“I can be pretty charming,” Nate says, being pretty charming. He leans back into the couch cushions before he stretches his legs out in front of him.

I reach down and pick up one of my flip flops and playfully toss it at him. He laughs, the jerk. The beautiful, charming jerk.

“I’m keeping this,” he says, holding up my flip flop like it’s some kind of prized possession.

“Good.” I playfully stick my tongue out at him.

“Where does this deep-seated fear of adventure come from?” Nate sets my flip flop on his leg and runs the pad of his thumb along the flowered pattern on the strap.

“Don’t ask her,” Gabby teases. “She’s got a list of aversions about a mile long.”

“That’s not true!”

She side eyes me, and all my rage melts away into laughter.

“Well, it’s mostly not true.” I guess I can’t really deny that they’ve got me on this one.

“It’s pretty true,” Ben says.

“Not you too,” I reply, glaring at him. “Is this gonna be what it’s like when you’re married? The two of you ganging up on me?”

“Let me tell him the story about spring break sophomore year.” Ben is practically begging, and the desperation in his voice is so irritating. “About the lake.”

I shrug, kind of defeated, and Ben takes this as a yes.

He looks over at Nate before he starts the story that is surely going to embarrass the hell out of me. “We went to some lake in central Texas during spring break.” Nate seems entirely too interested in this story for my comfort. “We’d been drinking a little, and Ethan-” Ben stops in his tracks, as if mentioning Ethan’s name is going to make him appear out of thin air.

“Keep going,” I tell him, trying not to sound as irritated as I feel. He’s already brought it up, there’s no point in stopping now.

Ben, to his credit, hesitates before picking up where he left off, wanting to make sure that I’m okay with it before he continues. At this point I feel kind of trapped. If I tell him to stop I seem like a bad sport, if I let him keep going, well…I guess I’m about to find out what happens with that.

“Ethan had been badgering her to get on this tire swing the whole weekend. It was kind of like the one grandpop had at that lake near his house, remember?”

Nate nods and looks over at me for a fleeting moment before turning his attention back to his brother.

“Anyway,” Ben continues, “it was hanging off of this tree-”

“It was a freaking huge tree on the edge of a cliff,” I say, interrupting. I want to clarify the situation so this story sounds a little less ridiculous than I’m sure it’s going to sound with Ben telling it.

“It wasn’t a cliff, Callie,” Ben laughs.

“It was a cliff,” I tell Nate, even though I know that he thinks I’m exaggerating. I’m not. Well, I am, but only a little.

“Callie finally got the nerve to get on it, and Ethan pushed her off.”

“He shoved me off,” I say, glaring at Ben. He was there, he knows that’s not an exaggeration. I had forgotten about what a jerk Ethan could be sometimes, even before the cheating.

“And she went flying, screaming her head off. We were all yelling at her to let go, but she waited too long and the tire had slowed down to the point where she just kind of slid out of it.” Ben is killing himself laughing, and Gabby isn’t all that far behind him. I know I looked ridiculous back then, but I can’t help but feel like the two of them are such assholes for laughing at me, both then and now. My cheeks grow hot, and I tell myself that I’m just embarrassed at the story in general, not necessarily because it’s being told in front of Nate.

I chance a glance over at him, worried that he’s laughing too. But he’s not. He looks like he wants to kick Ben’s ass actually.

“So, she was just hanging there from the bottom of this tire swing, screaming,” Ben continues.

“And you two assholes were laughing, just like you are now,” I say, trying not to sound annoyed. I figure it’s better for me to finish this story for the sake of my own sanity. “I finally let go and dropped down into this disgusting water that was full of eels. They all circled around me like they were guarding the entrance to hell.” I shiver, wanting to throw up at the memory of the slimy feeling of them slithering across my legs. So disgusting.

“The entrance to hell?” Nate says, finally cracking a smile.

“Yes,” I reply, nodding. “If there’s a hell, the gates to it are guarded by eels, I’m sure of it.” I rub my arms with my hands, trying to warm myself. I should be warm enough with all the anger and embarrassment coursing through my veins, but I’m not.

Nate sits forward and unbuttons the long-sleeved shirt he’s wearing over a tee, then he slips the shirt over my shoulders.

“Won’t you be cold?” I ask.

He grins and shakes my head. “Nah.”

“Thank you,” I reply. The shirt smells like him; that clean, comforting scent that I remember from our night together in Dallas. It takes everything I have in me not to bury my face in the collar and breathe deeply. “I guess the moral of the story is that A, I need some new friends. And B, I’m never getting into water where I can’t see my feet ever again.”

Nate’s fingers brush along the cuff of his shirt that I’m wearing. “You did yesterday.” My eyes meet his and he gives me a soft smile.

“Yeah, I guess I did.” I’m surprised I didn’t realize that before now.

He leans in so close to me that I can feel his warm breath on my cheek. “When you’re around me, I think you’ll wind up doing a lot of things that you thought you never would.”

I’m not quite sure why, but I have a feeling that he’s right.

“I’M NOT sure how I feel about this,” I say as a very patient hairdresser named Josephine smooths a few strands of Gabby’s hair back into the most simple, elegant updo that I’ve ever seen. “I think maybe you need a great big flower right here.” I point at the side of Gabby’s head and she swats my hand away, smiling.

“Be serious, Callie. What do you think?” Gabby asks, looking up at me hopefully.

“I think that if I had every hairstyle in the world to choose for you to wear on your wedding day, I’d choose this one.” I gently put my hand on her shoulder, and she reaches up and gives it a squeeze.

“This is perfect, Josephine,” Gabby says, turning her head to admire herself in the mirror.

“It’ll look so elegant with the bodice of your dress.” Amy is standing behind Gabby, smiling at her reflection.

Gabby attempts a smile in return, but it’s a sad one that doesn’t quite stick. I recognize that look in her eyes; I’ve seen it a hundred times over the course of the past few years. As a mother, Amy must recognize it too, because she takes Josephine aside to finalize arrangements for the wedding prep on Saturday morning. I’m careful not to comfort Gabby while someone else is in the room, because I know how she feels about people making a fuss over her. But I want so badly to hug her, to show her so much love that she can’t possibly feel any of the pain. I want to guard her against unpleasant thoughts and build a wall around her so tall that no bittersweet memories can find their way in. Only happiness and love.

As if Gabby can sense that I want to hug her, she shakes her head and grabs a tissue off of the vanity as she stands up. She’s very careful to avoid looking me in the eye, and I wonder if it’s because she thinks she’ll cry if she does. Whatever makes things easier for her, that’s what I want to do.

“Updo for the bride and curls for the bridesmaids,” Josephine says, confirming our hairstyles with Amy as she reads off of the notepad she’s holding. “I’ll be here at eight sharp.”

Amy looks back at me and Gabby, understanding that we need a few minutes alone together. “I’ll walk you out,” she says, following Josephine through the door of the guest room that she’s designated for bridal party wedding preparations.