Dizzy (4 page)

Derrick suddenly looks like he wants to murder me.

“Nothing against her. Geez, simmer down Fight Club. I’m just saying, she’s not my type.”

I’m pretty sure this girl must have some magic power to seduce unsuspecting men, and the last thing I want is to get myself in the trap.

“Just come on, Lil D. I don’t want to be late. Dad already is.”

I try and put on my happy face for him. Until Dad gets here it will be on me to play nice. “Okay. I’m starving.”

We walk inside, and I’m still a little annoyed. But the place is pretty cool. A little more earthy-hippie than I go for, but black trim, good music, and funky printed wallpaper. Not bad.

Derrick introduces me to Lora’s Mom and Dad. Her dad looks pretty kicked-back, but her mom is running around like she’s hopped up on crack. She’s definitely the over-achiever of the group.

I find a corner and watch my brother smile and talk with his new family. He hasn’t let go of Lora’s hand once, and I wonder why--if he’s afraid she’ll be gone if he lets go or afraid he won’t be able to take care of her. It’s so strange to see Derrick looking all… domestic. It reminds me of after Mom was gone. How he stepped up to the plate and took care of me.

I shake my head. Definitely not going there.

Finally Dad arrives. He sees me in the corner and gives me a sad smile. And I get it. He understands how I feel and probably feels the same way.

He’s sucked up in the tornado of Lora’s family. Dad plays it perfectly, always smiling and talking the way a good lawyer can. I find myself wondering about the sister. Maybe she’s in the kitchen making hot chocolate.

A few minutes later they’re having us sit down at a long table for dinner. There’s an empty spot next to me, which I assume is for—holy shit! The sister is standing in the doorway. Green eyes, white T-shirt. No. No, no, no, no. Lora’s sister is Hanes?

Her gaze catches mine, and she stumbles a little, recognition lighting her face. Yeah, she remembers me, too. I’m not sure why I like that.

Then it’s The Look, and I can’t help but smile. This night might end up being sort of fun. I can’t wait to mess with her.

Six

~ Ziah ~

I can’t believe this is happening. What is hot party guy doing here?

This is not what I need today. It’s still hard to breathe after getting text number one million from both James and Alyssa.

James. Alyssa. Their names have been spinning through my head all afternoon. I don’t have the details, and I don’t want them. The only text I read from Alyssa says I’M SORRY.

Things between James and I haven’t been perfect, but they haven’t been bad either. My stomach turns over again. I’m still numb. In shock. Someone clears her throat, and I’m brought back to the present—the part of me that’s still functioning anyway.

My eyes go from Derrick, attached to Lora’s side, to party guy, back to Derrick. Same blue eyes. Same almost-black hair. Same smug smirk. Oh. No. She is NOT marrying into that family. Half the table is staring at me. Right. I should probably move.

Lora gives me her best exasperated, wide-eyed, clench-jawed look that says I’d better find a way to get to my seat. But the only chair is sandwiched between Dad and hot party guy.

Not good.

My phone beeps with another text, which almost pushes me into another round of tears. I’m not crying at the table so I pull in a deep breath, keep my eyes focused, and take the seat next to Dad. No reason for this guy to think I even recognize him.

“Hey, Dad.” Dad smells like hospital, as always, and his dark blond hair is in serious need of a cut. I lean into him, bumping our shoulders together, and try to pretend everything’s perfect.

“Hey, sweetie.” Dad pecks a kiss on my temple.

“Ziah.” Lora’s smile is too bright, and her eyebrows are seriously threatening to take over her hairline.

“Yes?” I smile back, really glossing it on. Can’t she see it’s more than the stupid wedding I’m upset over? She’s my sister. She should see this isn’t all about her.

“This is Derrick’s brother Dylan.”

“Derrick and Dylan. Cute.” But then my eyes meet Derrick’s dad’s, and I feel like crap for making a comment about their names.

His hair’s as dark as theirs, and he looks like the cover of some over-priced menswear magazine. These guys seriously won the genetics lottery.

I take a long drink from my champagne before turning to look at Dylan. Then I say, “Hey. I’m Ziah.” He doesn’t need a hand. Who knows what he’d spill on me this time.

“Cool name.” He smirks.

Is he seriously making fun of my name? Never mind that I made fun of his and his brother’s names—seriously, theirs match. Mine is awesome. Anyway, I don’t have to like him. His brother is messing up my sister’s plan.

“Yeah. Thanks.” I pick up my champagne again. Not that I’m a big drinker, because I’m not. But I think the occasion is extreme. I’m also a bit surprised Mom’s risking giving me a glass. I’m sure some inspector someone wouldn’t be happy about it, but right now, I’m not about to question.

Lora kicks me under the table, and I almost call her on it. But the death glare I’m getting says I’d better keep my mouth shut. I down the rest of my champagne. Dad raises an eyebrow, but I pretend not to see.

Okay, so I might have sort of freaked out on Lora before the party. And her fiancé might have heard part of it because they were on the phone, and I might have stayed in the kitchen way longer than I needed to (seeing as I can barely make toast) just to avoid the dinner. But she didn’t have to torture me by putting me next to hot party guy, who smells freaking delicious and has the most awesome eyes I’ve ever… Crap. I need to stop.

My phone buzzes with another text. Alyssa this time. I delete it without reading and pull a shaky breath in to keep from crying.

It’s pretty egotistical for Lora to think I was upset over her anyway. I lost James. And the worst part about it is that he should have been the safest guy ever. Him and Alyssa? What have they done? Is it still going on? Was it a one-time thing? A many-times thing? How far did they go? That thought makes me feel like someone just dropped me out of a plane.

My phone buzzes. Another text. I’m almost afraid to check, but it’s Lora. Amazingly, she seems like the safest choice right now.

LORA: BEHAVE

ME: R U KIDDING ME? I KNOW HIS BRO. DO U KNOW WHO UR MARRYING?

Lora scowls as she reads my note, and then she starts frantically texting. Mom and Dad are probably telling some embarrassing story because there’s chuckling around the table, but Lora and I have business.

L: HOW ON EARTH DO U KNOW DYLAN?

ME: WE MET AT A…

Crap. Now what?

STUDENT FUNCTION.

I hit send.

She snorts from across the table. Yeah, I didn’t think she’d buy it. We don’t go to the same school.

Dylan sounds like he’s holding in a chuckle. I glance his way to see him and his brother give each other the look that Lora and I usually exchange when something’s going on.
             

“Ziah?” Mom leans forward. Her in a chair at her own restaurant is a bit of a miracle.

“Yes?” I lean forward, and Dad nearly tips his chair back trying to get out of the way. Guess there’s sort of a mood around the table.

Now I’m getting the glare of death from Mom.

Perfect. Does everyone think I’m so immature that I’m overreacting this badly to a wedding? I mean, I’m not for it, and I think they’re making a huge mistake, but seriously.

I slump down in my chair and make a point of shoving my phone into my pocket so Lora can see. Neither of them asks why my day’s sucking. At the same time, opening my mouth to say that James at some point hooked up with Alyssa… or is maybe still hooking up with Alyssa…

I wish I had more champagne.

Dylan leans toward me, and I breathe in like an idiot. “Having fun?”

He so knows Lora and I were texting. I don’t make eye contact, just lean back. Anger is better than hurt.

“Where’s your armrest?”

“Armrest?”

“The one decorated like…nevermind.” He knows who I am. I could see it across the table before I sat down.

He stops. He’s probably counting back girls to remember who on Earth he was with.

“Have you been thinking about me, Hanes?” He chuckles.

“You wish.” Hanes? I open my mouth to ask as my fingers twitch, as I wonder what the chances are of my getting a refill on my champagne glass.

“Maybe.” He’s smiling like this is all some big joke.

It’s not a joke. I don’t want to think about him, and I don’t want him to want me to think about him. I also don’t want Lora to get married. And I don’t want Alyssa to be with James. The thought of it digs at my chest. And this hot guy is just messing with me for fun.
             

Wait. I turn to face him. “What did you call me?”

“What?”

Ha. I’ve thrown him.

“What did you call me?” I ask again.

He glances up at his brother, who’s nuzzling Lora’s neck again. Gag.

Maybe Alyssa and James did that. Maybe they hated that I was in the middle of what they wanted. I swear my stomach is turning inside out. I can always eat. Always. But I have zero appetite tonight.

Dylan stares at his plate for a sec, looking almost… sad? Mad? I do not want to feel bad for this guy. He’s on the enemy side. I don’t know what’s going on, and I need air. My chair scoots back so fast, I almost tip over. Mom’s eyes are on me.

“Ladies’ room,” I spit out as I almost trip over myself getting around the table. What’s my problem? It’s just Lora and some hot guy, and James and Alyssa. And just… Hanes. What does that mean?

If hot party-guy’s brother is ready to settle down, what does that say about the guy who was supposed to be solid and steady, and who apparently hooked up or something with Alyssa? He has things he needs to apologize for, and she’s my best friend! Tears start pushing at my eyes, but I don’t want to cry. I actually wore mascara.

I lean over the sink and stare at myself in the mirror. Okay. I have to pull it together.

“Grow up, Ziah,” Lora’s voice echoes in the small space.

I spin to face her. How doesn’t she get I’m upset about way more than her stupid wedding? I open my mouth to tell her about James, but I can’t do it. She’s been with me all afternoon and hasn’t asked once about what has me down.

Instead I jump to offense. “I’ve met Dylan. You do NOT want to be part of that family. Is it for the money? Because—”

“I’m stopping myself from slapping you right now.” Lora yells. “I’m in love, Ziah. Deal with it and get your ass back to the table please. It’s weird.”

And with that she turns and walks out. I leap out to follow her, so it’ll look more like we just had a little girl talk and less like my sister’s pissed. We both find our smiles before making it back to the table, and our food’s there.

Something to do. Too bad I’m not sure if I can eat, because Mom’s restaurant rocks. All comfort food with a gourmet twist. Zila’s – Half me (Ziah) and half my sister (Lora). I’m a little too proud that my part of the name comes first. But now that I have my meal, the mac and cheese with bacon just looks like lumps, and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to swallow it down.

“So. We have one more small announcement.” Lora smiles, but Derrick has this really odd, nervous look on his face.

“I knew it! You’re pregnant, aren’t you!” The words fly out of my mouth before I have a chance to stop them.

Dylan tenses next to me. Dad chokes. Dylan’s dad coughs. Mom throws me another knock-it-off look around the front of Dad.

“God. Ziah. No.” Lora rolls her eyes. “Drop it with that already, would you?”

Right. I may have brought it up this afternoon while buried under a stack of bridal magazines.

“We’re taking winter semester off to plan the wedding and spend some time with our families!”

Derrick touches her cheek again. Both Mom and Dad stiffen, and I sit back because I won’t need to say anything now. The voices around the table reach an odd level of tense excitement I plan on tuning out. Mom and Dad might be relaxed about a lot of things, but graduating from college is not optional. Not if you want to be on speaking terms with them.

I close my eyes and wonder what on earth went wrong with James and me. How could he have wanted more from me, when something was happening with him and Alyssa? I want to talk to her so badly, but I can’t. She’s one of the guilty parties.

Finally the voices at the table are animated enough that I open my eyes. Dylan’s just sitting back like I am and letting it happen. Huh. Maybe he’s not into this whole wedding thing either. Oh. Of course. One girl for the rest of his brother’s life. Dylan probably can’t imagine that—it would probably be like going without air for someone like him.

Dad’s talking. Mom’s talking. Dylan’s dad is talking, and Derrick and Lora look like they’re being pounced on. Ha. That’ll teach them.

“Wait. What?” Dylan’s leaning so far forward he’s about to lose his chair. “Did I just hear what I think I heard?”

Oh. Crap. Maybe I should have been paying attention.

“I know Ziah’s in.” Lora’s smile is way too forced, and her green eyes are on mine. “We plan on jumping in again tomorrow over her favorite muffins.”

I’m sure she’s trying to give me some clue by stressing favorite muffins, but I’m not in the frame of mind to figure it out.

“I’m sorry, what?” In what? What am I supposed to be in? Dylan looks equal parts pissed and disbelieving.

“Helping plan the wedding.” I swear her smile stretches even farther—something I didn’t think was possible until a minute ago.

I choke, which turns into a cough, which turns into a giggle. And then into one of those giggle fits there’s no way I’m getting out of. I know I let loose a couple of snorts, and the more everyone looks, the harder I laugh. It’s just so absurd. I’ll be about as helpful as a twelve-year-old boy. And my emotions are so mixed up, my body has no idea how to react anymore.

The thought of spending any more time looking at another overly floofed wedding dress makes me want to puke—especially because I feel like I sort of lost my friend and my boyfriend in one text.

“I’ll be okay,” I say, as I wave my hand in front of my face trying to calm down, but my voice comes out all whiny because I can’t stop laughing.

Me. Plan a wedding. Right. Math I can do. Dissecting pigs for biology I can do. Wedding? I don’t thread needles. I can’t even make mac and cheese, and no one would ever ask me for my handwriting on a sign at school. I don’t do dresses, and I don’t understand weddings.

Then Dad’s hand touches me as he rubs my back up and down, and I finally start to calm down. The whole table staring at my red face sobers me further.

“Please,” Lora mouths at me across the table.

I sit up and pull in a few breaths. “Yea. I’m in.” I give her a look that says she SO owes me later, but I’m still taking odd breaths to keep my hysterics in check.

“Umm, I’m not,” Dylan pipes up. “What do you mean, help plan a wedding? Can’t you pay someone for that? First you spring this on me, and then you expect me to jump onboard and be a designated wedding planner? You can pick your own flowers.”