Sasha (Mixed Drinks #1) (14 page)

“Awesome, small wedding. We can plan that. Small, elegant yet informal, yes! I love it,” Megan proclaims.

“Uh, no. No to that, too,” Sadie emphasizes.

Then it hits me.

“Sadie? When are you planning on getting married?” I blurt out.

Sadie looks at me and smiles. Megan looks back and forth from Sadie to me, wide-eyed and ready to explode if she doesn’t hear the answer soon.

“Friday.” Sadie finally professes.

“What!” Megan and I say in unison.

“Friday? Are you freaking kidding us? Were we even going to be invited?” I shout, the hurt evident in my tone.

Sadie starts to turn red and tries to walk away, but Megan moves quickly to block her exit. She is so not going to leave us hanging like that. Sadie tries to get around us, moving from side to side until she realizes she has nowhere to go. With Megan on one end me on the other, the crotch less panties display to my left and the push up bras to the right, Sadie was alone in the middle. She was trapped.

“Ok, fine! No, we weren’t going to tell anyone! We are just going to go to the courthouse and have a very quick civil ceremony, and then we were going to go to dinner,” she confesses.

Megan and I remain standing in place, beyond shocked. We had been talking about their weddings for years. Megan and Sadie both knew that it was only a matter of time before they married Matt and Will. We had even made binders and vision boards of ideas. So for Sadie not to tell anyone, not even us, that she was getting married was more than a punch to the heart.

“I’m sorry, Will and I talked about it for hours, and we decided that rather than spend all that money and time planning, we had waited long enough now so why not just do it? We thought about having you both there,” she pauses as if the words were stuck in her throat. “But I couldn’t pick between you two as my maid of honor, so we thought we would just ask two random people to be our witnesses and just go get it done.”

“We are going, we don’t give two shits who your maid of honor is, and we just want our friend to be happy,” I say and then walk away, unable to contain my emotions any longer.

FRIDAY MORNING ARRIVED BRIGHT AND early, and as we all started to wake up, we begin to regret the quickie bachelorette party we threw last night at my apartment. The room is still spinning, and I can smell remnants of the Jell-o shots, Reddi-Whip, beer, and who knows what else.

We chose to have a sex toy party in honor of our new bride, and after the product demonstration, things got a little out of hand. However, that may be the understatement of the year judging by my still-foggy brain. I have a vague memory of Betty coming over and joining us. She may or may not have drank from a penis straw, and possibly could have had Anal Eaze on her lips. I really can’t be sure. I think it was a dream, but I’m having a hard time telling the difference. I shake my head.
It had to have been a dream
. As I get up, I make a mental note to apologize to Betty later for the noise.

I need to wet my mouth because I feel like a cat shit in it. “What in the fuck did we drink last night?” I ask, but all I get back are a few groans in response and more questions in my mind. It seems last night is a bit of a blur for all of us. Note to self,
bachelorette parties the night before the wedding should consist of movies, limited bottles of wine, and pizza.

We all slowly wake up and manage to get down some water and Advil to help with the headaches that were surely on their way. Sadie’s phone starts to ring, and when she answers, it’s Will wishing her a good morning and telling her how much he loves her and how he can’t wait to see her at two o’clock today. It’s so cute, but my head is still woozy and the display makes me want to puke.

Crap. Two o’clock today is going to come fast
. I make myself run off to the kitchen to make some bacon, eggs, and toast for the girls and I. Because everyone knows, there is nothing like a greasy, carb-filled breakfast to ward off the start of a massive hangover. Before you know it, we are fed, dressed, alert, and ready to get our friend hitched.
After some much needed beauty help from the local salon, that is.

On our way to the salon, I shoot Bash a text reminding him about today, and that he should be at the courthouse by one thirty so that we can take some pictures. I was so glad when Bash agreed to be my date for the informal wedding. I really didn’t want to be the fifth wheel in the all of the pictures.

At the salon we enjoy a few glasses of champagne and gossip with the ladies about the day while they do our hair and nails. We are having so much fun that we almost lose track of time and have to rush to get our dresses on before heading downtown. After quick stop at the nearest florist to pick up a few flowers, we are looking smoking hot and ready to go.

Sadie was wearing the cute white prom dress we made her buy because we’re not about to let her get married in jeans and a random shirt. Plus, the dress looked amazing on her. It also wasn’t too much for a courthouse wedding: knee length, off-white, and strapless, with subtle hints of glitter to add a little flare.

Megan and I opted to wear simple black dresses. Nice enough to appear elegant and classy without making us look out of place.

The afternoon went by so fast that it hardly seemed real that our Sadie and Will were married. The judge performed a quick ceremony, and Matt and Megan signed the certificate as witnesses. Bash helped out with pictures before, during, and after the ceremony. We decided to head down to Riverside Park for a few more pictures of our bride and groom. Megan insisted that Sadie will thank her in years to come, however I would argue that it was more because Megan didn’t want the wedding to be over yet.

As we all strolled through the park, stopping every so often for photo ops, I hear Bash’s phone ring. He presses the ignore button and pretends like it didn’t happen. A few minutes later, the phone rings again. I look back at him and ask, “Emma?” he shakes his head yes. I tell him to go ahead and answer, so he walks off to take the call privately.

“Is she still calling him all the time?” Megan asks.

“Yes, and it is really starting to piss me off. This chick is testing my last nerve. Bash still hasn’t told me what her deal is, and so I can’t really say if this is necessary or not,” I respond.

“Well I say it’s time to find out. If she is going to keep pulling him away every chance she gets, you are never gonna be able to build a real relationship with him,” Megan warns.

I know she is right; I just don’t want to push him about it. I just really hope I’m not getting played here. I mean, maybe she is his real girlfriend, and I’m someone he likes but doesn’t know if I’m worth it to leave her for.
He could just be testing the waters with me
. I pause to think about that for a moment, just as Bash is walking back over to me.

“Level with me here. Is she your girlfriend?” I blurt.
Off with the Band-Aid
.

Bash is shocked by my bluntness, but as he gets ready to respond, I continue.

“I’m sorry, that was rude. My imagination has been running wild lately, and I am just having a moment of female over-thinking, coming to the worst possible conclusion on my own, type of thoughts,” I confess to him.

“No, she is not my girlfriend. You are.” He says smiling, giving me a sweet kiss. “Emma is just a friend, I promise,” he continues. “And she happens to be a friend who needs me to drop what I’m doing right now and go over there.” He says, wincing like he is waiting for a slap across the face.

I want to scream
NO! Not today, of all days
. But he just called me his girlfriend. I’m partly in shock and partly pissed off. That fucker did that on purpose to soften the blow, and I opened the door for him to do it.

“Well then, I guess as your girlfriend I should have the right to keep you here for this very important event.” I tease, while batting my eyelashes and silently begging him to stay.

Bash smiles and lets out a chuckle. He pulls me close and tells me that if it wasn’t really important, he would stay. I quickly cave and let him go guilt free about ditching me on the day of one of my best friend’s wedding. I figure that since I will be spending the day with him tomorrow at Jesse’s BBQ, I have to be on my best girlfriend behavior, so I should probably start now.

After Bash leaves, the rest of us spend what is left of the evening parading Sadie and Will around downtown, telling everyone we can that they just got married. We end up getting free drinks and a few of our favorite shots, called ‘Leg Spreaders’, then dancing our asses off with random people. I must say, tonight is not ending up half bad, given Bash’s sudden departure. I was just about to start dancing with one of the bartenders who looked like a thin slice of heaven, when I hear my name being called behind me. I turn to look through the crowd and see Dustin walking toward me.
Oh no, not Dustin
. He’s a great friend and all, but when he sees me out without a date, he always thinks that it’s his chance to make a move, and I don’t know if I have it in me to deal with his drooling over me tonight.

“Oh, hey Dustin. How’s it going?” I shout over the music, trying my best to be nice.

“It’s going great, now that you are here with me.” He replies with a big, shit-eating grin on his face.

Eww, I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.
That is one of the cheesiest lines out there. If he bothered to really get to know me at all, he would have learned that even if I were interested, that crap would never work on me.

“You here with friends?” I ask, hoping against hope that the answer is yes, and that it reminds him to go hang out with them.

“Not anymore, they just left. I told them I saw someone I knew and had to say hi.” His grin got even bigger.

I can feel the words forming in my brain and there is nothing I can do at this point to stop them. I have a habit of becoming extremely blunt the more I drink. I can’t ever help myself; my internal filter just disintegrates with the introduction of alcohol into my system. My friends are used to it, and have come to appreciate my drunken honestly. Dustin, on the other hand, will probably not like it as much.

“Ok Dustin, listen up. I’m a little drunk, so I’m sorry if this comes out worse than it is meant to. I’m not interested in you. It is never going to happen between us. We tried, it sucked, and now you’re a good friend, but that’s it. I have a boyfriend now, so I need you to back off. I’m never gonna have sex with you,” I manage to get out, hoping I didn’t slur my words too embarrassingly.

Dustin’s smile turns hard and forced. I feel so bad. Even in my current state, I know that I have hurt him. I also know that he has just been waiting around for me to cave and accept another date with him, so he can prove that things can work out for us. He is such a good person, and I feel like such a shit bag telling him the truth.

Before I know it, I’m spinning, and the floor seems awfully close and blurry.

Waking up slowly Saturday morning, I realize that I’m not in my own bed. As I stare up at the ceiling, I wonder,
what the hell happened last night, where the hell am I, and how the hell did I get here?
I start to panic and lift up the sheets. Thank god, I’m still fully clothed
. But let’s get back to where the hell am I? And whose apartment is this?

I hear a very somber
good morning
coming from the doorway. I spring up in bed and see Dustin leaning against the frame.
Fuck a monkey in church, what the hell am I doing here
?

“I, um, so, uh… Fuck!” I garble, grabbing my head. I should never, ever drink that much again, two nights in a row.

Dustin brings me over a glass of water and what appears to be some Advil. I politely take them, pop the pills and chug the water, trying like hell to avoid any and all eye contact. I feel like I may have done something pretty stupid last night, so I close my eyes and silently pray that I just passed out before anything bad happened.

“
Uh, we didn’t, um…
” I whisper awkwardly

“No, we didn’t.” He snaps, walking away.

“If we didn’t do anything, then why did I come over here?” I ask, perplexed.