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Authors: Catherine Hapka

Something Borrowed (17 page)

BOOK: Something Borrowed
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Charlene smirked at me and held out her hand like a limp fish. “Nice dress,” she said. “Don't take this the wrong way, but pink isn't really your color, sweetie.”

I glared at her, too furious to speak. Lance stared at the floor and shuffled his feet. The bridesmaid standing to my right glanced over in surprise, as if not sure she'd heard what she thought she'd heard.

To my left, Jason stuck out his hand to Lance. “It's, like, Lars or something, right, dude?” he said in a jovial tone. “Glad you could make it. It's always good to see a couple that really
deserves
each other, isn't it?” He shot a meaningful look at Charlene.

Lance blinked, looking confused. “Um, yeah.”

Jason slung an arm around my shoulders, then turned his pleasant smile on Charlene. “And if you see anyone giving you funny looks, don't worry—it's probably just because they're wondering if you might steal their dates or something. It's definitely
not anything to do with that, er, interesting fashion choice of yours. Sweetie.”

Charlene scowled, looking outraged. “Hey!” she began.

But Lance yanked her past us before she could get started. “Come on,” he muttered. “This wedding is a drag. Let's get out of here.”

Jason smiled and waved as they hurried on. “Enjoy the reception, you two!” he called out cheerily.

I shot him a grateful glance, but he wasn't looking at me, having turned his attention to the next person in line. As I did the same, I couldn't help feeling a rush of warm fuzzies toward my “date.” Going with him had started off as making the best of a bad situation, but now I was actually glad he was there. I would really owe Teresa for the loan once she got back.

Seventeen

The reception was big, lavish, and crowded. The band was playing with enthusiasm, the bartenders were doing a brisk business, and half a dozen servers were circulating with trays of canapés. I wished I could change out of the Pink Horror, but Camille had practically fainted when I'd mentioned that idea. Oh, well.

Aside from that, though, I was ready to relax and have fun. It had been a long year—
really
long. This party was our reward for surviving Camzilla for all that time. At least that was how I saw it.

Besides, after the past couple of weeks of crazy dating—not to mention my little chat with Camille right after the ceremony—I
was feeling inspired to get my love life back on track. Maybe I could find that thumpity-thump-heart guy my sister was talking about. Maybe he was even here tonight, I thought with a shiver as I spotted Andy over near the dance floor chatting with some other old friends from school.

“Hey, I'll catch you later, okay?” I said to Jason soon after we'd walked in. “I'm going to say hi to Andy.”

“I'll come with you,” he said immediately.

I frowned. That wasn't the response I'd expected. “Um, that's okay,” I said. “You don't have to—you know—keep pretending this is a real date or anything. Feel free to hang out with the guys and talk b-ball or whatever. I'll see you when they serve dinner.”

This time I didn't give him a chance to respond. I just scooted off across the room without a backward glance. I felt a little guilty for ditching him, but I pushed the feeling aside. Jason was a big boy, he knew plenty of people at the wedding, and he wasn't shy. What was the big deal?

Andy saw me coming and smiled. “Hey, Ava,” he said, raising his glass to me. “Nice dress.”

“Please!” I rolled my eyes. “Can you believe Camille actually made me wear pink?”

He laughed. “Yeah, I know. I remember back in high school when they wanted you to wear that pink sash for the spring choir concert, and you—”

“Ah, there's my lovely date!” Jason appeared at my shoulder, grinning and holding two glasses. “I've been searching this whole place for you, Ava. Here you go—iced tea. Your favorite, right?”

I shot him a glare. What was he up to? I'd only left him five minutes ago—barely enough time to go grab those drinks, let alone “search” for me. What was he doing?

“Thanks,” I said through clenched teeth. “Andy, you remember Jason? He was at the pool party with Teresa.”

“Sure. Hey, man.” Andy shook Jason's hand. “So did you say you're Ava's date today?”

“That's right.” He reached over and threw an arm around my shoulders. I did my best to shake it off, but he just squeezed more tightly. “I'm a lucky guy, huh?”

“Sure.” Andy looked a little confused. And no wonder—Jason was acting like a total freak. Was this his way of having
fun at this wedding? Torturing me? And here I'd just been thinking how sweet he was acting. . . .

“Excuse me,” I said. “I need to take a trip to the little girls' room.” At least Jason couldn't follow me there.

I left them chatting together and hurried to the bathroom. It was painful looking in the mirror and seeing the Pink Horror, but I did my best to ignore that as I reap-plied my lipstick and checked my hair.

While I was standing there, I saw a hideous blob of pink out of the corner of my eye—another bridesmaid had just entered. It was Lissa.

“Ava!” she gushed, her high-pitched voice even higher-pitched than usual and her cheeks flushed with excitement She rushed over and gave me a hug, almost knocking my favorite M.A.C. lipstick out of my hand. “Wasn't it a beautiful ceremony? Camille looked so gorgeous! And Bob was superhandsome.”

As far as I was concerned,
Bob + Handsome = Does Not Compute
. But I kept that opinion to myself.

“Yeah, it was great,” I said.

She gave me a little pinch on the arm
and a conspiratorial smile. “And that date of yours—well, let's just say I can see why you kept him under wraps. Hubba hubba!”

I was surprised. Firstly, because I didn't think anyone outside a Saturday morning cartoon actually said “hubba hubba.” Secondly, because Lissa didn't seem to realize that Jason wasn't a “hubba hubba” kind of date. It didn't seem worth trying to explain that to her, though, so I just smiled and headed for the door.

“See you later,” I said. I could only hope her head wouldn't explode if she happened to see me slow-dancing with Andy later that evening.

As I stepped out of the restroom, I immediately spotted Andy over near the bandstand talking to Emily, an old high-school classmate of Teresa's who had taken tennis lessons from Camille for a while. I smiled and made a beeline for him.

Halfway there, Jason appeared and stepped in front of me. “Hi!” he said brightly. “I love this song. Want to dance?”

“Maybe later,” I said, dodging around him.

But he sidestepped neatly, blocking me again. “Aw, come on,” he wheedled with a
grin. “You shouldn't diss me until you've seen my moves.” He did a goofy little hip wriggle.

I rolled my eyes. “You call that a move?”

“That's nothing,” he bragged. “Check this out!”

He grabbed me by the hand and waist and spun me around so suddenly that I almost tripped over my dyed-pink pumps. Then, before I could protest, he dipped me.

“Hey!” I exclaimed once I was upright again. “Do you mind? Most polite people
ask
before they just start flinging other people around.”

“I did ask, remember?” He kept dancing on his own, grooving out to the song that was playing.

“Okay, but I don't remember saying yes.” Glancing around, I saw that his solo dancing was attracting attention from the people nearby. A couple of older ladies were watching and clapping along. A little farther away, Andy was looking at Jason with a confused expression.

“Would you knock it off?” I said to Jason. “People are staring.”

“That always happens when I get down with my bad self,” he responded, throwing in
a little
Saturday Night Fever
finger-pointing move.

That particular move aside, I had to admit he wasn't a bad dancer. Still, I was relieved when the band cut off and the singer announced that it was time for Camille and Bob's first dance.

The whole crowd gathered around as Boring Bob gave a rather gallant bow before a blushing Camille. It was actually pretty cute. They danced with each other, and then my dad cut in, and Bob went and pulled his mom out of the crowd . . . the whole deal.

I shuffled back a bit, hoping to sidle closer to Andy before everyone was invited out to join in the dance. He was standing just a few yards away now, and I managed to work my way through the crowd until I was right next to him.

“Hey,” I murmured. “Having fun?”

He smiled at me. “Yeah. You?”

“More and more by the minute.” I smiled back, hoping he got the message.

“All right, everyone,” the bandleader said into the microphone. “Let's have all the happy couples in the room get out there and . . .”

I tilted my head up toward Andy with a friendly sort of look on my face. If he didn't ask me to dance right away, I was fully prepared to do the asking myself.

But just then Jason appeared. “Hey, Ava,” he said. “You're needed for some kind of errand.”

“Huh?” I had a horrible flashback to the zillions of errands I'd been sent on over the past ten or twelve months—everything from picking up the invitations at the printer to shuttling Camille's dress around town to that ridiculous wild-goose chase after the olives. I'd thought I was finished with all that. “What is it?”

Jason just shrugged and shot an apologetic look at Andy. “Mind if I borrow her for a while?”

“Sure.”

I sighed and followed him to the edge of the crowd around the dance floor. And here I'd thought Camille had finally returned to sanity. . . .

“Okay, so what is it?” I asked Jason when we were in the clear.

“Nothing,” he replied. “Just wanted to rescue you before someone dragged you out to dance. I know how much you hate dancing.”
He shot me a completely infuriating little grin.

“Oh, please!” I exclaimed. “Just because I didn't want to dance with
you
doesn't mean I . . . aargh!” Realizing I was wasting my time arguing with him—and worse yet giving him exactly what he wanted—I whirled around and stomped away, heading for the French doors leading out to the garden so I could get some air.

My dad's cousin Sally reached out to me as I went by. She was half blind without her glasses, which she was too vain to wear in public, so she probably couldn't see the expression on my face. I was surprised she could even recognize me. Maybe she'd just been grabbing every blurry pink blob that went by until she got lucky.

“Ava, dear!” she trilled. “Wasn't it a lovely ceremony?”

“Great, Cousin Sally,” I said, forcing myself to sound pleasant and polite. After all, it wasn't her fault my “date” was an obnoxious child. “Just fantastic.”

“Totally fantastic!” Jason said, appearing at my side. “It's Cousin Sally, right? You look lovely this evening. I'm Ava's date, Jason—we met in the receiving line.”

“Oh, yes!” Cousin Sally giggled. “Ava, what a charming young man you found for yourself!”

“Yeah.” I shot Jason a scowl, knowing that Sally probably wouldn't be able to see it. “He's a charmer, all right.”

After that I found myself waylaid by a parade of relatives and other guests. The entire time Jason hovered at my side, playing the part of an attentive date and probably chortling on the inside the whole time. I'd known he was easily amused, but I didn't quite get the joke this time. Did he really get his jollies from irritating people?

I eventually got my revenge when we encountered my uncle Phil over by the windows overlooking the gardens. “Say, Uncle Phil,” I said brightly. “Jason here was just telling me how much he loves hearing stories from the good old days. Why don't you tell him that one about how you started your first business when you were still in high school?”

Phil's face lit up. “Oh, my boy!” he exclaimed, clutching at Jason's arm with one wizened hand. “Have I got a tale for you. . . .”

“Excuse me, I'll be right back,” I said,
ducking away as Phil launched into one of his long, rambling stories. As soon as my back was turned, I broke out in a big grin. Not only had I just made an old man very happy, but Jason was sure to be stuck there listening for a good long time. Talk about multitasking!

Now,
finally
, maybe I could see about getting better reacquainted with Andy. He wasn't sitting at his assigned table, so I started circulating, keeping an eye out for him.

I finally spotted him out on the dance floor. A slow dance was playing, and for a second I assumed he was dancing with his platonic date, Mariella Farley. But if that was the case, why was he holding her so close? . . .

I gasped as the couple swayed and turned. That wasn't Mariella—it was Emily, the girl from school I'd seen him talking to earlier. Now that I thought about it, she was an ex of Andy's too. They'd dated for almost a year back when they were both sophomores.

I saw Andy run his hands up and down her back. Emily tilted her head back, smiled, and said something I couldn't hear
at that distance. Andy smiled back, leaned closer . . . and they shared a long, lingering kiss!

I backed away, my heart sinking. It seemed that Andy really was going to revive an old relationship tonight. Just not with me.

I couldn't help feeling dejected and a little bit
re
jected. It was hard to avoid wondering whether things might have turned out differently if I'd had the chance to spend time with Andy earlier in the evening.

Either way, it didn't really matter. Obviously, he was back with Emily now, and that was that. I liked Emily too much to try to interfere. Besides, I wasn't the type of girl to try to steal a guy from another girl. There were too many guys in the world to stoop to that. At least that had always been my philosophy.

BOOK: Something Borrowed
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