Foolish Summer | ✔

28 • W A V E R L Y • 😐

My dad plopped down on the couch beside me, sinking into cushions and crossing his arms over his chest.

I guessed he was trying to be funny. I uncrossed my arms and sat up a little. My sulking wasn't on purpose, it just happened. It was my mom's fault.

Two days ago, she came into my room while I was in the middle of reading—okay, I staring at the pages of the book while my mind wandered back to a boy I had no business thinking about.

She looked nervous, guilty almost as she sat at the foot of my bed. "Hey, baby."

"Hey..." I waited for her to say whatever she came to say. When my eyes caught sight of the envelope in her hand, I already knew.

I'd recognize the envelope anywhere. Naomi and I stuffed and sealed almost 300 of them. My fingers stung as I thought about the paper cuts I had to endure because of it.

She caught me staring at it and held it up. "She invited the whole family."

When my mom got back from Burbank I thought she'd be done with Shontell Davis. I'd overheard phone conversations between them a few times and it wasn't about wedding stuff.

Apparently, Shontell didn't know how teens were and needed help connecting with her own son. After hearing my mom explain to her the difference between talking to and talking at, I asked why she didn't refer Shontell to a therapist.

"It takes a village," my mom said.

I figured it was more than that when a Louis Vuitton purse arrived at the door with a Thank You note from Shontell. Expensive purses for parenting advice felt like fair trade off.

"I know something happened between you and Stephen this summer," she said. "So, if you don't want to go, I'll understand. But I think it be nice to see the wedding we put together in action."

I was prepared to tell her no, that I didn't want anything to do with the Davis family ever again, but when she put it like that....

We spent two months on that wedding, working at warp speed picking colors and flower arrangements. It'd be a shame not to see how all the work came together.

That was how I ended up sulking on the couch, dressed up and counting down the seconds. Soon, I'll be in the same room as Stephen. If he'd even be at the wedding. He hadn't seemed excited about his mom's marriage at all.

Mom was still trying to drag Bryce away from his video games and get him dressed. Dad, apparently, thought it'd a good time to mimic me while we waited.

He continued by sitting up and uncrossing his arms just like I had done.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

I whined "Dad!".

He whined "Dad!".

Despite the giant ball of nerves in my stomach, I laughed. He grinned triumphantly. "That always got you to laugh," he said. "Now, why have you been moping around the last two days?"

"As a sixteen-year-old I am required to mope at least once a month," I said. "Keeps my skin clear."

He chuckled, but he wasn't taking that for answer. Thankfully Mom and a fully dressed Bryce came down the hall.

I didn't want to tell my dad that in four hours I was going to see the boy who broke my heart.

It had been almost three weeks since I last saw him. I had hoped the distance would make it easier to forget him, but the smallest things caused him to take over my thoughts.

Like the other day when I was at Walmart, I found a puzzle of The Breakfast Club, that movie Stephen and I watched the day we met. It was about teens in detention, but the actors looked like they were pushing thirty.

There was zero reason for me to buy it—I didn't even like puzzles. Still, it took me getting to check out before I removed it from my cart.

It was like a part of me refused to let Stephen and that summer go. I wished I could forget him and move on.

Hopefully, after the wedding, I could do just that.

• • •

For what I believed was the first time that year, it was raining. Men in suits and women in heels rushed from their cars to entrance of the of the banquet hall. Good thing Shontell choose to have an indoor wedding.

Mom and her flat ironed hair frowned at the fat raindrops hitting the windshield. I'm sure I was making the same face. My first successful bantu knot out and it was about to be ruined by rain.

Dad instructed Bryson to give his suit jacket to Mom while he handed his to me. My hair was a lot poofier than Mom's and Bryson's jacket would've been too small to cover it. Then, the four of us made a run for it.

We made it inside with minimal damage to our hair and gave the guys their jackets back. In the all the commotion I forgot about where we were until I saw him.

His back was to me and I told myself it wasn't him because there was no way I memorized the back of some guys head, but I did.

Stephen was talking to his friend, who's name I still couldn't remember, so he remained Killmonger in my head. When the two of them walked off in the opposite direction I allowed myself to breathe.

I needed to pull myself together. So what if I saw Stephen? Who cared? Definitely not me! I pushed my shoulders back and smoothed my hands over the skirt of my cream-colored dress. I wasn't going to let a boy stress me out all day.

The four of us found seats near the back of the room. When I last saw that place it looked impossibly huge. Now, with over 200 people inside it seemed small. And it got smaller as more and more people filled in. No way Naomi and I sent out that many invitations.

It was a good hour and a half hour before the ceremony started. Bryce and I were in the middle of a game of Uno! with two girls behind us when the live band began to play.

The groom's men filed in two at a time. One of them was Stephen. My heart did a series of flips in my chest as I he walked by, looking especially good in a tux. He hadn't seen me, not until he was in place up at the altar.

When our eyes locked it was like everything went still. I wished I could hate him. That I could've turned away and acted as if I hadn't even seen him, but I couldn't. All I could think about was how much I missed him.

It was going to be a long day.