Chapter 14
THE FIVE STAGES OF MADAME XIMENA’S TEA
First Stage of Madame Ximena’s Tea: EUPHORIA
“I’m the king of the world!” I scream, arms spread wide as the cool Caribbean breeze hits my face and turns my hair into a tangled disaster I’ll definitely regret tomorrow morning.
“Check out my boobs, Cancún!” Gemma pops up beside me through the sunroof and lifts her bride-squad T-shirt, the same one we’re all wearing.
She’s still wearing a bra, but that lasts about two seconds before she yanks it off and spins it above her head like a whip.
The limousine slams on the brakes at a red light, and the sudden stop sends her bra flying right out of her hand and into some random Mexican sidewalk.
I should worry about the situation, maybe even ask the driver to pull over. Instead, all I do is burst into uncontrollable laughter. Gemma joins instantly before crawling back inside the limo and screaming the entire story to the rest of our group as if they were miles away.
None of them, and I mean none of us, is sober enough to even attempt solving the problem. And now everyone is completely drunk whilst high on tea, arriving at the club wearing matching shirts, veils, and glow-in-the-dark bracelets, after losing nearly half the bride squad.
Victoria and Brenda went out to buy the pregnancy test, Lianne stayed home to watch the grandmas. Elise was the fifth warrior to fall, when, instead of paying Jack The Stripper, she shoved her tongue down his throat, and the two got busy like horny teenagers.
Not to mention Gemma’s missing bra, Cordelia’s broken heel, Aunt Abby crying for no reason for thirty straight minutes, and the bride puking through the entire limo roof.
And you’d think that when we finally met the groom squad they’d be worse. But nope. Of course not. Compared to us, they look like a bunch of celibate monks.
“What the hell…?” Robbie mouths silently when we meet on the dance floor.
Some electronic track is exploding through the speakers, and the Drum & Bass beat vibrates so hard inside my chest that I’m not sure whether I’m having the time of my life or a full-blown heart attack.
Mila jumps on Robbie, wrapping her legs around his waist like a baby monkey. Then licks his face.
I kind of wanna tell Robbie she threw up her entire dinner a few minutes ago, but my attention span is nonexistent right now, so I get distracted by Suzi and Cordelia doing the Cancan for some reason, until one of them falls on top of the other.
The groomsmen rush over to help. Tony, of course. Then Jasper.
Shit. Jasper.
Why is he here? Just thinking his name makes me wanna puke again. And no limo roof in the world would be enough to contain the all the puke from the amount of nausea I’ve been feeling after everything Madame Ximena said.
And because of the tea.
Especially because of the tea.
Crap, the tea! It’s coming back, isn’t it?
Oh yes. It’s coming back exactly the way it went in.
My eyes widen, my hand flies to my mouth, and I barely register Robbie’s lips forming a clear “Holy shit!” before I sprint toward the bathroom.
Second Stage of Madame Ximena’s Tea: THE ELIXIR OF TRUTH
I can’t even tell if we ruined the party or if, in reality, this is an amazing party precisely because of the chaos we’re causing.
Gemma found a girl she likes and now they’re grinding to Reggaeton in the middle of the dance floor.
Aunt Abby has been exchanging looks with what looks like some shady mob boss in a fancy suit, and he actually sent a security guard to fetch her from the crowd and escort her up to his VIP booth on the second floor.
Yes. We have officially lost warrior number six.
Mila and Robbie have made around fifteen loud declarations of love so far, forcing everyone around them to clap and congratulate them over and over again.
Cordelia and Suzi are still taking shots at the bar. I think about the smell of alcohol and immediately run back to the bathroom.
This time, when I come out, Connor is waiting for me outside.
Fuck.
“You okay, Julie?” he asks, a worried expression on his face.
Oh, please. Don’t fall for this. Not the concern, not the sad-puppy face. The only reason he’s here is because he’s trying to get lucky tonight and probably hasn’t managed to find anyone else at the party.
And because I already know this, my answer is ready, “I’m terrible!”
He squints.
“And I feel like garbage.”
He squints again.
“I don’t even remember eating chili today… but there’s chili coming out of both ends.”
“Oh,” he mutters, searching for something to say.
Yeah, Connor. Oh.
“Well, you still look delicious, though.” He’s serious? “Wanna head home? I can call a taxi for us.”
He is serious.
“Hmm…” I think, even though the answer has been painfully clear in my mind for ages, “I’d rather have someone stab me in the eye than go home with you, Connor.”
His eyes fly wide open.
Shit. Did I say that out loud?
“Sorry, Connor,” I correct quickly, “what I meant was that I’d rather have someone cut my eye out with a knife than leave this club with you.”
Which… didn’t fix anything.
At all.
What the hell is happening?
“I got it the first time you said it,” he replies. You’d think he’d be offended and walk away, right? But no. He just smiles lazily and says, “Thought we had a good thing going, princess.”
“For you, maybe!” I snap. Then just give up on correcting myself any further. “You found some lonely, na?ve idiot who didn’t have the guts to tell you that pleasing is supposed to be mutual. It’s called reciprocity.”
“Oh.”
Yeah. That’s right, Connor. Oh again.
“About that,” he says, “I told you I didn’t like doing it, and you said it was fine.”
“Well, I lied!” I fire back. And honestly, that one’s not even as bad as the things I’m trying not to say.
“I used to think it was because you were just selfish, but Mila said it was more likely you just didn’t know how, because they don’t teach that kind of thing in the misogynistic porn you’ve been jerking off to your whole life.
But then again, all porn is kind of misogynistic, I think? Maybe not. I’ll have to research…”
I’m rambling, barely hearing when he asks, jaw on the floor, “You told Mila?”
I’m still lost in my own thoughts, but my mouth answers without consulting me first, “I did. Told everyone. But don’t worry, I only did it after I found out you told Robbie I was a freak in the sheets and that I’d fallen hopelessly in love because of your magic dick.”
His face goes red. He’s searching for something to say, maybe an apology, maybe something worse than what he told Robbie after we hooked up. With Connor, you never know.
And honestly? Tea-induced spiritual awakening or not, I’m surprisingly unbothered by either option.
I just look around, bored, hoping to spot someone from the bride squad. But none of the girls left is in any condition to rescue me from this torture.
And then, as if things weren’t bad enough, Jasper conveniently shifts his attention away from whatever Uncle Henry is saying, and his eyes lock on mine.
For, like, a quarter of a second.
Something about Connor’s borderline-psycho posture and my dead-bored expression must’ve caught Jasper’s attention. He looks. He blinks.
Dear God, no. Don’t do what I think you’re about to do. Don’t–
His eyes find mine again and he takes the first step.
I cannot talk to him right now.
I.cannot.talk.to.him.right.now.
The voice in my head screams louder with every step he takes, leaving the surviving members of both bachelor and bachelorette parties behind.
Fucking hell, I just can ‘t!
But it’s too late. Jasper is right in front of me, and both Connor and I are staring at him, waiting for what comes next.
He looks curious.
I look frozen.
My body refuses to move and the only thing I manage is to press my lips together so nothing catastrophic slips out while he’s here.
If I’m lucky, he’s just gonna grab Connor and leave.
“Hey, man,” Jasper says to him, barely acknowledging my existence. “Andrew was looking for you.”
Andrew was not looking for anyone. Andrew left fifteen minutes ago with a group of college girls in neon tops.
“Said there’s some hot girl lying on the bar charging five bucks for anyone who wants to lick tequila from her belly button,” Jasper continues, emotionless.
Connor’s eyes practically sparkle at the words. He gives me one last look, weighing his chances after everything I told him, wondering if it’s still worth trying something with me, all gross and covered in vomit, instead of licking tequila off some random hot woman.
The answer is obvious.
He downs his drink in one go, tosses the cup into the trash with a burp, and says, “Catch you later, Julie!”
Then walks off without looking back.
Jasper rolls his eyes, apparently just as annoyed by Connor as I am, but also bored, as if he isn’t even surprised his plan worked so easily.
That’s how well we all know what kind of guy Connor is.
“You’re welcome,” Jasper finally says, this time looking at me.
Welcome for what? I was enjoying that – my brain wants to say.
But it’s a lie. And since lies aren’t an option right now, the only thing left for me to do is stand up and run toward the tall table where everyone left is staying.
Because, if I’m surrounded by people, maybe Jasper won’t have the audacity to talk to me about that little forbidden topic.
He probably won’t even look at me.
I pull up a barstool, watching Mila twerk on the floor while Robbie pretends to smack her ass, and rest my elbows on the table. Tony is wrestling Cordelia for her drink, telling her she’s had enough and will thank him tomorrow.
After a long struggle, she finally lets go, and Tony collapses onto the seat beside me, exhausted. Cordelia starts dancing again, sweaty red curls plastered to her forehead, as if nothing happened.
“Hi, Tony!” I say, and he sighs in response.
He looks at me again, probably shocked that I’m so… quiet.
Little does he know the crazy is happening entirely inside my brain right now.
“You okay?”
“That depends. Are the lights shaking?”
Tony lifts his head and looks around.
“You mean flashing?”