Chapter 14

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   The next few days pass in a flash. When I'm not "going on dates" with Fannar or practicing his flirting moves on him in front of Sabrina and Alex, I'm out with my sister's food-testing and cake shopping and flower bouquet sampling.

Fannar and I usually go to the milkshake place we went on our second "date" and we spend the next couple of hours talking and practicing one flirting technique. He taught me how to subtly ask for a guy's jacket once and, the next day, when I practiced on him, he didn't even realize that I was flirting with him. He gave me a high five when we were alone and said I was a really good student.

Julia, Mélanie and I are always arguing about which savour of cake to choose. Nia doesn't care and mom doesn't like cake (what?) and Dad is always giving us these not-so-fun facts on cake and food, but he's the one paying for it so we take him with us anyway.

"I just don't get it why we can't have a carrot cake," Mélanie says. "It's fun and cool and healthy."

"It's your wedding night," Julia repeats for the gazillionth time. "You shouldn't care about healthy, you should care about delicious."

"Well, I like carrot cake."

"Your taste sucks."

"Excuse me?"

I come in the middle of them just before the woman who's giving us samples of cakes arrives with a red velvet one with chocolate frosting and rainbow sprinkles.

"I like that one," I say. "It says festive."

"It also says diabetes," Mélanie shoots back.

"Did you know," Dad starts, taking a second piece of the red velvet cake, "that 13,1% of the population of Florida has diabetes?"

Julia shoots him a look. "Really, Dad? Out of all the things your brain can remember, this is what you learn?"

"I think it's cool," Mélanie says. "I like that Dad is cultivated."

"Cultivated means that someone knows many useful things, not random things no one cares about!" Julia explains.

I'm with Julia on that point, but I don't feel like getting myself into an argument with my two sisters. Especially since one is about to get married and the other one is wearing black pants which most likely means she's on her period because Julia never wears black.

"Ah-ha!" I say. "Here's the lemon one!"

My two sisters turn around and stretch out their hands. Everyone in my family loves lemon cake.

"I like this one already," says Dad. "Colourful, sweet but not too sweet."

"Same," says Julia, licking the plate.

"You're gross," Mélanie points out.

"Oh please. You wish you were doing it, too."

Mélanie grins. "I am, in fact, doing it."

Dad drops the phis fork. "You what?"

Mélanie bursts into laughter. "Relax! I was just kidding." The wink she directs at me makes me understand that she wasn't, in fact, "kidding".

It's strange thinking of my sister not being a virgin. I mean, I knew she wasn't; Julia, she and I had a full conversation after Mel's first time which coincidentally happened the same day as Julia's. But it's still strange to think about it. Not strange as in weird as in disgusting. Strange as in my sister is all grown up. Strange as in everything is changing now.

"So you and Nia... haven't?" Dad starts.

"No," Mélanie promises.

"Oh please," Julia starts. "Like she would tell you if the answer were yes."

Point Julia.

"I like the lemon cake," I say to change the subject. Mélanie gives me a grateful smile.

"Me too," Julia says.

"Diddo," Mélanie agrees. "But I don't like the decorations."

Julia lets herself sink into the sofa she's been lying on for the last hour. I know what she's thinking. If Mélanie wants to change the decoration and the design of a cake, we'll be here for the next two hours.

*****

I was wrong.

It took three and a half hours for Mélanie to finally settle with a design. She had so many ideas that were all so different that the pastry chef had to call in all her cooks to help them out. Julia sometimes popped in and gave her opinion like she always does, but I think she was too exhausted from the cake testing to even do that. Dad and I just sat there for three and a half hours, eating the rest of the cakes and taking pictures for mom.

"I swear to God," Julia says once in the car, "if it takes that much time to choose the utensils, I'll shoot somebody."

Mélanie stops breathing for a second.

"What?" I ask, suddenly panicking. "What?"

"I forgot to take an appointment with the utensil guy!"

I don't know if it's because we were all exhausted, or if it's because the situation is funny, but we all burst into laughter and only stop once we've arrived home.

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