The Fast Lane

Chapter 3

I arrived in Charlotte half an hour after the rehearsal dinner began.  My sister’s fiancé, Mark, was right in the middle of his speech to my sister when I walked through the obnoxiously large and squeaky door in the back of the elegant hotel ballroom.  Everyone in the room turned to look at me, and Mark gave me a weak smile and kept going with his speech.  My sister Jenna, on the other hand, shot me a nasty glare. 

The rest of the night was slow.  The speeches from friends and family members were boring and I was tired of hearing about how “lucky” Mark was and how beautiful my sister was.  After the speeches, the waiters and waitresses brought out our food, which was cold.  My sister put me at a table with a bunch of older couples (on purpose) who kept asking me about things I didn’t want to talk about.  How was my boyfriend? Fine I guess. I didn’t tell anyone about the breakup.  How was school?  Fine i guess.  I didn’t tell anyone I was failing.  Was I excited for my sister? Yes. But not really.  Just happy that she had someone new to yell at now. 

After dinner I started to get up from my table to excuse myself, but I stopped when I felt a small, warm hand on my shoulder.  ”You didn’t think you could sneak in and out without saying hello to me, did you?” My mother smiled at me weakly.  I embraced her shortly.  I didn’t like hugs, and she knew that.  ”How was the drive? Did Alex come with you? Oh I do hope so,”  She looked at me and spoke quietly, almost as to not upset me.  I hadn’t talked to her in so long.

 ”No, mom actually I came with someone else,” I lied. “He’s just a friend though… you know… Alex was a little busy this weekend and I knew you would flip if I came alone,” I shifted uncomfortably and laughed awkwardly.  I could tell my mom was sad that Alex wasn’t there.

"Well where is the fella you brought with you?" She asked. 

I was stupid.  I should have just said I came alone.

"He, uh. He got carsick on the way up so he’s upstairs in the room laying down.  I hope he’s better by tomorrow.  That would be a real stinker if he couldn’t come to the wedding," I laughed awkwardly again. 

"Yes.  That would suck seeing as I already spent time and money letting you bring a guest." My sister had walked up behind me.  "I should have told you that you weren’t allowed to bring anyone." I turned to look down at her.  She was already shorter than I was, but my red heels helped me to tower over her, making me feel like I had some sort of advantage if we got into an argument.  Her brown eyes were dark and full of anger. 

"How dare you show up late and cause a scene like that in the middle of Mark’s speech!  You owe us both an apology," she whispered fiercely. I glared at her and began to snap back at her when suddenly my mom grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the bathroom. 

"Tristan, dear, please come help me fix my dress. Jenna, honey we’ll be right back," she tugged my arm.  I knew she didn’t want us to get into it right in the middle of the guests, so I reluctantly turned and followed her to the bathroom.  The rest of the night was uneventful.  I followed my mom around most of the night because she wouldn’t let me sit down.  She talked to everyone and anyone who would talk to her.  My sister started yelling at me after the guests had gone again about being late and "this is why I wasn’t the maid of honor" (I’m sure that wasn’t the only reason) and that "I’m ruining her weekend" and all this other stuff.  If my mom hadn’t been standing there and I wasn’t wiped out from the 9 hour drive, I would have yelled back, but I didn’t.  Instead, I got up, walked out of the room despite the many threats I got from Jenna in regards to turning my back on her, and went to my room to sleep.  

The wedding the next morning was short and sweet.  The weather was nice, and I have to admit the peach color of our bridesmaid dresses that Jenna picked didn’t look as terrible as I thought they might have. The wind was blowing, but it was more of a cool breeze than anything unbearable. Jenna looked unusually relaxed, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had taken muscle relaxers or smoked a joint that morning before the wedding. Her short blonde hair kept getting stuck to her bright red lipstick, but she didn’t seem to care.