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“Okay, but if you step on my dress one more time, I’m going to kill you, literally. I will take this fork and stab you in a place you don’t want to be stabbed,” Max growls at me, her teeth looking even more white than usual with the dark lipstick she chose to wear with her navy-blue dress. Her hair’s still that burgundy color, the one that she’s kept for months and months now, adding to the whole witchy vibe to her outfit.
Which wouldn’t make sense at a traditional wedding, but this is Vick’s wedding, and it’s happening during Halloween weekend.
I’m so freaking excited it’s unreal.
Guests are allowed to dress up but still look glamorous, and since we’re such a tight-knit family and Vick is afraid of crowds on a good day, we top maybe a hundred people that’ll show up at the reception later on today.
We girls are at Vick’s apartment, all five of us, and the aunts and my mom are hanging around and making food for everybody so that we don’t let this champagne hit us so hard that we end up not showing up at church. Which would be unfortunate.
Vick has yet to step into her dress, and I’m drinking my flute of champagne while checking out how my ass fills out my snazzy suit that I bought specifically for this occasion, going for a glamorous vibe, and my mask is waiting to be tied by Callum once we all meet up at the church.
The bathroom door opens, and Vick looks at us, misery stamped all over her face.
“I want to die. We had too much to drink last night, and I want to die. At this point there’s a possibility that I’m going to walk to church ‘cause there’s no way I’m getting in a moving vehicle—” Vick puts a fist to her mouth, closes her eyes, and concentrates while there’s a hush around the room, the rest of us holding our breath and waiting for the conclusion of the battle of wills: Vick vs. Vick’s stomach.
She sighs, and then opens her eyes and whines, “Why did you two give me so much to drink? Honestly! What the fuck! How am I supposed to look Michael in the face and tell him I want to spend the rest of my life with him when I feel like I’m going to yak every two seconds? Why did you do this to me?”
“Honestly, though, I don’t think it was the alcohol,” Amber says, grabbing on to Vick’s shoulders and peering into her face, doing her assessment thing. “I think you ate something that bothered you. We had five bottles of wine for all five of us, and Izzy was the one that was sucking it back more than any of us. It’s not the alcohol, it’s not.”
Amber looks over at my sister, and Max just shrugs, twirling her hair between her fingers so the goddess waves stay in place and look incredibly elegant with the flower crown she has on, like some kind of old-world deity that I don’t know the name for.
“I’ve got a whole entire pharmacy in my purse,” Max says, pointing at the purse and the tiny suitcase she brought over to do everybody’s makeup, and honestly, my sister has a lot of talent. How did I not see that besides shit-posting comments every once in a while?
“Anti-nausea medication, anti-diarrhea meds, and of course, there’s ginger ale in the fridge. Drink some for now. We don’t have to leave for another couple of hours anyway.”
Vick practically vaults over the kitchen counter and nearly throws her own mother out of the kitchen while getting to the fridge, crowing in victory when she gets out two chilled cans of Canada Dry, holding them close like a mother would hold her newborn.
I’m already starting to sweat, and I keep checking my phone, waiting for Callum to signal me from his bat cave (his apartment that is his very own fortress or whatever it’s called) to let me know when we’re going to meet, since I’m taking the wedding party designated car to the church, and then Vick and Michael are taking the limo over to the reception, where they’ll take pictures outside, but probably (definitely) need some time alone after being the center of attention for like an hour.
Honestly, I don’t know how Vick is going to make it.
I grin when Callum’s and Luna’s faces pop up on my screen, and I swipe the call open and press it to my ear.
“Hi, sweetheart,” I say, knowing that my brooding boyfriend who looks like he can kill people with his glare alone is definitely blushing in his Tower of Solitude and grinning because I called him sweetheart. “How are you?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that question? How are you doing over there?”
I snort. “I don’t know what you think is going on, but we’re not going to kill each other. Well, my sister might pluck out one of my eyeballs if I step on her dress again, but you know me, I like to live dangerously.”
“Baby, I like exactly where your eyes are, though.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m sitting down, and Max is checking on her makeup, like always.” I roll my eyes and get smacked with a pillow for my comedic timing. What’s even worse is that my own mother is the one that knocks me over the head with a couch cushion and I barely survive. At least my hair’s low maintenance—stick straight and slick.
“How’s our daughter?” I ask, and I can my mom murmuring ‘A dog is not a daughter!’ but I choose to ignore it. Fur babies are babies, case closed.
“She’s good. She knows I’m going to leave soon, so she keeps bringing me her walking collar and her leash and waiting by the door. I swear, sometimes I think she’s human; she keeps looking at me like she understands every single word that’s coming out of my mouth. Yeah, Luna, I’m talking about you, girl, I am,” Callum’s speech devolves into smooches and baby-talk to our girl, and honestly it warms me right through. He’s so freaking adorable, but he’s not here so I can express my affection by tackling him to the ground and smothering him with kisses and cuddles.
Love is a dangerous game, we all know that.
“I’m kinda sad that you’re gonna leave her behind for the night, but Eric is going to babysit for us?”
“Yeah, of course. She won’t be by herself. Ah, shit, Luna’s giving me the eyes.”
“What do you mean?” I glance up at the ceiling, knowing I have a smile on my face, knowing that it’s on my face and everyone can see how very happy Callum (and Luna) makes me.
“Baby, her eyes, holy shit. She’s somehow made them bigger, she looks like a baby about to cry because I’m putting on my dress pants and she just dropped the leash out of her mouth and is staring up at me like I’m never coming home again.”
“Hey, don’t joke about that shit, all right? Please?”
“Sorry, sorry. I’m gonna wait for Eric and then I’ll meet you there at...two-thirty?”
“You better give Luna a thousand kisses from me.”
“Shit, guess I gotta get to work,” he says, and I can hear his grin over the phone.
“Yeah, get to it. I’ll see you in a bit.” I go to disconnect the call but end up just leaving it pressed to my ear, heart starting to thump harder, faster, holding my breath. “Callum?”
“Yeah, I’m still here.”
“Uh, why aren’t you hanging up?”
“I don’t know, guess I wanted to hear your voice for a little bit longer.”
“You really like me a whole lot, huh?” I’m smiling so hard, my cheeks hurt.
“Baby, I love you. A lot. More than Luna, that’s for sure.”
I gasp. “Just because you’re bigger than our daughter doesn’t mean that you can possibly love me more,” I huff, waiting for us to disconnect the call, but nobody’s willing to cut it short. “Now what?”
Callum coughs, but it sounds like he’s trying to stifle a laugh, and I’m immediately suspicious. “Don’t you have anything to say to me, Iz?”
“Uh...” I say, tuning in to the conversation around me, the way my aunts and mom are staring at me with all-knowing grins, the way my sister’s smiling so hard she might pull something in her face.
“Nope, not right now. Nope, I’ve got nothing to say at this very moment in time. Please call back again,” I say quickly, then disconnect the call, shoving my phone face down on the couch and refusing to think about how shy I got about telling Callum I love him.
It’s all happened so very fast, but it feels like I’ve been waiting for him for a long time, too. Feels a little bit like timing and fate and all those words that kind of mean the same thing.
I get flak for it, of course I do, me, the one with the biggest mouth who can’t tell her boyfriend she loves him in a crowded room.
At the end of the two hours, Vick is feeling better enough to eat some salted crackers, and then she’s finally putting on her dress, and it’s a lot, a hell of a lot, and I don’t know which one of us idiots starts sniffling first, but it sets us all off like a trail of dominoes falling one after the other.
I’m biting my lip hard enough to draw blood, and even then, my eyes are welling up with tears no matter how much Max is threatening all of us with death and despair if anyone one of us cries and wipes our faces (and our makeup) off.
“Shut up, Max, let me live. This is a happy moment. Here, everybody just lean over and look down at the carpet, and the tears will fall right off,” Amber suggests, and we all follow suit, sticking our heads together as if we’re a team discussing the next play.
“Ah, shit, is it working for anyone else? Do I have to get lower?” Vick groans, and her blue head is a little bit beneath my own vantage point and we’re all sniffling fast and hard, trying to chase away any impending snot bombs as it were. “Okay, we’re good, we’re good. Who knew it would set off everyone’s eyeballs when I stepped into my wedding dress, huh?”
“Shut up, we’re having a moment,” Max says through clenched teeth, and I know she’s probably having the hardest time out of all of us. “Let us have the moment, Vick. You’re getting married, and you look like a princess even though you didn’t want a cupcake dress and you look really good, and I’m happy—” Max keeps rambling and sniffing harder and harder in between every single word.
“Nobody sounds like they’re happy,” Evie stresses. “Look at my glasses, even dirtier than before, and I have no idea how that happens.”
“Weren’t you gonna wear your contacts?” Vick asks. “Or are your eyes bothering you?”
“I forgot to put them in when Max started my makeup and now I’m afraid to mess anything up,” Evie says, and then gets vertical as we all pull out of our bowing at the waist to look at each other, tears being carefully and gently knuckled away and thrown off into space.
“Evie, come on, let’s go to the bathroom, put the contacts in, and you can use your glasses for later.”
Max and Evie disappear into the bathroom, and then Vick’s pulling on the long sleeves of her dress, frowning down at her shoulders.
“Weren’t you supposed to stop working out this past month? Did your shoulders get bigger? Shit, when the hell was the last fitting? They were supposed to fix this!” Aunt Lisa groans, slapping down on Vick’s shoulders as if they’re balloons that are going to deflate from the pressure alone. Pretty sure it doesn’t work like that, like at all.
“I did! I’ve been eating like a pig! Well, not really because I knew I needed to fit into this dress, but shit, my shoulder caps look good,” Vick says, grinning down at her shoulders and then whirling before we can finish up the pretty (and intricate) buttons at her back and looking at her reflection.
“Oh no, I look beautiful. Oh, shit, my eyes are going to leak again!” Vick yells, and there’s an inhuman screech coming from the bathroom that can only be my sister, unwilling to re-do everyone’s makeup after she’s done it twice now (for free!).
“It’s fine, it’s fine!” Vick yells back, as if the two have their own language that only they can understand. “It’s gonna be fine!”
My sister comes out of the bathroom, lips pulled back in a snarl, and I have the fleeting thought that it’s gonna ruin her lipstick, but also knowing my sister, she knows how to apply lipstick in a way that it’s gonna stick around until it decides to come off.
“Why are you so stressed?” I ask, and nearly get snapped in two when my sister glares at me with a fiery stare. It’s a wonder why I’m not ablaze, actually.
“Why am I so stressed? Why am I so stressed? The bride is officially half an hour late! We should have left a while ago, and now the whole schedule is shot to shit.”
I shake my head but take a hasty step back in case my sister wants to take out her frustration in physical form on my body. I would like to keep my head attached to my neck and shoulders, please and thank you.
“All right, all right. Shit, sorry I asked, my God.” I hold my hands up in a classic freeze position, and then my aunt and Vick are having a tender moment along with Evie, and everybody looks like they’re going to start crying again.
“No, no. We really have to go. Come on, Vick, you better suck it up.”
“I can’t! I’m marrying Michael. Do you know how lucky I am?”
“Do you know how lucky he is?” Amber supplies, but Vick waves her off, not willing to hear that kind of slander against her soon-to-be-husband.
Shit, Vick’s making it legal. Wow. One huge step for the Prewitt cousins and another giant step for Vick. Wow, wow, wow.
“All right, think about all the luck in the world.” Max is looking down at her phone, a fanatical gleam in her eyes, and honestly I don’t know how Logan, her boyfriend, can constantly look at her with heart eyes when she’s clearly off her rocker—in the best way possible, of course.
“Yes! The limo’s here. Everyone get your asses downstairs. Pile into that elevator, and I swear if we get stuck, I’m going to break through the doors myself using nothing but my bare hands,” Max growls, ushering everyone out, all of us nabbing our purses, checking for our phones, and Aunt Lisa’s locking up behind us as we pile into the hall.
“Why did you have to say that, Max?” Evie groans. “Now the thought is in my head. It wasn’t in my head before, and now it is. What the hell?”
“We don’t have time for a meltdown right now. Move your ass,” Max says through clenched teeth, and honestly, we move.
The ceremony goes by without a hitch despite the Prewitt side being late.
Which I mean, isn’t that big of a deal since nothing can really start without the bride. Max should look more relaxed, but she keeps checking the slim and elegant watch on her wrist, standing up there on the dais with Vick and Amber, and Michael, Logan and Brody, the wedding party of the century, and practically fidgeting on the spot.
Hell, maybe she has to pee.
I’m holding Callum’s hand in the front pew, watching my cousin kiss the ever-loving breath right out of her husband, and when she lets him go and gives him the world’s most beaming smile, I’m pretty sure his flustered blush can be seen from outer space.
It’s adorable and cute, and I can’t help smiling at the pair of them. I turn to find Callum looking at me, something like a mischievous gleam in his eye as we all stand up and start clapping for them watching my cousin and her husband walk down the aisle and get pelted with rice.
“What? What is it?” I ask, tilting my head at him like the way Luna does when she doesn’t understand something right off the bat. “Do I have rice in my hair?” I ask frowning, but Callum’s free hand is coming up to pluck some of the grains off my scalp and then he’s smoothing down my hair, his hand moving to the side of my face, looking down at me like I’m his most treasured possession (well, besides Luna).
He leans down to kiss me softly, but it still makes my ankles weak, and if it weren’t for him letting go of my hand and wrapping his arm around my waist, I’m pretty sure I’d be the one on the floor.
“Well, okay, pretty sure you’re not allowed to kiss me like that in church, buddy.” I laugh and kiss him once more, and twice more for good luck, and I always need all the luck I can get. I smooth my hand over his short hair in the way he likes, feeling him sag a little against me at the gentle touch.
“Not that I’m complaining, but is there a particular reason that I’m getting the kiss of the century at my cousin’s wedding? Asking for a friend. Me. I’m that friend.”
Callum laughs and kisses me again until my mom has to break us up like we’re a couple of teenagers who can’t keep their hands off each other.
And honestly, it’s a YES from me.
“No reason, just wanted to kiss you.”
“Oh, well, keep them coming forevermore,” I say, waving a hand into the distance and grinning at him.
His answering grin makes me think that he’s definitely going to keep that promise.
Forever.
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Fin
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LOOKING FOR THE REST of the day from Vick’s point of view? Check out Cuffed for Life here.
If you’ve been following since Never Been Kissed, read on for a sneak peek of the next installment Never Been #5.
To check out my other series, click away:
Never Been #5 (pre-order)
