Chapter 10
Drew parked his beat-up Honda Civic where it would be least visible—behind a minivan at the far end of Wyndgate’s employee parking lot.
A jolt of nervous excitement zipped through my chest as I gazed up at the large wooden building perched on the hill in the distance.
With its projecting roof, carved moldings, and balcony lined with flower boxes, the place reminded me of a modern Swiss chalet.
All that was missing were the snowcapped mountains and hordes of vacationing skiers.
JJ leaned forward from our spot in the back seat and gave the center console a drumroll. “Ready, folks?”
Everyone nodded, unbuckled their seat belts, and piled out of the car.
“Can someone grab the stuff in the trunk?” Drew asked, popping it open with the click of his key fob. Maisie reached inside and withdrew a reusable grocery tote. Not wanting to draw any attention to us, I closed the lid as gently as possible.
“Which way do we go?” JJ asked, smoothing out his dress shirt as he glanced around.
None of us had been here before, but luckily Drew had a friend who worked as a greenskeeper, and he had drawn us a rough map of the place.
Drew studied the sketch before pointing us in the right direction.
As stealthily as possible, we crept past the empty tennis court and toward the golf course, making sure to give the golden pools beneath every lamppost a wide berth.
Despite its name, there was no gate at the club’s entrance to bar nonmembers, but a crotchety rent-a-cop named Glen who reveled in catching trespassers always patrolled the grounds.
Or so I’d heard. Maybe Glen was just a rumor started to keep the teens of Rochester from sneaking onto the property.
Whatever the case, I let out a sigh of relief when the tee box for the first hole came into view.
“Holy shit,” Drew said as we tore down the fairway into the dark. “This might actually work.”
JJ’s plan was simple: dress up like wedding guests, sneak onto the golf course once the reception was in full swing, and approach the clubhouse from behind.
According to Drew’s friend, the patio would be open, so we could slip inside using the back door.
If anyone caught us, we could pretend to have wandered away from the party for some fresh air.
The only major flaw with our ruse was that JJ hadn’t packed any formal attire.
Drew was buff, but even his dress shirts weren’t wide enough for JJ’s shoulders.
Thankfully, Maisie had a cousin who was roughly his size.
“Told you,” JJ said, and there was a note of satisfied glee in his response.
“Don’t jinx it,” I hissed as we neared the putting green. A yellow flagstick rose out of the dark, marking the hole. “We’re not inside yet.”
Five minutes later, after skirting around a small pond covered in lily pads and cutting across the thirteenth hole, Drew announced that we’d reached the center of the course. “We should be able to follow the cart path straight back to the clubhouse from here.”
“Time for phase two,” JJ said, rubbing his hands together.
Maisie slid the tote off her shoulder, removed a bottle of champagne I’d liberated from my parents’ liquor cabinet, and passed it to JJ.
While he worked on peeling back the foil, I ripped open the box of plastic flutes we’d purchased at the dollar store.
I handed one to Maisie and one to Drew and kept the remaining two for myself and JJ.
There was a loud pop, a quiet but jovial celebration from everyone, and then each glass was filled with bubbly.
“Cheers,” I said, eager to start drinking. The dress I had on was sleeveless, leaving my arms covered in goose bumps. Hopefully a drink or two would warm me up.
“What should we toast to?” Maisie asked.
Drew rubbed his jaw, considering. “Colonel Mustard?”
“To Brandon and Casey Abbott,” I said, raising my glass. “May they bask in marital bliss for all eternity and not notice the four randos crashing their wedding.”
Maisie glanced in JJ’s direction, snorted, and under her breath muttered, “Rando my ass.”
“Fine,” I amended with an eye roll. “Three randos and one not-so-conspicuous celebrity.”
Everyone laughed, and then JJ added, “To friends, good times, and living life to the fullest.”
“Hear, hear!” Drew exclaimed as we clinked our glasses together.
JJ kept his gaze fixed on me as he raised the champagne to his lips.
Maybe it was the sight of him in a suit, backlit by the moon’s silvery glow, or maybe it was the thrill of our technically illegal shenanigans, but either way, a feeling of warmth pooled in my stomach as he took his first sip.
With an embarrassed blush, I looked away.
“Pass the bottle,” Drew said after downing his glass in one go. Once he topped off and our trash was disposed of in a garbage can by the tee box, we began our trek back toward the club.
“Hey,” JJ said, nudging me in the side as we walked. “Thanks for inviting me this weekend.”
“It was my pleasure,” I said, and I meant it.
Without JJ, I wouldn’t be on the cusp of crossing off another bucket list item.
Could I have figured out my own way to get the selfie if he hadn’t come?
Sure. But this moment right now? Adrenaline pumping through my body as we wove between the blooming spring trees, stars sparkling overhead, champagne buzzing in my veins? This was exhilarating.
“I know I suggested we get tattoos, but I’m glad we’re here instead,” he said, tilting his head back to gaze at the sky.
“And if we get caught?”
He shrugged. “Then we’ll have a great story to tell.”
“I suppose, but I really want that selfie.”
“Don’t worry,” he said confidently. “You’ll get it, but I do have a question for you.”
“Okay, shoot.”
“Would you rather have the best night of your life but not get the picture or get the picture but have a terrible time?”
I allowed myself a moment to consider. A few yards ahead of us, Maisie burst out laughing.
When I glanced up, Drew was spinning her in a circle, making the flowy green dress she wore twirl in the air around her.
“Under any other circumstance, I’d always pick the first option,” I finally decided.
“But I’m on a mission—no, a quest—to finish my list.”
“Commitment and determination in the face of suffering,” JJ said with an approving nod. “I don’t necessarily agree with your answer, but I can get behind that.”
“Suffering being…having a bad time?”
The corners of JJ’s eyes crinkled. “Exactly.”
“That’s a woefully ignorant definition of suffering,” I pointed out.
“Well, I’m an incredibly lucky person.”
“Meaning?”
He paused to consider. “I’m going to answer honestly, but I want you to know that I’m not saying this because I’m some cocky asshole who’s trying to brag. I’m telling you this because it’s the truth.”
“And what truth is that?”
“That I know how privileged I am. I landed my dream job before I was a legal adult. I get to spend my time traveling the world with my best friends. I’ve made more money than I could spend in ten lifetimes,” he said, staring past me into the dark.
“Basically, I have it better than ninety-nine point nine percent of the global population. I’ve been blessed, so I have a responsibility to enjoy those blessings. ”
His voice was so laden with guilt, it made my heart feel heavy. “Just because you have a charmed life doesn’t mean bad things can’t happen to you,” I told him.
JJ shook his head. “Other people have it worse.”
“But you shouldn’t invalidate your own pain,” I said. What the heck was JJ going through that he wouldn’t allow himself to feel?
“To me, it is.” He didn’t elaborate on the subject, just slipped a hand into his pocket and continued walking. “It’s your turn.”
“What? Oh, right,” I said, scrambling after him. “Let me think.” It took me a minute, but eventually I came up with a somewhat decent question. “Would you rather be forced to live the same boring day over and over again for a full year or take three years off the end of your life?”
“Three years off the end of my life, no question.”
“Why?”
“I want to enjoy every moment I have,” he answered. “Live fast, die young.”
“You don’t actually want to die young, do you?” I asked, because really? Time was a luxury. How anyone could give it away so casually was beyond my understanding.
As if he had read my mind, JJ flinched. “Shit, no. I’m sorry, Cara. That’s not what I meant. It’s just a stupid phrase.”
“I’d relive the same boring day for a year. Not every moment of life is meant to be enjoyable. If they were, everything would feel monotonous,” I said. “I want as much time as possible. The good and the bad, because without the crappy moments, the best ones wouldn’t feel as great.”
JJ considered this for a moment. “Okay, I change my mind. I’ll relive the same day too.”
I laughed. “You don’t have to switch your answer to appease me.”
“I’m not,” he replied. “You made a compelling argument that convinced me I was wrong.”
“Okay,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Your turn.”
“Would you rather have shrimp for fingers or screaming nipples?” he asked without hesitation, like he’d had the question cued up and ready to go.
My nose burned as I choked on a sip of champagne. “Excuse me?”
A barely discernible twitch of the lips was my only indication that JJ was fighting off a grin. “Pretty sure I didn’t mumble.”
“Okay, fine,” I said, sighing dramatically. “But before I answer, you need to clarify something for me. Is the screaming constant or only when…” I trailed off, not sure how to finish the question.
“Stimulated?” JJ supplied, eyes twinkling in amusement.
“Not the word I would have gone with,” I said as a flush swept up my neck, “but yeah, that.”
His lips twitching again. “It’s not constant.”
“Then I’ll take the noisy nips.”
“Really?” JJ sounded pleasantly surprised.
“I hate shrimp,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “Besides, the, ah…clamor would be a hilarious surprise.”