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When I walk towards the dining table in Calum's apartment the volume in the room increases with every step I take. I place my clipboard down on the table and take a seat beside Calum who places his hand on my thigh as he leans back in his chair. I clear my throat and place my clamped hands on the tabletop. "Welcome to this year's official Friendsgiving logistics meeting."
"I was forced to attend," Luke announces and Emma who sits beside him slaps his arm.
"As you and Calum are providing the location for this year's festivities it's only right that the two of you are present during this crucial stage in the planning process."
Emma nods in agreement. "It's like if you're doing a full face of makeup but you completely skip out on applying the foundation. You need the foundation, and we're like the founding fathers."
"Am I gonna have to put down my John Hancock?"
"No," I roll my eyes. "I've made a list of the roles of everyone attending, and then additional color coded assignments."
"Isn't this a bit excessive?" Luke asks as I sift through the papers.
"Have you met Scotty?" Calum jokes as he leans forward to rest his forearms on the table. "Planning is near orgasmic for her. And skincare."
"Shut up," I say. "All right, so Calum and Ashton will be in charge of lunch—obviously. Luke, you're on appetizer duty with Michael, and Emma you do the decorations. I'm sending Arden and Ashton to get the alcohol."
"So what are you doing?" Luke asks grabbing his purple list.
"Making sure everyone does what they're supposed to," I say. "And I'm assisting Emma."
"Imagine what she'll be like if you get married," Luke says blowing up his cheeks to breath out heavily. I furrow my brows at him.
"Not that it's any of your business but I don't know if I want to get married."
"You don't want to get married ever?" Calum butts into the conversation.
"I don't think so. I mean I guess I could if my partner really wanted to, but I just feel like I could do without it, you know? Marrying the person wouldn't make me love them more, I feel like it would be nice to just be with the person and not have the pressures of the whole married thing; I want to be with the person if I want to and I don't want all the extra fluff."
"You seem like someone who'd be all for weddings."
"They're fun to go to and dress up for but I don't need the label to spend my life with someone," I tell him. "It'd be different if we had kids though, then I'd probably get married because of all the legalities of it."
"I guess you're not getting married then, Cal."
"Dude, we've been dating for like two months. Stop with the pressuring topics."
"Sorry."
"We should go over the menu," I say in hopes to change the topic of the conversation. "We need to know if anyone has any dietary restrictions."
"Yes, ma'am."
...
"Wow, Pops," I marvel. "This place is gorgeous."
"I can't believe George got you The Plaza for your wedding."
"I know, right?" Poppy takes the room in for a moment before turning to us. "I mean his dad did shake Bloomberg's hand in the newspaper once."
"Yeah yeah," Emma rolls her eyes. "Your fiancé comes from an über rich family. Of course you'd get married here. He was a Princeton legacy for Christ's sake."
"Is someone jealous because her boyfriend's a busboy?"
"Poppy," I scold.
"Luke is not a busboy," Emma defends. "And where do you get off trash talking him like that? Your fiancé is rich, so what? All his money comes from his family."
"He went to Princeton; I think he's more than capable to make his own money."
"And Luke went to NYU and he's saving up because he doesn't have a family that can pay for him to get his masters. George's dad gave the school a donation and that's why he got in."
"Hey," I intervene. "Stop it both of you. Emma, you know George works hard, and Poppy, low blow."
"I'm sorry, Emma."
"It's whatever," Emma shrugs. "I'm going to get some air."
She walks out of the venue and I turn to Poppy with my arms crossed over my chest. "That was way over the line, Pops."
"I know," she sighs. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm just so stressed out about the wedding, and I've had to spend so much time with George's family and I guess they're rubbing off on me. God, what if I'm not ready? Scotty, what if I shouldn't get married?"
"Poppy." I grab hold of her. "You have been with George for the past four and a half years. You're perfect for each other—he fills all of the points on your list."
"You're right." Poppy takes deep breaths. "You're totally right. I love him. He's hot, he's funny, he's rich, he's sweet, he's everything."
"That's what I want to hear," I say. "Now let's go check out the bar."
