“Watch your tone! Remember who you’re speaking to.”
Suddenly I’m ten years old again, and she’s scolding me for getting crumbs on the couch.
The problem is that I do remember who I’m speaking to—my mother who was never around when I grew up. A woman I haven’t seen in several months now, which isn’t uncommon for us. A woman who never came to my school plays even when I played the lead or attended my college graduation where I graduated with honors.
I study my reflection in the mirror now that the fog from the hot shower has cleared, and I laugh. A humorless laugh that changes my usually friendly exterior. With my dark hair sticking out on all sides, I’m looking at a possessed version of myself in the mirror like I’m in an episode of Supernatural.
“I repeat, no way in hell am I going to that wedding to watch a piece of trash marry a fucking bastard. Besides, I have plans this weekend.” With that, I hang up and punch the mirror, shattering pieces of my reflection across the counter.
“Oh my God, yes!” Joelle jumped up and down, clapping and smiling. I’d never seen her so happy, and in that moment, I loved her even more. “I’ll marry you, Sebastian Davis.”
She didn’t wait for me to put the ring on for her, just grabbed it from the box and slid it onto her slender ring finger. She studied it while I pulled back her black hair so I could study her face. She was so beautiful, with a million stars in her eyes that matched the sparkle in the diamond ring I spent weeks picking out.
We were in the middle of the Strip with a cheering crowd surrounding us. I only noticed them when she looked up and waved her ring finger around for all the strangers to see, while I waited my turn for her attention.
After she circled around, she grabbed my face and kissed me without warning. I had my eyes open and saw that hers were too.
I send a quick text to my mom to apologize for cursing. It’s not her I’m angry at, although she hasn’t helped.
I run my bloodied hand through my hair and lean my back against the counter, thinking about all the signs I missed with Joelle.
Or worse—misunderstood.
She was wrong for me to begin with, but what she did to me toward the end? It gutted me.
And no matter how much I’ve tried to convince myself and others that I’m over it, that I’m moving forward with Kendall, and that I’m better with her, I’m starting to think that maybe I’m not.
Chapter 36
Kendall
I open my old bedroom door, and it looks the same as it did when I was thirteen. I was obsessed with Britney Spears even then; her face and lyrics decorate the walls. Only thing missing is her face from my comforter, where I went for the plain black to match the curtains.
I never redecorated when I moved back as a college dropout for that short time. I didn’t expect to live here forever, so I never made it mine. At one point, when we were all a big happy family, it felt like mine. I was included in the family instead of cast out just because I wanted to do something other than settle in this small town with a boring husband.
I wanted something different.
“God, you were such a dork with all this Britney.” Lauren huffs, looking at my room with her lip twitching. Disgusted like I told her I’m wearing torn jeans to her wedding.
“At least it wasn’t Hanson.” I smile sweetly.
Lauren wraps a trembling arm around me. “Mom and Dad are driving me crazy.”
I draw my eyebrows together, partly in shock that she didn’t have a retort or eye roll for me.
She slides away, still avoiding eye contact, but continues, “They want all this extravagance, but Rhett and I only wanted a simple ceremony and intimate reception. Somehow we’ve ended up with two hundred guests.”
I snort. “Probably worried this will be the only wedding they’ll throw, so they have to go all out.”
“Why do you always do that? Deflect and put yourself down in the process? It’s annoying.”
“And I should be more arrogant and self-obsessed like you? Is that right? I’ll do my best.”
Now Lauren rolls her eyes and crosses her arms before stomping away.
What the fuck just happened?
Nothing is ever good enough for her, apparently. Not even when I give her something to make fun of me for. Guess she likes to have original material; it doesn’t mean as much to her if I put myself down.
But that’s also why I do it, to protect myself. If I tease myself first, she won’t have as much of a chance.
The rehearsal goes swimmingly. A couple of the single groomsmen were the only ones to say more than two words to me, aside from my mother who kept telling me to walk slower and straighten my back.
Afterward, I go back to the house to change for dinner, as do Lauren and her friends. I hole up in my room, anxious to see Sebastian. He should’ve been here by now, but it’s probably for the best that he wasn’t. The rehearsal would’ve been boring for him.
Once I’m dressed in my full-length bold red jumpsuit, I pace around my room with a sinking feeling that he’s not going to make it.
I check my phone, but no texts.
I move my hair to one side and rub my hands up and down my exposed arms like it’s thirty degrees and not eighty-eight. Alabama this time a year is always a bitch, the humid air so thick it suffocates you and traps you in its clutches. It’s not as bad as mid-summer, but it’s still hot.
I decide to put my hair in a low ponytail, mostly to keep my hands busy. My makeup is already done. I even took extra time to make sure the wings on my eyeliner came out flawless. Now I part my hair down the middle, tying it back and pulling it over one shoulder.
Then my phone vibrates with an incoming text. I jump to the bed for it and almost face-plant into the wall in my vintage wedges. I found them in LA and immediately had to have them. The buckles on the straps are everything… except practical in this moment as I leap for my phone.
Sebastian: I’m running late. Meet you at the venue.
No smiley face or anything? I feel like I missed something, like I’m not in on the inside joke and soon I’ll really be face-first into the wall.
But in order to be the cool girl my subconscious still wants me to be, I don’t ask. I’ll wait until he gets here to gauge his mood. We’re always better in person, anyway. Better with body language instead of words.
Me: Sure thing <3
Chapter 37
Kendall
At the venue, my friends and family immediately disperse when I walk in the door. I’m left holding my clutch and shoulders high with tension. I’ve only been back in town once since I ridded myself of this place, and now that I’m here, I’m a stranger.
My family and Lauren’s friends are huddled around one another, laughing like they don’t spend every minute together. And I’m alone, wondering if I ever felt at home here. I grew up here, so I’d think I’d feel some connection.
But I feel nothing.
I felt nothing as I pulled into town, passing my old high school on the way. I spent four years of my life there, had my first kiss in the gym after cheerleading practice, spent hours practicing our cheers on that football field.
But it’s tainted with the bad memories as well. Just like this town.
I’ve never been inside this country club, though. Which is a relief—no memories of who I was before here. But I might as well be at Grand Central Station among zillions of people. Just like I’d go unnoticed at the busiest train station on the planet, I go unnoticed here. Slide by people I’ve known for years without so much as a nod.
An arm wraps around my waist from behind, and I immediately relax. Leaning my head against Sebastian’s warm chest, I sigh. “You’re here.”
“Sorry I’m late.” Kissing the top of my head, he turns me around and holds my arms out, drinking me in with nostrils flared. “I like. I like very much.”
Before I can do a twirl to give him a better look, he pulls me in for a greedy kiss. And as much as I like it—I haven’t seen
him in almost a week, after all—we’re at my sister’s rehearsal dinner with all my family around.
A throat clears a foot from us for an extra reminder.
“If I’m not interrupting, I’d like to get my rehearsal dinner started now.” Lauren crosses her arms over her chest, wrinkling the top part of her off-white, off-the-shoulder, A-line dress. “And jeez, Kendall, can you be any sluttier? First, the cut-out jumper showing your boobs, and now sucking this guy’s face off. Who even is he? I didn’t know you were bringing a date.”
“Sebastian Davis, at your service for face sucking, among other things.” He winks at me while extending his hand to her. His crisp baby blue button-up strains against his bicep as he does so. During the whole exchange, he holds me flush against his side with his other hand, and his warmth keeps me safe. Grounded. Makes me feel like I’m not so lonely for once among these people.
Lauren chokes but shakes his hand limply like she does when she takes the trash out, holding it far away and taking care not to get the “icky” on her. Then she turns to me. Oh great, we’re not done. “Seriously, at my bachelorette party, you couldn’t bother to dress up, and now you’ve decided showing off the goodies was a good idea at my rehearsal dinner. Rhett’s ninety-year-old grandma is here, not to mention his two nieces.”
Sebastian’s jaw flexes, and I swear his teeth might chip from how hard he’s grinding them. The warmth I previously felt instantly chills.
I place a light hand on his chest to keep him back. I can handle my sister. That’s one thing in my life I’ve had no problem with. “Speaking of Rhett’s family, shouldn’t you be over there kissing their asses by now? You’re about twenty minutes late for your brown-nosing.”
She visibly rears back, a comeback on the tip of her tongue to throw at me, but she stops and points at Sebastian. “Where do I know you from?”
“Hey, honey,” Rhett calls to Lauren from the other corner of the room.
“Ah, duty calls. Run along.” I shoo her away with my hand and she goes, albeit reluctantly. Once she’s gone, I turn to Sebastian and say, “She’s unbearable—”
Before I can finish my sentence, he’s back to sucking my face off, holding me close like one of us has been off to war and we’re finally back together again.
That’s when I notice the hint of whiskey on his tongue as it swirls with mine. I push him back slightly to put some distance between us and search his eyes. He looks sober—delectable for sure. His beard is trimmed and proper, like the rest of him. He’s even wearing black slacks and dress shoes.
“What’re you smiling about?” He rests his forehead against mine like we’re not in a room full of people, let alone a room full of my family.
“Didn’t realize I was.”
He lifts my chin up and greedily kisses me once more, almost like he’s trying to convince himself of something.
And as much as I like kissing him, as much as I’d like to find a quiet broom closet to lock ourselves in, something’s off. He’s been drinking, and he’s particularly handsy for this occasion.
“Oh my God.” Lauren rushes back to us and points again at Sebastian. Lowering her voice to a whisper-scream, she turns to me. “He’s the stripper from Vegas!”
Sebastian tenses again, not at Lauren’s words but at my silence. He watches me, waiting for an answer. An explanation. Something.
But I can’t find my voice. Even though I thought the whole way here about how I’d tell my family that I’m seeing a stripper, I have nothing. My mouth simply hangs open.
“You’ve got to be kidding.” She throws her hands up like now she’s seen it all from me. I’ve done everything possible to humiliate and disappoint her.
Only a matter of time before she runs off to tell Mom and Dad.
I brace myself for more shaming, but right now I’m mostly concerned about Sebastian. He’s even more off now, his smile forced.
And when Rhett announces the food is ready and everyone should sit, I hope Sebastian doesn’t crack.
Next to me.
At my sister’s rehearsal dinner.
On our way to find our seats next to my parents, I squeeze his hand, trying to convince myself that it’ll all be okay.
That I’m just reading him wrong.
But I can’t deny the smell of alcohol on his breath, or the way he squeezes my hand throughout dinner as though if he lets go, he’ll never get to hold it again.
Chapter 38
Sebastian
After a few beers, then whiskeys, on the flight and at the small bar close to the venue, I finally loosen up enough to avoid ruining Kendall’s bitchy sister’s dinner. And, of course, it’s at their pretentious country club. A couple guys in bow ties—grown men in bow ties, like this is the nineteenth century—asked me when I got here what my putting game looked like.
What I wanted to say in return was that I’d like putting my foot in their asses, but instead, I smiled and swallowed that down with a large gulp of Jack Daniels.
Her sister seems the type to want to show off, like tonight is the actual wedding. She and Kendall could not be more opposite. Thank fuck for that, because otherwise, I wouldn’t be here.
Although, for a minute, I think I actually saw Lauren flinch. Like it hurt her to fight with Kendall.
But I was probably seeing things, the alcohol fogging my vision.
When the dinner is finally over and we get to Kendall’s parents’ house, my head clears and my thoughts sober up as I settle onto her bed. Looking around the room, I take in all the Britney Spears posters and pictures of Kendall with her sister. They’re all pictures from when they were kids.
“What happened between you and your sister?” I ask.
“Nothing happened tonight. That’s just how she always is.” She swipes at her makeup in the bathroom, the door positioned so I can only see half of her. “Before you got here, we tried having a normal conversation, but she went all apeshit when I didn’t answer properly—whatever that means.”
I stay silent until she comes back in the room and crawls into bed next to me. “That’s not what I meant. I mean, why don’t you get along?”
“Um…” She gulps. “It happened forever ago. It’s going to sound ridiculous.”
“Try me.”
“Well, when we were in high school, I made out with her boyfriend at a party one night. And before you say anything, it’s not what you think.” She leans up on her elbow, facing me. “Jeremy was a cheating bastard, and she didn’t believe me when I told her he’d been flirting and texting half the cheerleading squad. So that night at the party, I wanted to prove to her what a piece of shit he was, and she just couldn’t handle the truth.”
I kiss her hand.
“I know it sounds so immature, and I was, back then. We were best friends before, but ever since that night, we just haven’t been the same.”
I nod in response, unsure of what to say. Unsure if this is a good reason not to be friends with someone so close to her. But I don’t want to meddle.
And the way Kendall’s lips part has me distracted.
Her red jumpsuit from tonight is still on my mind. Lauren may have hated it, but I found it sexy yet adorable. Very Kendall.
All I want right now is to taste her. To bury myself inside her in order to convince myself she’s mine. That this is all real. But I can’t. Her parents’ house is big, but not big enough to contain Kendall’s screams.
And when I try kissing her, she can’t stop giggling, thinking how ridiculous it is to have me in her childhood bedroom surrounded by Britney Spears posters. Her eyes follow us every time we move.
It’s actually pretty comical, and I’m spent from the day drinking and the extra whiskey from dinner, so I don’t mind simply holding her close to my chest, ignoring all the dark thoughts in my head.
As I look in the mirror the next morning, a few hours before the wedding, I wonder what I’m doing here. I’m not in a celebratory mood.
As I get dressed and ready to meet
Kendall at the church, where she’s getting dressed, I can’t help but think about Joelle.
It’s her wedding day too.
Her wedding day that was supposed to involve me, and now I’m nowhere near her. Months and several states separating us.
I pull up to the church with a couple of Kendall’s cousins, who ignore me the whole ride over because they’re in deep conversation about the University of Alabama’s rowing team. I would’ve joined in but don’t have anything to add to the topic, not even a sarcastic comment.
My stomach is in knots, so I can’t worry about what the team will do this year without last year’s seniors. Hands trembling, I take the steps up to the front of the church toward the floor-to-ceiling doors surrounded by columns. Reminds me more of the Parthenon than a church.
“Sebastian, this venue is perfect!” Joelle said, twirling around in the center of the reception hall with her arms spread wide—the most stress-free I’d seen her in weeks. Right outside Vegas, plenty of dancing room, and reasonable price for our budget. Since her parents weren’t involved—not approving of someone like me—we had to do it ourselves.
Joelle and me against the world.
I turned to the coordinator and shook his hand. “We’ll take it.”
“Really?” She smiled with her hands to her mouth like she was praying.
“Anything you want, baby. That’s what I promised you when I proposed.”
“I love it!” she squealed and twirled some more while I watched her, elated and determined to make her that happy for the rest of our lives.
Even at the cost of my own happiness.
Kendall’s cousin nudges me. “You going inside or just going to admire from the outside?” He chuckles at his own joke, and I try hard to refrain from rolling my eyes.
He has no idea the turmoil going on inside me as I walk inside the church, damn near shaking as I picture myself walking down the aisle ahead of my bride.
For three months while we were engaged, I imagined Joelle walking down an aisle decorated with flowers much like this one. Of being dressed in white and smiling at me like she did when we first met, full of wonder and clarity. Like we clicked.
Strip for Me Page 17
