To Have and To Hold

Chapitre Deux

There was one thing I hated above all else, more than crying brides and snotty bridesmaids—pictures. And people say that a lot, oh, I hate pictures, and then they'll turn toward the camera and toss out a perfect smile. Not me. Not ever. I'm either blinking, sneezing, talking, or looking at an angle where my chins were the size of Mount Everest. My mom calls me her Ugly Duckling, which is probably a whole other issue.

Yeah, so, I hated pictures.

When the bridesmaids and Annabeth lined up along the white wall of the church—yes, outside in the thirty-degree weather without coats—I wanted to stab myself with the stiletto that was already blistering my foot.

The photographer was also a no-nonsense kind of guy, and also a no-English kind of guy. He did a lot of hand gesturing and scrunchy glaring. Palms waving toward each other mean 'closer', hands pointing to his frown probably meant 'smile' and the one hand moving frantically in the air meant 'shut up so I can take the damn photo'.

I understood his pain, even though it was somewhat hilarious.

Annabeth's hand dropped from my waist to the back of my gown, her fingers pinching the skin underneath my hip as the photographer snapped the photo, my yelp captured as the shutter clicked. "I'm so putting that one on the thank-you cards."

I rubbed my butt, switching the green and white bouquet into one hand. "Rude."

The seriousness that suddenly overtook Annabeth's expression made my heart seize up, because I was afraid she was going to start crying again. But she didn't. She only murmured in a soft voice, "I'm about to get married." I could hear the camera clicking rapidly as her head was turned, and I wondered how those photos would turn out. "At twenty. And all I can think of is how, when we were kids, dreaming of this day, I thought I'd be marrying some rich prince."

I turned back toward the camera, gripping my bouquet loosely. "Instead you're marrying a car salesman." Smirking at her from the corner of my eye, I raised an eyebrow, trying to tease. "Upgrade."

She pinched me again, turning back to the photographer. "Now who's rude?"

"Jazz is getting married in a month, and she's only twenty-one. And Lincoln's no prince either."

Jasmine's head peeked out from past Annabeth's, lips twisted into a frown. "Thanks," she said emphatically.

I smiled, caught. "You know I love Link."

"You just love the fact that he always buys your dinner when we go out."

I raised a shoulder, feeling the stiff shoulder strap of my dress move with me. "Hey, being the third wheel has its perks."

The camera man was frantically gesturing for our attention again, and we reluctantly turned away. My mind was still caught on our conversation though.

Annabeth and Jasmine had found the good ones. Jasmine and I shared an apartment on Greenway street, to which Annabeth would always be hanging out at. She'd been over at the apartment when Josh picked her up for their first date, a bouquet of lilies in his right hand, car keys in his left. Without a hint of embarrassment or dishonesty, Annabeth told him, "I'm marrying you, you know that? Stargazer lilies. Alice, he brought me stargazer lilies!"

I didn't know the difference between stargazer lilies and normal lilies, but she did, and it nearly had her in tears.

Josh, having found her weakness, would bring the special flowers each time they went to dinner. I think he knew that each time he gave her stargazer lilies she fell a little bit more in love with him. Josh was a smart man. Since she'd always be overflowing with blooms, it was rare that Jasmine and I didn't have flowers on our kitchen island.

I turned back to the photographer, focusing on his graying hair that was tightly bound into a low ponytail, and I put on the fakest smile of my life. Today was Annabeth's wedding; in two weeks, it would be Jasmine's. Soon 'our kitchen island' would become 'my kitchen island', Jasmine's bedroom turning into an empty space that would provide nothing but shadows and dust bunnies.

The happiness I felt for them would not be dampened by my selfishness. I refused to let it happen. Just because I was boyfriendless and going to be living on my own for the first time in my life didn't mean I had to be bitter, or even sad. I was going to be fine, and I was going to smile.

The camera flashed again, but my grin didn't falter.