To Have and To Hold

Chapitre Dix-Huit

The applause was loud in my ears as Greyson Beckham, Lincoln's best man, stepped away from the microphone stand. His face was flushed and he was grinning, having just recounted a story where he and Lincoln went and TP'd the principal's house their senior year. And now it was my turn, my feet feeling numb as they carried me toward the metal stand.

I had a speech written out on a flimsy notecard, my handwriting shaky as I penned it a few nights ago. Frantically, I tried to remember the tips of public speaking. Don't lock your knees. Smile. Smile. Smile. Make eye contact, but don't look creepy. Smile.

There were so many faces looking at me, upturned and smiling, expectant, waiting for my speech to top Greyson's. "Ahem," I cleared my throat into my mic, trying to take a deep breath and slow my racing heart. God, I hadn't been up in front of people like this since high school. And I think it showed. "I've known Jasmine since I was in the first grade," I said to the audience, trying to hide the shakiness in my voice. I glanced down at my card, trying to read the words. "We met during a routine fire drill, when I accidentally walked with her class and she hid me from her teacher. Who knew she'd be covering up my messes for the next twelve years?"

That got a small chuckle from the audience—sounding more like a pity laugh—which made me even more nervous. The notes in my hands now felt flimsy and unsentimental, robotic for an occasion so important. I could see the next sentence waiting to be read, letters blocky and large, and hesitated. "Jasmine has always had a heart of gold," I said slowly, trying to organize my thoughts as I began to stray from the cards. "Growing up with her as my best friend has helped shape me into who I am. She always held my hand and walked me through hard times. She might drop a sarcastic comment or two, but they were spoken out of love. Or, at least that's what I told myself."

This time, the audience laughed, genuine. I felt a little bit better.

"I never realized how hard it was going to be to give my best friend away," I said, and found that my throat felt like it was beginning to close up. Clearing my throat to banish the tension, I tried to keep going. "These past two weeks has been something of a dream, and it distracted me enough to the point that today it hit me. No longer will she be Jasmine Mercer, the girl I've known for more than half of my life, but Jasmine Mercer Van den Berg. For some reason, I kept thinking that a name would change the girl I loved."

Jasmine was looking at me from her table, and I saw that she was trying her best not to smile too broadly, her lips pinching tight. And if I hadn't known any better, I would've thought that she was crying.

"Someone once told me that life happens when we make a wish. My wish to this lovely couple is to let each other shine." I looked to the groom. "Lincoln, even though you'll want to be her knight in shining armor all the time, let her save herself once in a while." Now I shifted my gaze to Jasmine. "Jasmine, even though it'll pain you to hear, sometimes you're wrong," I laughed, and watched her chuckle too. "And sometimes you'll need to let him save you. So let him."

We held eye contact for a long moment, and I debated on walking away then, but my mouth was moving once again. "Thank you for helping me through everything over the years. And even though we don't live together anymore, that doesn't mean me barging into your room at three a.m. is over. So don't sleep naked. Thank you."

I walked away from microphone with the applause in my ears, but I walked directly up to Jasmine's table. As I passed, she stretched her hand out to me, wrapping her fingers around mine. Neither one of us said anything; we just held on.

"Your speech was beautiful, Alice."

I turned to see Jasmine's mother coming up from behind me, her hand brushing along the bare skin of my shoulder. I was still a little tense, a little shaky, from having to stand in front of so many people, from trying not to cry. But now it was over, and adrenaline was still rushing through my veins. "Thank, Mrs. Decker-Mercer."

Her lips were painted pink and they pulled into a pretty smile, and she flitted away.

Jasmine's reception was held at a hall on the other side of town, nothing too fabulous, since they'd gone all out for their honeymoon. They'd booked a hotel at some resort in Hawaii, and they took two weeks off of work for the long stay. I'd asked if I could squeeze into her suitcase, but she told me I probably wouldn't make it through TSA. Most likely she'd be right.

So her reception didn't have expensive center-pieces or a big barn like Annabeth's, but pretty tables and good food. She'd gone for the traditional route—a white silk five tiered wedding cake, almost covering the entire table. It was gorgeous, and I hoped the photographer took a photo of that.

Jasmine was sipping at a glass of champagne and standing near the cake table, Lincoln at her side with his arm around her waist. They were a beautiful couple, and it was crazy to think that she stopped being Jasmine Mercer and was now Jasmine Mercer-Van den Berg, horrible hyphenation and all.

It was also crazy to think that this was my second wedding in two weeks. I glanced over to where Annabeth and Josh were sitting, together, hands resting together on top of the table, her head on his shoulder. He was looking down on her with a soft expression, his eyes filled with light.

Behind them, at a separate table, I could see Derek and Christi sitting together, plates of food in front of them. Christi looked annoyed with Derek, judging by how her eyes were squinted at him. But he didn't notice; he was too busy stuffing his face.

Jasmine walked toward me, hold a paper plate with cake on top. She offered it out, Lincoln right behind her. "Ready for another wish?"

"Oh, no," I groaned. "I'm done making wishes on cake. The Cake Gods might try and spite me this time for calling upon them twice."

"You're ridiculous," she said, still pushing the cake to me. "Have some anyway."

I plucked the plate from her fingertips, taking the fork from her outstretched fingers.

"Can you do me a favor?" she asked as I scooped up a piece of cake.

I took a bite. "Anything for my bride."

"Can you run out to Link's car and grab his charger?" Lincoln raised his keys from his pocket. "My phone's about to die and I forgot to bring it in."

I grabbed the keys from him, juggling that and the plate of cake. "Like I said: anything for my bride."

Her smile was different than one I've seen on her before, almost...sneaky. "It should be one of the first cars in the first row."

"I got here early," Lincoln supplied.

Glancing between them, I took another bite of cake, the keys rattling in my grip. "I'm holding your cake hostage," I told her, and moved to weave through the crowd.

It was colder tonight than it had been for Annabeth's reception, more appropriate for a December night. I grabbed my coat from where us girls had tucked them in a spare closet, shrugging my arms through it and buttoning it up. I brushed a few curls out from underneath the collar, heading out the set of front doors.

There were a few people loitering out here, smoking cigarettes and chatting, and I brushed past them with a kind smile. Pushing the button on the remote, I heard Lincoln's car beep twice as it locked and unlocked, and I searched for the flashing lights. Once I spotted the beams, I made a beeline for it.

I had just hauled the door open when I was arrested by a blinding flash of a camera going off, close to my face. I jerked back from the car, gripping the keys and whirling around with my heart launching to my throat.