𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 & 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 ━ girl meets world²

10│AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER

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❛ ʟᴇᴀᴛʜᴇʀ & ʟᴀᴄᴇ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚  ▎❛ 𝐓𝐄𝐍 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʏ ʟɪᴠᴇᴅ
ʜᴀᴘᴘɪʟʏ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ꒱


❝ I WAS JUST
THINKING IT MIGHT
BE HARD TO DANCE
ONCE YOU'RE IN JAIL.
YOU KNOW, FOR MURDER ❞

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The call came in as an unknown number and at first, Juliet didn't pick it up. Then her phone rang again. And again. And again— the same number each time. Sighing and figuring it was some kind of prank Cory was pulling on her, Juliet answered with a terse 'hello?' and was surprised to hear Jack's voice on the other side. After catching up for some time, she queried, when there was a lull in the conversation, "so, why did you really call me?"

Jack feigned offense. "'What? Can't a guy call his ex-girlfriend just to see how she is?'"

"I suppose you could," she allowed in a deceptively understanding tone before she added pointedly, "if this wasn't the first time we've talked since I saw you at Topanga's over a year ago and your big wedding wasn't on the horizon."

"'How do you know about that?'" he wondered, more startled than anything else.

"You're marrying Riley's best friend's mom. You'd think I'd be bound to hear about it at some point," she reasoned dryly, "even if I do live on the other side of the ocean for most of the year."

He let out a breath. "'Word gets around fast.'"

Juliet arched a brow even though he couldn't see her. "Jack, you didn't really call to talk about gossip, did you?"

There was a pause, long enough that she thought the call had dropped. Then, finally, his voice came through, quieter. "'I. . . actually need your help.'"

"My help? With what?"

"'The wedding,'" he admitted, almost shyly.

She snorted. "Aren't you supposed to work with your soon-to-be-wife on that?"

"'I know, I know,'" Jack stated quickly, almost tripping over himself. "'And I want to— of course I want to— but, Juliet, you know Katy. She. . . she's been through a lot. Her last husband bailed on her and I don't want her to think I'd do something like that. Part of me's scared she's not even going to believe this is real until she's standing at the alter and I'm there, too.'"

Juliet's sarcasm softened. He wasn't faking this; his voice cracked around the edges. "So you want me to help make it real."

He let out a shaky laugh. "'Exactly. If you help me plan it— if you help me keep my head on straight— maybe I can prove to her this is really happening.'"

She sighed, rubbing at her temple. "You really know how to pick the impossible favors, don't you?"

"'I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't important.'"

Juliet leaned back in her chair, staring up at the ceiling. "Alright. Fine. I'll help you You better not turn into a bridezilla on me, though. One was enough."

He chuckled at that, the relief in his voice palpable as he replied, "'thank you. And I won't.'" There was another pause and Juliet could almost hear him hesitating on the other end. Then he added, voice unusually nervous: "'and, uh. . . would you. . . be my best man?'"

Juliet froze, her lips twitching despite herself. "Well, I would," she drawled, "but there's just one problem." She waited a beat to let him stew in anxiety, then finished: "I'm not a man."