Authors: Tamara Summers
“We should sleep in,” she says, “which I’m sure you’ll appreciate.”
“This is already the best wedding ever,” I say fervently.
She laughs. “Ben and I will go out and get our marriage license in the morning,” she says. “Then we’ll pick a chapel and call you when we get back. Is that okay?”
“You bet,” I say, maybe a little too cheerfully, because once the doors close behind them, Leo takes my shoulders, shakes me lightly, and says, “Don’t be nervous. I told you I’d be good.”
“I know,” I say. “I trust you.” It’s
me
I don’t trust, but I don’t tell him that.
He follows me quietly down the hall and waits while I swipe us into the room. There are two queen-sized beds and a positively gigantic TV taking up the opposite wall.
“You’d think they wouldn’t want you to stay in your room and watch TV,” I say, pointing at it.
“Maybe you can gamble through the TV somehow,” he says, picking up the remote.
“Maybe tomorrow,” I say, collapsing on the bed. “Is it really getting light outside already?”
Leo closes the curtains, and we listen to the patter of raindrops against the glass for a moment. Then he goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth, and when he’s done I go in, and by the time I come back out, he’s already curled up in one of the beds, apparently fast asleep.
I watch him for a moment, thinking about the feel of his hands and how soft his hair is.
Go to sleep, Jack,
my mind says.
He’s helping you avoid temptation. And you’re certainly tired enough. Stop thinking about kissing him and go to sleep.
I climb into the other bed, surround myself with pillows, and fall asleep surprisingly quickly, considering there’s a hot guy only a few feet away from me. In my dreams, it’s me and Leo who are eloping, and as I stand across from him with an Elvis impersonator droning
at us, I suddenly realize I’m not wearing anything, and neither is he (although, luckily, the Elvis impersonator is fully clothed), and let’s just leave the rest of the dream to your imagination.
“Jack?” A hand is stroking my shoulder softly. “Jack, wake up.” The hand moves to my hair, smoothing it back from my face, and part of me is really tempted to pretend to keep sleeping, just to see what he’ll do next. But my self-control prevails, and I open my eyes and roll over, blinking.
Leo is sitting on the edge of my bed, his hair rumpled with sleep. And he is
shirtless
. I tell you, I think he’s torturing me.
“It’s, like, two o’clock in the afternoon,” he says, looking amused.
“Have you been awake for long?”
“Long enough to read
Animal Farm
,” he says,
waving it at me.
“I guess it’s lucky I didn’t bring
War and Peace
,” I say, leaning up on my elbows, “or you might have let me sleep until next year.”
“You looked so peaceful,” he says. “And your sister still hasn’t called.”
“Really?” That wakes me up a bit more.
“That’s weird.”
“I’m sure she slept late, too,” he says. “But maybe you should call her.”
Nobody answers her room phone, and her cell phone goes straight to voice mail. I leave her a worried message and hang up.
“Hey, Vegas is crazy,” Leo says. “I’m sure she’s all right. She’ll call soon.”
“Yeah, she will,” I agree. It is still pouring outside; I can hear thunder crashing and the splatter of the raindrops on the window.
“Apparently this is some freak weather,” Leo says. “It never rains this much in Las Vegas. But,” he says quickly, perhaps sensing what I’m about to say, “it’s good luck to have rain on your wedding day, so this is definitely
not a curse thing.”
“Sure,” I say, giving him a wry look.
“I mean, it can’t be, right?” he says, spreading his hands. “We’re being so well-behaved.”
I’m not sure the thoughts I’m having about your shirtlessness are exactly “well-behaved,” but okay.
“Well, I’m going to shower,” I say, “in case she calls and wants us to be ready to go right away.”
After I emerge, my wet hair wrapped in towels, Leo takes his turn showering while I get dressed. I decide to wear the dress I’ve picked out for Sofia’s ceremony, because my guess is that we’ll have to race out the door as soon as she calls. It’s my favorite dress, and I’ve only worn it once—to junior prom, which I attended with a big group of my single friends.
It’s made of dark red silk that picks up on the highlights in my hair, which normally looks brown, but kind of has an auburn thing going when I wear this dress. It has a loose scoop neck and is fitted through the waist, then flares out to a knee-length skirt. There are tiny black jet beads sewn along the hem in a vine pattern. I’m
kind of psyched to be able to wear it again. I just hope Sofia calls soon…this is not a dress for sitting around a hotel room in.
Leo comes out of the bathroom in just his jeans, toweling off his hair. He looks up and sees me, and his eyes soften in this really dreamy way. “Wow,” he says. “You’re not going to make it easy for a guy to behave himself, are you?”
Um, yeah, and the
shirtless
thing is helping?
“See what a difference it makes when I get to dress myself?” I joke, twirling around. “Turns out I don’t look terrible in everything…just in anything my sisters pick out.”
“Are you trying to tell me you’re not totally looking forward to the overalls at Paris’s wedding?” Leo teases.
“Don’t remind me.” I roll my eyes. “I’ve been looking forward to choosing my own dress for Sofia’s wedding…I just didn’t think it would happen this soon.”
“Don’t worry,” he says, hanging the towel up behind the door. “Sofia’s a smart girl. She can take care of herself.”
“I hope so,” I say, rubbing my arms. “Are you starving? I’m starving. But we shouldn’t leave, in case Sofia shows up looking for us….”
“Voilà!”
he says triumphantly, producing a room service menu from the desk.
“Ooooh,” I say. “But…um, expensive, don’t you think?”
“Will you let me buy you lunch?” he says. “I mean, most of the money I’ve made this summer was thanks to your family, honestly.”
“When you put it that way—” I say, laughing. I choose a Cobb salad and he orders a grilled chicken sandwich. They arrive on a hilariously fancy rolling table with fancy silverware, a fancy white tablecloth, and posh silver lids we can whisk off as if we’re in
Beauty and the Beast
. We roll it over to the end of Leo’s bed and watch TV while we eat, perched on the edge of the mattress.
It does not escape my attention that we are sitting on a bed, very close to each other. But he keeps his promise and doesn’t even touch me accidentally.
We are watching a show about meerkats on Animal Planet and joking about how silly they look when my cell phone finally rings. It’s Sofia—thank goodness. It doesn’t occur to me until just that moment that I have no idea what I would say if Mom or Dad, or most terrifying of all, Paris, called.
“Sofia!” I cry into the phone. “Where are you?”
“We’re at a diner down the street from the hotel,” Sofia says. She sounds more subdued than she did last night. “But I think we found the perfect chapel.”
“Tell me there are Elvis impersonators,” I say. She laughs.
“Sadly, no,” she says. “But it’s really cute! You’ll like it.”
“So should we meet you there soon?” I ask.
“Um…” she says hesitantly. “Well, we’re still figuring that out. I’m thinking maybe later tonight. Would that be okay? Can you hang out until then? Maybe we can get married and then all have dinner together.”
“Sure,” I say. “Whatever you want to do. Do you want to do something together for the afternoon?”
“Well…Ben and I are kind of talking,” Sofia says.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, totally, of course,” she says, but it’s not very convincing. “We’re just figuring out some stuff.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Do you mind just hanging out for a while? And we’ll call you later with the details of where to go and all that…would that be okay?”
“Absolutely,” I say. She’s repeating herself, so I can tell she’s distracted. “Do whatever you have to do. Don’t worry about me. But I’m here if you need me for any reason.”
“Thanks, Jack,” she says, sounding relieved.
“Sorry to be all weird. I’m glad you have Leo there to entertain you.”
“Yeah, we’re doing fine,” I say, glancing at him. He is finally wearing a shirt, by the way, and he’s lying on the bed watching me alertly.
When he sees me look over at him, he winks. “Hey, Sofia, did you call Mom and Dad?”
“I did,” she says. “But, um, I maybe didn’t tell them everything.”
“What did you say?”
“I told them you and I just needed to get away for a weekend, and we’d be back on Sunday.”
“Did you even tell them where we are?”
“Um…no.”
“Wild,” I say. “They didn’t care?”
“They seemed to have enough going on,” she says. “I could hear Paris yelling in the background. Dad said maybe we should stay through next weekend, too, and she really didn’t appreciate that.”
“I guess they trust you,” I say. She doesn’t respond for a minute, so I add, “Which they should, Sofia. You’re amazing.”
“Do you think they’ll be mad about this?” she says softly.
“I think they’ll understand,” I say. “Maybe not right away, but eventually.”
“Hmm,” she says. “All right. Call you soon.”
“Have fun!” I say, and then we hang up. I put the phone back on the bedside table and smooth down my skirt.
“All dressed up and nowhere to go,” I say ruefully.
“So let’s go for a walk,” Leo says, sitting up.
“I’ve never been here. I’ve heard some of the hotels are off the charts.”
“I’ve heard that, too,” I say. “But we have to be careful—the gambling age is twenty-one, so they’ll throw us out of any casinos.”
“In that dress,” he says, “I bet you could pass for twenty-one.”
I smile and stand up. “Let’s not risk it.”
A couple of hours later, we get back to the room, laughing, hyper, and soaking wet. Well, Leo is soaking wet. He has gallantly thrown his raincoat over me to protect my dress and my hair, since I was dumb enough not to bring any sort of rainproof clothing along, despite my travel-happy upbringing.
We stumble through the door just as light
ning illuminates the room, and I catch a glimpse of his dripping hair and his white teeth as he grins widely. He closes the door behind us and we stand for a moment in the dark, catching our breath.
“So, wow,” I say. “Fountains, flamingos, and tigers, oh my.”
“I liked the shark reef,” he says. “That was crazy.”
“And the volcano!” I say. My phone rings and I scramble to get it out of my purse.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Jack.” It’s Sofia again. “So…would you totally kill me if I said we’re still talking?”
“Of course not,” I say. “But haven’t you run out of stuff to say yet?”
She chuckles. “Not quite. We’re thinking maybe we’ll get married tomorrow instead. Is that okay?”
I look down at my dress. “Sure. Just tell us what you want us to do.”
“I’ll call you in the morning,” she says with a sigh. “Sorry again.”
“Dude, whatever,” I say. “We’re having so much fun. Don’t worry about us.”
“You’re the best,” she says. “Have a good night.”
I close the phone and look up at Leo. Neither of us has turned on the light yet, but I can see the outline of his face in the glow from the flashing signs outside.
“I should hang up my coat,” I say.
“You mean
my
coat,” he teases. He reaches out to help tug it off my shoulders, and his hands brush my bare arms. But he quickly pulls back, reaching for a coat hanger and putting the rain jacket into the closet beside us.
I move away a little, kicking off my shoes and wringing out my hair. He starts to step forward and I stop him with one hand on his chest.
“Stay there. Take off your shoes,” I say. He obeys while I go into the bathroom and return with one of the big fluffy hotel towels. When I come back, I discover that he’s also taken off his socks and his shirt, so he’s once again just standing there in blue jeans, although this
time he’s much more wet.
“Thanks,” he says with a smile, reaching for the towel. I bat his hands aside and wrap the towel around his chest, rubbing him dry. He stands very still as I move up to his face and his hair. I bring the towel back down to his waist and stop, my heart thundering in my chest, my breathing suddenly faster. Only a fold of terry cloth separates my hands from his bare skin. He’s breathing more quickly, too, and through the towel I can feel that he’s trembling a little.
“I’m sorry,” he says, catching my hands as if to push me away. “I didn’t mean to—I’m really trying—”
I drop the towel, run my hands up his chest, and kiss him. He kisses me back like he’s drowning and I’m the air, but then he breaks away and steps back again. “No, I promised,” he says. “I said I wouldn’t—I really meant it.”
“Don’t you want to?” I say, touching his chest.
He lets out a breath. “You have no idea,” he says. “But I don’t want you to feel like I tricked
you or anything when I said I’d be good. I only want to do what you want to do.”
“I want to do this,” I say, and kiss him again, harder this time. He runs his hands up my back to the triangle of bare skin below my neck and presses me into his lips.
“Jack, are you sure?” he says when we come up for air.
I’ve never felt so sure. I know how different this is, because I came this close with David and then stopped. I knew that was wrong…and I know this is right. Leo runs his hands along the curves of my waist and kisses the side of my neck as I lead him over to the bed.
“Jack,” he whispers as we lie down, “I think I’ve loved you since the moment I—”
“Shhh,” I say, and then…there’s no more talking.
I wake up curled in Leo’s arms, all the covers tossed aside. It’s pitch dark outside, but it’s stopped raining. His breathing in his sleep is calm, slow, and relaxing, and I match mine to it, realizing that I don’t feel tense, probably for the first time in months. I rest my head on his shoulder and think about Sofia and Ben.
Soon he shifts, and I feel him wake up. I lift my head and we both see the time on the alarm clock by the bed. It’s nearly midnight.
He runs one hand gently down my arm and I shiver happily.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I say back.
“I can’t believe that really just happened,” he says. “Was it your—I mean, have you…?”
“My first time,” I say.
“Mine too,” he says. I wonder if I should be more suspicious and accusatory about the fact that he brought protection, but he claimed he always carried it, and I was so happy to see it that I didn’t actually care whether it was a sign of sinister planning or innocent foresight.
There’s a pause. I trail a finger along his collarbone. “You know what I’m thinking?” I ask.
“Again?” he says. “Now?”
“You’re a terrible psychic,” I say, laughing. “I was going to say that I’m really, really hungry.”
“Oh, yeah,” he says, pretending to sound macho. “Me too. That’s what I was going to say. What did you think I meant?”
“Should we go looking for food?” I ask.
“Or,” he suggests, pulling me closer, “have them bring it to us.”
“Best plan ever,” I say, leaning over him to grab the room service menu from the bedside table.
Sofia doesn’t call again until midafternoon the next day, Saturday, which leaves us a lot of time for sleeping, ordering room service, watching goofy TV, and certain other things.
Finally my phone rings, and I shoot a guilty look at the crumpled heap of clothes where I left my dress. I wonder if there’s a way to get it cleaned before Sofia’s wedding, or if I’ll have to be a bridesmaid in jeans this time.
“Hey, Sofia,” I say brightly into the phone.
“The anticipation is killing us over here.”
“We’re not eloping,” she says.
I look over at Leo, who raises his eyebrows inquisitively, and I shake my head. “Oh,” I say, trying to sound noncommittal. “How come?”
“Because we’re only twenty years old,” Sofia says. “We’ve decided maybe this was a bit sudden. I’ll go visit him at Christmas and we’ll see how we feel about the future then.”
“Oh,” I say again, and she starts laughing.
“It’s okay, Jack,” she says. “If even I have come to that conclusion, I’m guessing you might have had the same thought.”
“I told you—I support you no matter what,” I say.
“Well, thank you,” she says. “I’m sorry this trip was such a waste of time for you.”
I look at Leo again. “It wasn’t so bad,” I say, smiling.
“Would you be ready to fly home tonight?” she asks. “There’s an overnight flight we can switch to that’ll be cheaper.”
“Oh…sure,” I say, hoping she can’t hear my disappointment. Being with Leo on our own in a hotel room in Vegas is one thing. Once we’re home again…I don’t know what might happen.
“Okay,” she says. “Meet you in the lobby at seven.”
I flip the phone shut. “The wedding’s off.”
“That’s good, right?” Leo says.
“I think so,” I say. “She sounded happy about it. We have four hours, and then we’re leaving.”
“Four hours?” he says, and I don’t miss the disappointment in his voice, too. “Then…we’d
better make the most of it.” He takes my hand and pulls me, laughing, onto the bed.
Everything seems to be going well—Sofia and Ben are still acting cute and happy with each other, instead of mad, like I thought they’d be, and we make it to the airport in plenty of time for the overnight flight. Leo and I play Uno on the plane until I fall asleep on his shoulder. It isn’t until we get to the airport at home and have to say goodbye that things start going wrong again.
While Sofia and Ben wait by the baggage claim, I walk Leo over to the elevator to the parking lot. He stops, takes my hand, and says teasingly, “So does this mean I can be your date to Paris’s wedding next weekend?”
“Yeah, right!” I joke back. “Maybe if we’re hoping for a natural disaster.”
There’s an awkward silence, and when I look up, he has a hurt expression on his face.
“Leo,” I say, “I thought you understood. Why would you want to ruin everything now? I mean, Vegas is one thing, but…”
“Then what was all that?” he asks, dropping my hand and stepping back. “Didn’t it mean anything to you?”
“Of course it did,” I say, although my brain is screaming,
Act casual! Don’t let him know how much you care! You’ll just get hurt if you do!
“But now we’re going back to the real world.”
Where things can go really wrong. Especially with one more, completely insane wedding to go
.
“Jack,” he says, and for the first time I hear anger in his voice. “I’m crazy about you, and you know it. I don’t care if you think it’s stupid—I believe in love at first sight, and I believe you and I would be great together. Or at least, I did…but you clearly don’t feel the same way, or, you’d be like me—you wouldn’t let anything come between us.”
“But—”
“I’ve been patient,” he says. “This whole summer. Haven’t I? I did what you wanted—I followed your rules. I was going to do that in Vegas, too. I didn’t want to push you; I thought I could wait forever for you. But
you
kissed
me
,
Jack. You—I just—I don’t understand you.”
“Leo,” I start to say, but I don’t know what I’m going to say next, and he doesn’t give me the chance.
“Please…don’t,” he says, turns, and walks away.
I feel like my heart has just been kicked out of my chest. Our banter has always been fun and flirty, never serious. To see him like this is a shock. It makes me realize that this isn’t just a game to him, either.
I didn’t think it was possible to feel worse than I did after David broke up with me, but this is infinitely worse. This is exactly the kind of pain I wanted to avoid—the pain I knew would be inevitable if I gave in and let myself feel this strongly for Leo.
But all this time, I’ve been worrying so much about getting hurt…it never occurred to me that I could hurt him, too.
We can actually hear the shouting from the street as Ben pulls up in front of the house to drop us off.
“Um,” Sofia says, “this might not be the best time for you to come in, Ben.”
“Thank you for sparing me,” he says, kissing her lightly. “Call me later?”
“You bet,” she says. Now why couldn’t my good-bye with Leo be more like that? I mean, I’m not the one who called off a wedding this weekend…you’d think Sofia and Ben would be the ones fighting. Sigh.
Sofia and I give each other nervous looks as Ben pulls away.
“I have to admit, Sofia,” I say, “I’m kind of glad we’re not about to go in there and tell them you’re suddenly married.”
“That might have been awkward, huh?” she agrees with a laugh.
“NOBODY IN THIS FAMILY CARES ABOUT ME!” we hear Paris bellow, and there is an almighty crash. “NOBODY SUPPORTS ME, NOBODY CARES WHAT I WANT, AND NOBODY UNDERSTANDS WHAT I’M GOING THROUGH!”
Dad shouts something in return, but we
can’t make out the words, because he doesn’t have quite the volume of dear Paris. Sofia takes my hand, and with a deep breath, we climb the steps and walk through the front door.
Paris is up on the balcony that overlooks our front hall, flinging things over the edge. I notice there are overalls and leotards scattered about, in addition to sunflower flip-flops and sunflower hair clips and a box that was probably the crash we just heard.
“YOU!” she shouts in a melodramatic voice, spotting us. Her bright yellow hair is sticking out wildly in all directions. “I can’t believe you did this to me! And I was going to give you TRIVETS!”
I glance at Sofia to see if this mysterious statement means anything to her, but she looks as puzzled as I do. Dad pokes his head over the stair rail and sees us.
“Would you tell Paris that she’s being irrational?” he says. “It is entirely unnecessary for each of her guests to have an individual miniature homemade chocolate soufflé.”
“But it would be ADORABLE!” Paris yells.
“WHY DON’T YOU WANT MY WEDDING TO BE
ADORABLE
?”
Dad sighs heavily and rubs his forehead. “I’m glad you girls are home. You talk to Paris. I’ll be in my office. For the next five years.”
He vanishes down the hall and Paris glowers at us from the balcony above. I think we’re quite lucky she’s already thrown the box over, or it might have been aimed at our heads right about now.
“You are
out
,” Paris declares. “You
abandoned
me in my hour of need. And so you can say good-bye to your cute outfits”—she points dramatically at the overalls—“to the adorable hairdos…and to the one-of-a-kind Paris original trivets I was going to give you as your bridesmaid presents! Well, not anymore! You’re going to have to wear your own stupid clothes to my wedding! Because now I know who my only real sister is, and it certainly isn’t either of you!”
She flounces dramatically down the hall upstairs and we hear the door to her room slam.
“I wonder what that means,” Sofia says, poking the overalls with one toe. “You think Alex or Sydney made a comeback this weekend?”
“If it means they end up in the overalls instead of me, I’m going to be just heartbroken,” I say.
Sofia crouches beside the box and peeks inside. “Oooh,” she says. “Wait’ll you see this.” She pulls out a twisted, copper-colored metal thing that looks a bit like a squashed bird’s nest.
“Oh no—a one-of-a-kind Paris original trivet!” I say, pressing one hand to my heart. “I’m truly crushed.”
Sofia grins. “Okay, now we’re just being mean. We should probably go apologize to her.”
I look regretfully at the sunflower flip-flops. “Are you sure we can’t apologize
after
the wedding?”
“Don’t bother,” Mom says, bustling in from the kitchen with flour in her hair and all over her hands. “We don’t have time for you to apologize or for you to be bridesmaids, anyway. Sofia, I need you to run out and buy me twenty
Mason jars, as cheap as you can find them. Paris wants wildflowers with the sunflowers for her centerpieces. And Jack, you’re in the kitchen with me—we’re making two hundred large sunflower cookies, which will be just as cute as miniature chocolate soufflés!” Mom shouts this last part at the upstairs, so I get the impression it’s not really intended for me.
“BUT I WANT SOUFFLÉS!” Paris screams from inside her room. “WHY DOESN’T ANYONE EVER DO WHAT
I
WANT?”
Mom rolls her eyes, seizes my wrist, and drags me into the kitchen, which is a sea of pans and baking sheets and mixing bowls. She shoves a recipe book at me and commands: “Read.”
The rest of the day is a blur. We didn’t sleep very much on the plane, and to be honest I didn’t sleep much the night before either, so I follow Mom’s instructions in a sort of daze—measuring, mixing, rolling, and pressing sunflower-shaped cookie cutters into the dough. While half my brain is doing that, the other half is thinking about Leo. This would be much more
fun with him here. This whole summer—all the wedding craziness—has been bearable only because of him.
Have I ruined everything?
Is there any way to get him back?
Once the dough is stashed away in the refrigerator and Mom finally releases me, I stagger back to my room and collapse on the bed without unpacking or changing. Instead I pull out my cell phone and dial Leo’s number. It goes straight to voice mail, and I realize I have no idea what to say, so I hang up, feeling like a coward.
“Maybe I should just elope!” Paris hollers out in the hallway. “That would teach you all a lesson!”