The Difference Between Getting and Needing

t w e l v e

you're pulling me even faster
as we go spinning out of c o n t r o l . . .

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By the time I downed my fourth Piña Colada, I knew it was only a preview of how I'd be at my sister's actual wedding. I was drunk enough not to have a care in the world, but I was nowhere near whatever dimension Gus was in last night. The all-natural cocktails were too inviting for me to turn them down. Unlike the bar, they were free since my parents already paid to have the machine for the night. That in itself was enough for me to drink as many as I could.

Them being free from a dispensary machine meant they weren't quite as strong as if you were to have one made by an actual person. I knew it was the better choice for me because whether I liked it or not, I still had an image to uphold until the wedding. I couldn't lose all control; just some.

We had an hour until the party started by the time we were done setting up the room, perfecting it to Sutton's standards and making sure nothing was out of place. Everyone ended up back at my parents house to get ready since they only lived ten minutes from the venue. It felt like a step back into my youth with a million people in the house and not enough mirrors.

I didn't bother with a shower, twisted my hair into a tousled low bun, and slapped on some makeup and the dress I'd bought specifically for this party. God forbid if I wore anything I already owned, my sister would've ripped it to shreds.

Somehow we made it to the venue before any guests arrived. Barely.

The first two hours went by smoothly. The food had been served – a divine mix of Koa's native dishes and some of Sutton's lifelong favorites – and the catering did a hell of a job with it. I'd spent too much time in the photo booth that Sutton and Koa rented, snapping picture after picture with my brothers, with Gus, with Collin, and a whole bunch of randoms. Whatever DJ that my sister hired was blasting all kinds of crowd-pleasers and standard party classics that kept everyone on their feet.

I'd spun around with my one and only niece on the dance floor so many times I thought my Piña Coladas would make a reappearance. She tended to have a way of making me feel so young and yet so old at the same time.

The song changed to a slower throwback and our current twirl came to an end. Madelyn paused to look up at me as our hands were still latched together, my grip a little tighter than hers to ensure I wouldn't end up flinging her across the room.

"Can you find my dad? I wanna dance with him," she asked me, brushing her curls out of her flushed face.

"Of course, babe," I smiled.

I perused the ballroom for my eldest brother, squinting my eyes and thinking that would either help me see better or become less dizzy. I spotted him, of course, by the cocktail machine.

With a roll of my eyes, I flailed my arm around maniacally hoping to catch his attention. He didn't notice me.

"Duncan!" I screeched his name over the music, cupping my hands around my mouth to carry the sound.

He jerked his head in my direction, eyebrows raised in wonder that accentuated the lines on his forehead. When I waved him over, he excused himself from a group of our cousins he was talking to and was standing in front of me in a second.