Authors: S. Briones Lim
A few weeks later the women found themselves buried with wedding planning. Ruthie drummed her fingers on a canary yellow notepad as Celine paced across the room, deep in thought. She’d already lapped the small space about ten times and Ruthie was slightly surprised she wasn’t digging herself into a trench.
“That makes about two hundred people all together. Celine, that really isn’t that bad,” Ruthie said with feigned cheer.
“I guess,” Celine muttered. She started biting her nails and continued on her pacing rampage.
“I have a question,” Ruthie mused. “You know I love helping you with all this wedding planning stuff and everything. After all, I am the world’s best Maid of Honor.”
“Yes, you are,” Celine replied seriously.
“Forgive me for asking, but why isn’t Noah helping you out?”
“Because he’d just end up stressing me out! You know how ‘Type A’ we both are. He’d want to take control of the whole thing and it’ll just get us nowhere.”
“Point taken. Now what’s next?”
“So many, many things!” Celine exclaimed. She threw her hands in the air and finally stopped moving. Spinning on her heel, she headed towards the couch and fell backwards onto the beige cushion, which swallowed up her petite body easily. “I swear I’m going to have a panic attack after all this.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t let that happen,” Ruthie replied. She glanced at the notepad and internally winced. There really were many, many, many things to take care of. Changing the subject, Ruthie forced a smile. “You still willing to move in with me?”
Celine lifted her head tiredly. “Only if you’re still willing to let me move in!”
Ruthie giggled and scribbled some more notes. “Well, now that you mention it, maybe I should decline the offer. Ow! That hurt!”
Celine placed the throw pillow back on her lap and sighed. “Thanks again for letting me use the guest room. Just seemed pointless to renew my lease when I’m going to be breaking it, anyway.”
“Why don’t you just move in Noah? It’s not as if you won’t end up there, anyway!” Ruthie laughed.
“I told you once and I’ll tell you again! I will not move in with Noah until we’re married.”
Ruthie snorted. “Okay, Grandma.”
“Call me what you want, but don’t forget, we’re the same age.” She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck as if to make a point. “We’re both old.”
“Speak for yourself! I’m not old!”
Celine snickered and glanced towards the front door. “I think I need some fresh air. Do you wanna join me?”
Never looking up from the notepad, Ruthie shook her head. “Nah, I’ll stay in here and figure some of this stuff out.”
“You sure?”
No.
Planning a wedding sucks anus.
Ruthie plastered a fake grin on her face. “Yeah, go on, Bride! Relax. Let the Maid of Honor work her magic.”
Celine threw her a thankful smile and grabbed her jacket. Ruthie waited until she was out the door before letting out an exasperated sigh.
“Remind me to elope,” she muttered, staring at an old picture hung on the wall. She looked longingly at their younger versions and felt a nostalgic pinch in her heart. “Why couldn’t we just be kids again? Things were so much simpler back then. None of this linen covered, red velvet cake crap.”
Just then a familiar tune on the radio caught her attention. Her head automatically snapped up to the first notes of “I Will Never Leave You.”
“Shut up! Are they really playing Intensity?” She laughed.
It had been years since she listened to the boy band’s album, but she easily recalled all the lyrics and began to sing along. She and Celine used to be obsessed with the quintet—specifically the lead singer, Cash Walker. They even had posters of the band plastered all over their bedroom walls. Embarrassingly enough, a few of the posters were thinned out and raw around the lip areas. Intensity defined their teenaged years. In fact, their biggest regret was having never met them, but given how they broke up years ago it was a dream that would never happen.
“How about that old school hit?” The disc jockey interrupted towards the final bars of the song.
“Old school?” Ruthie squeaked. Recalling what Celine had said earlier she added, “Would everyone just stop calling me old already? I’m only twenty-eight, for goodness’ sake.”
“Well, Millennials, I have great news for you. Intensity is reuniting for their ten year anniversary!”
“SHUT UP!” Ruthie abruptly stood, knocking over the desk chair. She ran over to the radio, gripping it tightly in her hands.
“You heard me right! Intensity is reuniting!”
“Oh my gosh!” Ruthie was brimming with excitement. “No way!”
“Yes way!”
Ruthie threw the radio a weird glance before sprinting out of her room. “Celine! Celine! Come in here! You are not going to believe this! Intensity is reuniting! AHHHHH!!!!”
“How much did you pack?” Ruthie huffed as she pushed an oversized cardboard box across her living room floor. Her face broke into a grimace as she thought about all the scratch marks she’d find on her hardwood floor.
“How long are you staying with me again?” Ruthie teased, placing the box next to her guest room. “I’m not sure my apartment is big enough to hold all your stuff.”
“Oh please! I only packed the essentials,” Celine answered as she blotted sweat off her forehead. Despite her tiny size, she had somehow managed to lug two seventy pound suitcases up Ruthie’s narrow staircase. “I think I did a great job at packing if you ask me.”
Ruthie held up a brand new scented candle. “Really? Essentials include 800 candles? Are you getting ready to shoot an 80’s hairband music video or something?”
“Ha ha, very funny,” Celine snorted. “Can you blame a girl for wanting to smell good?”
“No, especially when she smells like ass every other day,” Ruthie laughed. She ducked when Celine threw a pillow straight at her face.
“Excuse me, ladies,” Noah’s voice boomed as he slid passed them. The two jumped out of the way, allowing Noah enough space to walk in. He had two big boxes under his arms, which he carried as if they weighed close to nothing.
“Is that all the stuff?” Celine asked, whirling around on her heel. She stared at the pile of boxes jammed into Ruthie’s living room. Maybe she did go a little bit overboard.
“Yeah, I took the other boxes you gave me and placed them in the spare room at the condo. I’ll let you unpack that yourself when you move in,” Noah answered, placing another box gently onto the couch.
“There’s more?” Ruthie screeched incredulously.
Noah laughed and playfully squeezed Celine’s arm. Celine, however, didn’t seem as amused. “Hey! I don’t have that much stuff! Like I said, I just have essentials!”
“Sure, if you think two boxes of books are essential,” Noah snorted.
“They are!” Celine argued. “Especially since they’re books I wrote.”
“I’m only teasing, love.” Noah reached out and planted a kiss on Celine’s lips. Her deep frown visibly brightened. He was definitely forgiven after that.
Ruthie shook her head and began to rub the back of her neck. “Listen, it’s been fun moving your crap in here, but I’m beat. I think I’m going to take a shower and turn in for the night.”
“Yeah, it’s getting kind of late. I better get going,” Noah replied. He planted another peck on Celine’s lips. “Call me if you need anything.”
Celine smiled and walked him to the door. “Thanks for your help, husband.”
“We’re not married yet.” He laughed and pulled her in for another hug before he added, “But I can’t wait to be.”
***
Later that evening, Celine knocked lightly on Ruthie’s bedroom door. “Hello,” she whispered. She carefully nudged Ruthie’s door open and began tip-toeing inside.
Ruthie rolled her eyes. “Hello! Why are we whispering?”
“Oh.” Celine straightened herself and began walking normally towards Ruthie’s bed. “I thought you were sleeping.”
“Is that why you barged in?” Ruthie laughed.
“I brought treats!” Celine said, defending herself. She held her hands out to reveal two steaming cups of coffee, complete with whipped cream and caramel drizzle.
Ruthie sat up, exposing her printed pajamas. Raising an eyebrow she asked, “Any reason why you’re bribing me with your special homemade lattes? It’s almost ten! I’m never going to get any sleep tonight.”
“Decaf lattes,” Celine corrected. She shrugged her shoulders. “Hey, it’s a perk of having an ex-barista as your best friend.” She walked over to Ruthie’s bed and carefully placed the two mugs on her nightstand. She plopped down on the side of the bed and shook her head in disbelief. “Unicorn pajamas? Really?”
“We’re not all as boring as you!” Ruthie exclaimed, pointing at Celine’s plaid robe. Celine shrugged and pulled a moleskin journal out of her pocket. “What’s that?” Ruthie asked curiously.
“You don’t recognize it?” Celine asked in surprise.
“Should I?”
“It’s our old Plan Book!” Celine gazed at the perplexed look on her friend’s face and shook her head. “Words cannot express how disappointed I am in you right now.”
Ruthie shrugged her shoulders, still feeling completely lost.
“You are the worst!” Celine opened the journal to the first page. “This is where we used to scribble all our diabolical plans for meeting Intensity.”
“Oh!” Ruthie burst into a fit of giggles. “I remember now! Where did you even find that?”
“Found it when I was packing up my apartment. Must have thrown it in a drawer or something when I moved out of my parents’ house.”
“Lemme see!” Ruthie reached for the journal, but Celine quickly plucked it away. “Hey! What’s the big idea?”
“I brought it here for symbolism’s sake. That’s it.”
“Symbolism?” Ruthie snorted. “You sure there isn’t alcohol in that latte?”
Celine rolled her eyes. “I’m being serious! All this wedding stuff is really getting to me.”
“Okay…what does that have to do with the Plan Book?”
“I guess I’m just really stressed out with being an adult right now, you know? Not that I’m not excited for my wedding and everything…”
“But?”
Celine rubbed her eyes. “But it’d be fun to be a kid again. At least for a little bit.” She tapped her finger against the book cover. “I want to be these girls again.”
“I’m still not following,” Ruthie admitted.
“What do you say we not only go to the Intensity concert, but try to meet them? For old times’ sake? It’s something we’ve always wanted to do, right? Now’s as good a time as any.” She paused and added, “It also might be our last chance.”
“I thought that was always the plan,” Ruthie replied seriously.
Celine grinned. “How could I have ever doubted you?”
“That’s beyond me!” Ruthie laughed. She rolled onto her stomach and peered at the book, recalling the hours they spent mapping out freeway routes and drawing blue prints of concert venues. All that effort with not one autograph or picture to show for it. “So you said the book was a symbol. What did you mean by that?”
“What better way to relive our childhood than to actually meet the people that basically made up our childhood? Like really meet them. None of these stupid hare-brained schemes.”
“I’ll have you know that my ‘hide in the luggage bin of the tour bus’ idea would have been gold!”
“And we would have probably ended up in prison,” Celine pointed out. She turned around and tossed the book into Ruthie’s wastebasket.
“Hey!” Ruthie protested.
Ignoring her, Celine proclaimed, “Given that we’re older now, I say we forget all those ideas and drive down to San Diego.”
“San Diego?” Ruthie exclaimed. “Why there?”
“It’s the only venue my literary agent was able to get us tickets and backstage passes to,” Celine admitted excitedly. Her face instantly fell when she saw the look of anger on Ruthie’s face.
“NO!”
Ruthie’s sudden outburst caused Celine to jump clear off the bed. Clearing her throat, Celine replied, “I’m sorry?”
“No!” Ruthie shook her head feverishly. “You just said you wanted to relive our childhood again, right?”
“Yeah…?”
“Then I can’t in good conscience meet Intensity by taking the pussy way out.” Ruthie stomped over to her wastebasket and retrieved the tiny book, staring at her friend pointedly.
“You can’t be serious!” Celine gasped.
Ruthie pursed her lips and lifted the book in the air, waving it around manically. “We are going to meet him by doing it the way our seventeen year old selves always tried to!”
“BY SNEAKING BACKSTAGE?” Images of their old diagrams flashed through Celine’s head. She shook her head quickly. “It’s never going to work! You’re insane!”
“It will work,” Ruthie replied adamantly.
“NO WAY!” Celine yelled. “You happen to forget that I’m technically a public figure. I can’t get caught sneaking backstage at a boy band concert. How bad would that look for my career?”
“You use a pen name,” Ruthie smirked.
“Regardless, as a grown woman I have to put my foot down and veto this idea. I have gone this long without a criminal record and I’m not about to tarnish that!”
Ruthie couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, come on! We’re not going to be arrested! The worst that’ll happen is we get caught and kicked out. At least we tried, right?”
Celine shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you really want to do this. We have perfectly good backstage passes waiting for us. We’re guaranteed a meet and greet with Cash Walker. You really want that to go to waste?”
Ruthie stopped short. Did she really want them to go to waste? Quickly deciding that it’d be worth it, she ran up and grabbed Celine by the shoulders. “We’re going to do this. It’ll work this time, I promise!”
Celine sighed in defeat. She knew she’d regret it, but still she relented. “Fine, I’ll call Jayne tomorrow and tell her we don’t want the passes and tickets anymore,” she said begrudgingly.
“Well, maybe keep the tickets,” Ruthie said sheepishly. “Pretty sure she’ll get us hella closer than nosebleeds.”