Chapter 5
I help Stephanie change into her reception jumpsuit, assist with zippers and buttons.
I reapply her lipstick, sweep some highlighter across her cheekbones, then sit on the lip of the tub while she studies her reflection, smooths some stubborn flyaways.
I don’t let on how nervous I am that the second we leave this cabin we’ll be assaulted by a mysterious figure in all black.
But we walk out no problem. I escort her back to the reception hall, where people start to file inside for dinner.
Jace stands on the steps, talking with Luke and Evan and Wyatt. Cass is stuck in conversation with Vicky, looking fucking miserable. Cass holds the record for worst poker face. Luckily, Vicky is dense, too self-absorbed for social cues.
Ravi and Tanya have been cornered by Olivia and are probably getting an earful about Tuscan wine.
Danny is…I don’t see Danny.
“It makes me so emotional,” Steph says, wiping a tear with her pinkie finger. “Seeing everyone I love here in one place.”
“I agree it’s very nice, but you’re not allowed to cry. It’ll ruin your makeup.”
“It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to.” She wraps her arms around my waist and squeezes. “Oh, I love you! I love you, I love you.”
“You’re just love drunk.” Everyone watches us as we pass, complimenting Steph’s outfit change. She’s the bride, the center of attention, the center of the universe. I’m just a hanger-on. Which is fine. I don’t want the attention. I don’t even like being attention-adjacent.
I decide to take mercy on Cassie, despite the lingering bitterness. I set Steph free and head off on my rescue mission. “Hi! Sorry to interrupt. Vicky! It’s so good to see you!”
Cass mouths thank you before vanishing in a puff of minty vapor.
“Oh my God! Willa, you gorgeous thing! Hi! Gimme a hug.” I’m distracted by her veneers—they’re astonishingly white.
I should be relieved that the night is going a different way, but the violence of the dream replays in my head, a nightmare I’ll forever be alone with.
I’m sure it’ll fade with time, but time isn’t passing fast enough.
I’m right in front of Vicky and she’s fine, but all I can see is her dying.
Her extensions being ripped out. Her neck getting sliced open on the lawn.
Yes, she made some questionable choices in college. Yes, she’s an easy target because she’s over-the-top superficial with a penchant for filler and a vocal fry. But she’s just out here doing her best. Everyone’s so tough on her.
“You look amazing,” I tell her.
“Stop! You do!” she says. “I was sorry to hear about you and Ravi. I saw him with that girl and was like, what?”
“Yeah.” I’m not sure what else to say.
“Don’t sweat it. You’ll find someone new. Just not before me, I hope! Oh my God, I would die.” She shimmies closer. “Have you met Jason’s friend Danny? He’s hot and single. Yes, please. Dibs! I’m kidding. But I’m not.”
And just like that, I remember why my friends don’t like Vicky. I fake a smile and change the subject. “How’s work going?”
Our conversation gets cut short as we’re urged to find our seats for dinner.
There’s a kitschy sign just inside the doors of the reception hall with a seating chart.
All the college friends—sans Vicky, thank God—are at table four.
I get to the table first, pick the chair at the head.
It’s a strategic choice. It’s tucked away, but I’m not boxed in; my back isn’t to a window, but I can see out of one.
Part of me is still anticipating the sound of a scream at any moment.
Cassie sits next to me. She picks up the menu. “Fucking love a wedge salad.”
“Who doesn’t?” Evan asks, sitting on my other side, Wyatt next to him, Luke next to Cassie. The table is split—us on one side, relatives on the other. Aunts, uncles, cousins.
There’s an odd number of chairs at table four, and I realize it’s my fault. Everyone else is in a pair except for me. Navigating the world alone is not only harder, but also pretty fucking embarrassing.
I sip from the glass of champagne at my place setting even though I know it’s meant to be saved for the toast. Desperate times.
Ravi and Tanya are sat at a table in the opposite corner of the venue, the dance floor a buffer between us.
Tanya is stuck next to Vicky, so maybe there is some justice in the world.
Congrats on your new relationship with my ex-fiancé—have fun hearing about Great Value Barbie’s essential oil business.
A very DJ-looking DJ appears in the booth and tells us to please welcome our bride and groom. Steph and Jace bounce in holding hands. He twirls her. Dips her. Almost drops her. Everyone laughs. I discreetly sip more champagne.
They have their first dance to “Your Song” by Elton John.
Everyone gathers around the dance floor to watch.
I stand at the back of the crowd. About halfway through, people join in singing.
The entire room belting out Elton. Except for me.
And I’m assuming Ravi because he hates this kind of shit.
He’s angled away from me so I can’t see his face.
Again, I wonder if it’s intentional. If he’s purposely avoiding me. If he can’t stand to look at me.
If he’s really moved on, if he’s happy with her, why would he care?
“Anyway, the thing is, what I really mean.” So loud and soooo off-key. “Yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen.”
I see you.
Someone’s watching. I feel it. Slowly, fear-stiff, I turn around, turn to look out the window. Each fraction of a second increasing my abject terror, my certainty that I will be greeted by those stolen eyes.
There is something out the window. But it isn’t the Eyeball Man.
It looks like—looked like, it’s already gone—a floating hat.
A weird, tattered, old-fashioned black top hat.
It was cartoonishly tall, with a wide brim that folded up at the sides.
And I swear I saw a fucking feather sticking out of it.
I take a step closer to the window, my guts twisting, breath hitching deep in my throat.
There’s nothing out there except the path, and the parking lot beyond it, and the woods beyond that.
It was a caterer. Or a bird. A bird. Of-fucking-course. The feathers.
The song fades out. There’s applause. Luke does his obnoxious finger whistle.
I turn back to the dance floor in time to see Jace lift Steph up and spin her around, kiss her.
Now Steph’s dad takes to the dance floor for their father-daughter dance.
It’s painful to plan a wedding when you’re estranged from your parents, but it was two less people I had to worry about disappointing when I called it off.
Ravi’s family had been my family for the last eight years. I’ve lost them, too.
“I’m starving,” Cassie mumbles to me as I come up beside her.
I take another cautious look over my shoulder, out the window. No one’s there. Deep breath. I exhale my neurosis, force it out of my lungs, my body, my mind.
There’s no psychotic murderer stalking the campground. The worst thing that’s going to happen tonight is I’m going to run into Tanya in the bathroom, be forced to make small talk while close enough to notice her imperfections only to realize she doesn’t have any.
I don’t begrudge Cassie for encouraging me to watch all those horror movies, which is without a doubt a contributing factor as to why I had the dream. Because she was right. They did give me perspective.
I’m going to enjoy this night because I’m going to survive it.
Jace has his dance with his mother, and then the DJ instructs us to sit down, and the catering staff brings out the salad course and bottles of wine. I opt for the red. Cassie opts out, which is probably for the best because she’s clearly already drunk.
“I’ll sober up once I eat,” she says, cutting into her wedge.
“Nothing like a wedge salad to soak up all that liquor,” Evan says.
“The hors d’oeuvres were good,” Wyatt says. “You didn’t get any of those little hush puppy things? No mini quiche?”
“There was mini quiche?” Cassie says with a mouthful of iceberg.
“Well, cheers,” Evan says, lifting his glass of Chardonnay.
“Cheers,” Wyatt says. “Happy to be here with you all.”
“Cheers, friends!” Luke says.
Cassie grunts, raising a blue-cheesy fork.
“Hear, hear,” I say.
We clink glasses and I sip my wine, ease back into my seat, dismissing the manic voice in my head that tells me, Look, quick! Look out the window.
—
Dinner is served family-style. We pass around giant wooden bowls of grilled peppers and pesto orecchiette, platters of roasted chicken and herb-crusted salmon and crispy tofu. None of the food is hot, but it all tastes good. We each take second helpings. Cassie sobers up, and Evan gets wine drunk.
After all the plates have been cleared from the table, Luke stands and stretches. I assume he’s preparing to dance, but then he grabs his glass of champagne and says, “It’s showtime.”
“You’re giving the toast?”
He points at me. “Bingo.”
Cass stares regretfully into her empty wineglass. “He’s an infuriatingly good public speaker.”
“No, I know. I just—”
“My husband would have made a great politician if he didn’t love drugs so much.”
“Please. That’s practically a requirement,” Evan says. “The problem isn’t the drugs; it’s that he’s honest. And has no filter or sense of social decency. I’m excited for this.”
Cassie sneaks a hit of her vape, exhaling into her lap.
“Hello!” Luke says, stepping into the middle of the dance floor, holding a wireless mic. He has an easy command of the space. “My name is Luke Hyde, and I’m honored that Stephanie and Jason have asked me to speak tonight.”
“He is very charismatic,” I say. “Maybe he should have been an actor.”
“He can’t be anyone but himself,” Cass says.
“Will you two shush?” Evan says. “I’m trying to listen.”
“I was there at the party when Jace first laid eyes on Steph. I’d only known him for about two weeks at that point—we were roommates our freshman year.
My first impression of him? Strong, silent type.
Always.” Luke makes a serious face—lowers his brows, frowns.
“Which was fine, because I could talk enough for the both of us. Right, buddy?”
Jace shakes his head. Steph giggles. Her eyes shine—she’s got that Steph sparkle. A glass or two of wine. She’s a lightweight—that’s all it takes.
“He’d be trying to fall asleep or do an assignment and I’d be like, Hey, man, what’s your favorite color?
Who’s your favorite Mortal Kombat character?
Do you like ice-cream sandwiches? I’d get one-word responses.
Green. Scorpion. Yes. Do you want to go to a party tonight?
No. It took some convincing to get him out of the dorm.
I think he probably only agreed to shut me up.
I told him, ‘You’ll thank me later,’ and here we are. ”
“Thanks, dude,” Jace says.
“He saw her from across the room and he locked in. Everything changed. His posture. His demeanor. He smiled! He laughed! She brought out the best in him in an instant. Because that’s what Steph does.
She brings out the best in everyone, because she is the best of all of us.
Sweet, patient, secretly mischievous. A perfect match for Jace, who can protect her, look out for her, save her from falling for phishing scams and stop her from adopting every rescue animal in New England.
They have the same strange sense of humor, which is good because none of the rest of us gets it.
And that’s cool! We don’t need to. Watching you two laugh makes us laugh.
Watching you two happy makes us happy. We’re all lucky to be here today.
We thank you for this evening, for this weekend.
It’s not easy to stay together when you’re finding your way in the world and figuring out who you are.
To grow up together,” he says. He raises his glass.
“Love isn’t for the faint of heart. It takes bravery and trust and vulnerability and hard work.
Communication and sacrifice. Commitment. ”
I shift in my seat. I wish I’d brought my cigarettes.
“Even for the two people who made me believe in love at first sight. Even for two people who are meant to be together, cosmically, like you guys are. Your commitment to each other is inspiring. It’s an honor to bask in the light of your love. To the happy couple. To love!”
“To love!” the crowd says.
I toss back the measly last sip of my champagne.
Luke gives the mic back to the DJ, who says something about getting the party started. I don’t feel like dancing. I’m not drunk enough yet.
“Lucas,” Evan says, standing to greet him. “I’m so impressed.”
“Cass helped.” Luke puts his arm around his wife and pulls her in for a kiss on the cheek.
“I told you to cut out any mention of the cosmos,” she says. “Space cadet.”
He salutes her.
“I’m going to run to the bathroom,” I lie. I’m going to get my cigarettes.
“I’ll go with you,” Cass says.
“No. I mean…you can, if you want. But I’m going back to the cabin. I…”
“Okay,” she says. “Fine. Go smoke.”
“Anyone need anything from the cabin? Yes? No?” I don’t give them a chance to answer. I’m up, heading out the door.
I make my escape.