I Love You . . . I Guess

Swedish Meatballs and the Pillsbury Dough Boy

Hello people!!! Sorry it has taken so long for an update, but college is hard and they give out homework. Who knew right?! So here is the next chapter for I Love You . . . I Guess. Thank you so much for checking out my story, I really appreciate it. The song for this chapter is Red Lights by Jayme Dee. Please read, comment, vote, or recommend. Thank You!!!! Enjoy!

P.S.- If you see any names that you think may need to be switched, please tell me. I am trying to remember to write Vi, but I wrote from Low's perspective for so long, it just seeps through sometimes. Okay, I'll shut up now, enjoy!

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Chapter 2: Swedish Meatballs and the Pillsbury Dough Boy

Vi

To say that I am excited is an understatement. When Low called me a couple of months ago and screamed on the phone she was getting married, I almost passed out from excitement. 

“Vi?”

“One sec!”

I make one last snip on Gale’s hair before turning my attention to Alicia. Our receptionist holds up the phone at the front desk and waves for me to come to her. She is practically jumping up and down from excitement. What is going on?

“I’m sorry. I’ll be right back Gale,” I apologize.

“No problem honey,” the middle aged woman says. She fluffs her little bob with her hands as I walk away. I take the phone out of Alicia’s hand and place it up to my ear. 

“Hello?”

A large scream on the other side of the line almost causes me to drop the phone. Ow, what the hell?! I grip it firmly in my hand and listen to the squeals of excitement. 

“Vi?!”

“Low? What’s going on?” I ask.

“Guess what the fuck happened last night!”

“You found a good swedish meatball recipe on the Food Network?”

“You finally get to be my maid of honor!”

I takes a minute for me to process her words before all of the sudden I am screaming right along with her. Everyone in the salon is looking at me curiously right now, but I don’t give a shit. My best friend’s getting married!I’ve been waiting for this day for forever.

“Wait, you are marrying my cousin right?”

“No, I’m marrying the Pillsbury Dough Boy you idiot. Of course I’m marrying Seth! He asked me last night!”

“Why didn’t you call me then?” I say slightly offended.

“Well, we kind of had other things on the mind, if you know what I mean.”

“Ew! Okay, seriously, that is my cousin. I don’t want to know all about your guys freaky sex life. Ugh, I think I’m going to be sick.”

Low just laughs on the other side of the line. Well, I’m glad she finds my uneasiness and slightly nauseated stomach amusing.

“Ah! I can’t believe I’m getting married, and you are going to be my maid of honor. This is going to be awesome. You have to help me plan the whole thing!”

And that was when I had to step in and remind her that I lived in Portland. She told me that it was find and that we could plan together over the phone, but I could tell she was disappointed that I wasn’t going to be there with her throughout the whole process. We had always spent so much time together over the years, but since she left for college and I moved to Portland, I saw her maybe once or twice a year. I felt guilty and it showed.