Harassenger: Backseat Admirer ✔️

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

As much as I wanted to bathe in the chocolate fountain in the ballroom, I bathed in my disappointment instead. I wanted to stay by the food all night, but I had guests to greet and people I had to pretend to be nice to you when all I wanted to do was sulk.

I greeted some of Holt's family, and stopped for awhile to talk to his grandmother. She adored me and thought that Holt and I would end up together. She was as devastated as I was when the news came out that he proposed to Della on a helicopter ride into the Grand Canyon. How romantic.

I was going to greet Della's side of the family, but none seemed interested in joining in on the wedding festivities, keeping to themselves during the wedding.

As bride finished cutting her six tier cake, I found myself grabbing a tall glass of beer and found my friend, Trixie. We were originally supposed to go together, but I wasn't ready when she called to pick me up.

She sat in her chair, watching as the ice began to sink in her drink. Her black hair, cut to her shoulders, hid her eyes as they began to close from boredom.

"Hey." I scooted out a chair and sat on the hard surface.

"Oh, hey girl. Your speech was a tear jerker, and I absolutely loved it. I hate to say that under the circumstances, but..." Trixie knew about my crush on Holt since freshman year of high school. I was Peter Pan chasing after a shadow, so it wasn't hard to come to the conclusion I was obsessed with Holt.

"It's okay, Trixie; I'll take the compliment." I gave her a cheesy smile, but she didn't notice because her eyes were now peeled to her phone. She was crazy about her boyfriend, always texting him and obsessing over where he was every moment of the day. She claimed he was her 'best friend', and when I pretended I was jealous, she clarified that he was her man and I was her lady. We both had a good laugh, you know, until she started texting him again.

"It's a wedding. Can't you put the phone down? It's not like your man wasn't offered to come."

She sighed, setting her phone on the white linen table and begrudgingly staring at the girl across from us on her phone. Her eyes trace the room and her mouth dropped. She keeps her mouth opened like that and her gums will be the size of her face.

"Uhm, Natt, are my Asian eyes deceiving me? Who's the hunky dude walking over here and why is he smiling at you?" The guy she was referring to was Mick Conrad and all of his six foot four stature. I had to admit he cleaned up nicely. He was sharply dressed with his buttoned shirt folded to his elbow and his work slacks nicely ironed. His hair, spit-gelled or not, looked nice. In the ride over, he did some real work on his appearance and I was impressed.

Trixie ogled him, but I held myself back from doing so. Shouldn't Trixie be focusing on her own man right now? It's been, what, five seconds? I was surprised to know Trixie didn't know who Mick was, and I did. Usually, she's the FBI when it comes to men. Maybe it's because he looks a little different than he used. I remember him being skinnier, less muscle mass, and now he was more gorgeous than ever. I guess after he fell off the face of the earth, he changed for the better, like we all has since high school.

"Hello, ladies." He greeted, taking a seat without being offered.

"Well, hello." Trixie flirted.

"Aren't you going to introduce me, Natt? I'm Mick Conrad, Natt's date."

"What!?" Trixie bellowed.

"No, no. I picked him up on the road."

"Come again?!"

"She means she picked me up because I was having issues with my truck. So now I'm crashing the wedding." He explained, unwrapping a straw on the table and putting it between his thin lips.

"Mhm." I answered by default.

"Well, crash away. Natt needed a date, and I'm sure no one here minds you're here. Oh, except maybe for him." Trixie pointed a polished nail behind Mick's shoulder where Holt stood.

"Hey, Holt. Congratulations." I exclaimed.

"Thanks. Your speech was killer, and I can tell Della loved it." He appeared to have sober up, so I chose not to mention the heated moment between us earlier. Not that I could with all of these people here.

Holt took the seat next to Mick at the table, and Mick looked directly toward me, his eyebrow raised with a sense of knowing that Holt was the guy.

"Who's this?" Holt nodded his head toward Mick, waiting for someone to answer.

"I'm Mick Conrad. Congratulations, man."

Mick moved to shake Holt's hand, but Holt didn't budge, oddly enough.

"I didn't exactly ask for your name. I asked who you were."

Mick was unwavered in his seat, taking no offense.

"I'm a friend of Natt's. I think you were in my gym class one year, when the juniors practiced with the senior class."

"Oh yeah. I guess this friendship of you and Natt is fairly new. I've never seen you around."

"Oh, we go way back." Way back to an hour ago! Mick was stoking the fire and I had to cut in before things between to men, filled with male bravado, got out of hand.

"Oh look, she's tossing the bouquet! Holt, don't miss out. Trixie, come with me!" I pulled on Trixie's hand, trying to get her to come along. Under long lashes, her eyes met mine with a sense of understanding as she followed me to the dance floor.

Of course, we were the shortest ones there so of course we would end up standing in the back of the girls.

I watched as Della faked the bouquet toss, pretending to throw it to her eager friends. But then she tossed the flowers again, the bouquet flying between Trixie and me. Trixie lunged forward and around her, elbows and knees frolic forward, pushing and pulling others down, my own limp body catching no sympathy. I was hemmed into a deep, blue sea of crazy guests.

Fatigue crept over Trixie and her once positive attitude gave way, and in the process, her leg did, too. She succumbed to her urge to stop, her knees buckling as she crumbled to the ground like grains of sand.

Somehow, the bouquet of fresh flowers landed directly into my hands, a mixture of happiness and deadly grunts rose from the crowd. Trixie congratulated me for doing nothing, then walked away to wrap her wounded leg up with ice.

"Ah, you caught it!" The bride ran towards me, wrapping her greedy hands around me.

"Yeah, I guess I did, huh?"

"Oh, that's great! I guess this means you're getting married next. I'm so excited because there's a lifelong tradition in my family. Whoever catches the bouquet, and is single, must be set up on multiple blind dates, picked by the bride, which is moi, until she finds the love of her life. Aren't you excited?" Wait, what? Oh no, I am not going on a date with any men of her choosing. What kind of tradition is that?

"No, I don't think I can do that."

"Of course you can. My family is still in town and I can set you up on a few dates with my cousins and/or friends. It'll be grand!" Grand for who? No, I don't need her to set up a date for me. I don't...

"She'll do it." A hand went around my shoulder, and the deep voice seemingly too familiar. It was Mick who agreed for me, his musky cologne intoxicating me on the side.

"Oh, yay! So good to hear!"

"Yeah, so good." I gave her a thumbs up and a fake smile as she skipped away in her thousand dollar frock of a bird's nest dress.

As she was out of sight, I turned to face Mick, slamming my open-toe heel on his knee cap. He assumed I was going to hit him on the foot, but I was smarter than him to know he wouldn't feel it with those big boots.

He squinted with pain, his tan face reddening.

"What? I was trying to help you out." He said.

"Next time, don't."