gamely up to their ears in flour and butter, as Jules takes them through the process.

  “First, you need to cream the butter,” she tells them, turning on her cherry red KitchenAid mixer. “Just get it like and fluffy, really whipped.”

  “Whip it good,” Clyde quips, thrusting his hips in time to the machine noise.

  “That’s right!” Jules cheers. “And Pixie, do you want to add the flour? No, not—”

  Pixie dumps the whole bowl in. It flies back up in a cloud of powdered white, covering the both of them.

  “In one go.” Jules finishes.

  “And cut!”

  Pixie lets out a wail, and hair and makeup rush in to clean them up, but Marcie is grinning ear to ear. “That’s a trailer moment, right there.” She whirls around and spies one of her assistants with their cell phone out. “Did you get a picture?” she demands. “Post it to Pixie’s Instagram. Hashtag, wedding fun.”

  “Hashtag, rocknroll cakes,” Jules pipes up. “And tag me too, thanks!”

  Theo arrives back with my soda. “What happened?”

  “Just a little spill. Nothing to worry about.”

  “Is Pixie OK?”

  “Fine.” I try to turn him around. “We should go talk about centerpieces—”

  But before I can stop him, he rushes over to check on Pixie.

  “My hair is ruined!” she wails. “I look like I’m going gray. And that’s so not my best color.”

  “You look great,” Theo soothes her. “Look, it comes right out. Just shake your head like Buster coming in from the ocean.” He shows her, shaking his head back and forth.

  She blinks back the tears. “You look silly.”

  “Well, so do you.”

  Pixie grins and shakes her head. Flour flies off in all directions. She starts laughing.

  “There you go!” Theo cheers. “A little brush down, and you’re good to go.”

  Marcie pauses beside me. “That assistant of yours is a godsend.”

  I keep a careful watch, not happy about how friendly they’re looking. “I know he’s spending a lot of time with Pixie…”