wedding favors

three

We've been here for over an hour now, and I'm watching Reed play beer pong with some of the other boys he recognized from middle school club sports. He slipped in so easily, started sharing laughs so readily. He's given me charge of his green sweater, so I wear it over my pseudo-bridesmaid dress and take in his scent. It's this foresty, spicy smell mixed with the scent from a fresh meadow laundry detergent. He pauses every once in a while to glance over at me, and doesn't turn away until I smile back. I feel special, like I am his anchor here.

Carleigh's backyard is filled now. Less of a backyard and more of a resort plaza, there's a huge stone pool with a guesthouse on one side, and people standing in every spot possible. The pool lights illuminate us along with strings of naked light bulbs, the kind of dim that invites trouble. Brenton finds his way over to me, plops himself down on the pool chair. He leans into me, with an openness so rare that I know he must've had a few drinks. He's not drunk, just loose, and I almost relish the moments that he isn't so stiff.

He rests his head on my left shoulder and puts his arm around the other. "Sometimes I think it's just going to be you and me, Lauren. That only we'll understand each other. Maybe forever."

Most people would probably find this moment romantic, under the warm lighting and heard in between the busy noise. But it's not, truly. It's not wistful. There's no soft, glowing gaze that he shares with me. I can tell he just thinks it's the truth.

"Don't say that. That sounds terribly sad," I say, bemused. I kiss him on the head, catch a whiff of his expensive cologne. "I expect to be wooed when a man says something like that."

"I don't know, Lauren. You're the only one here who I'd want to know me."

Brenton has friends, but he is always keeping them at an arm's distance. I don't think he hangs out with any of them past practice and parties. He's not sure if they're mature enough, or if they're just trying to get in close because of his family, or even if they can handle him as he is. Sometimes I think he's right. One of his teammates is dragging Melanie Hartman, the girl of Brenton's current fancy, off to the guesthouse as we speak. I'm not surprised that I am the only person who really knows him, with all his pessimism and sentimentality.

Brenton's not the only one I want to know me, though. Reed catches my gaze from his beer pong game, and I see him tap himself out. A few of the boys look disappointed, but soon enough there is another one tapping in. Reed is taking in the sight of a quiet, tired Brenton practically falling asleep on me. He walks over to join us, and when I see the question in his eyes I just wave off his concern.

There's a newfound intimacy between us, now, and he brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. I blush, warm at the feeling he's giving me.

"Hey Brenton," I say, placing a hand on his cheek. "Do you need a ride home?"

He sits up and shakes his head. "I told my mom I was staying with Derek." Derek is Carleigh's second older brother, and when I look up I can see the light coming from his bedroom window. I know that Derek is probably inside, bored out of his mind as the de-facto Lawrence in charge.

The stiffness has returned to my best friend's shoulders.

I give him a hug, and stand. "I think I should release Reed from DD duty, so I'm going to go. Are you going to cause any trouble?" I don't really mean it when I ask. Brenton never causes any trouble.

"Is Melanie gone?" He looks around Carleigh's huge backyard again, doing a full sweep while looking like he isn't looking.

"Disappeared with Tristan a while ago," I tell him, almost hesitantly. I'm a bit sorry for breaking it to him this way, but I know that Melanie is a passing fancy. Even if she were here, Brenton is so cut and dry around girls that he leaves no room for anyone to cause a scene. I assume it'd be another Julia Humphrey situation, end with a handshake.

He smiles his Brenton smile. "I'll be fine. Love you."

"Love you back."

I share a glance with Reed as our cue to leave. As we walk through Carleigh's house to get to the front door, we run into her for the first time all night. Reed is taking in the extravagant staircase, the huge chandelier, and the pristine tiles when Carleigh emerges from the lounge upstairs and descends. Carleigh is wearing a strawberry printed bikini and holding a rudimentary-looking cocktail in her left hand. When she sees me with Reed, she freezes.

"Laur, are you leaving?" Carleigh gives me a hug, then steps back to look Reed up and down. I try not to laugh when I see him squirm a bit. Carleigh's energy is a bit full on to anyone who meets her for the first time. It's part of what makes her so charming. "Who's this?"

Ignoring her question for a beat, I tease, "Where have you been, miss hostess?"

There's a gleam in her eye, a barely concealed lift to the corner of my beautiful friend's mouth. Her red hair is a bit mussed. "Getting to know my future husband."

When I look to the stairs, I see the first boy from the reception trying to fix the mismatched buttons on his shirt. I giggle. "I see. Well, I hope you haven't forgotten about the rest of us. This is Reed."

Reed's eyes dart around, but he quickly steps forward and shakes Carleigh's hand. He smiles widely.

"Nice to meet you, handsome." Her eyes sparkle at him, but I feel no jealousy. She doesn't mean it deeply, or suggestively. It's stated as plain fact, because she's right: Reed is handsome.

Carleigh is effervescent. Always is, always has been. She is light in the way that I can't be, and thus she was blessed with the ability to charm and flirt her way through life without the need of fooling anyone into thinking she is interested. Besides, she is the best judge of character that I know. Something about effortless beauty and a twinkling laugh make it easy for strangers to reveal themselves.

Carleigh turns back to me and gives me a kiss on the cheek. "Clearly you are set on leaving. Drive safe." She points a lavender painted acrylic at Reed's pretty smile, only half joking as she says, "And you get her back home without a scratch."

Reed gives a salute. "I'm going to go grab the car for us, Lauren," he tells me, walking at a pace that makes it seem like he's grateful to escape her scrutiny.

I stay behind and my best friend grabs my hands. "Your mom would be proud of you." 

"For being sober at a party like this?" A half-hearted smile crosses my face. I've ignored that ache all week, seeing my dad and Charlotte prepare for their big day. I know that Mom is smiling down on them, giving Charlotte the biggest of blessings, so it doesn't hurt or burn or feel wrong. It is just this dull ringing, because I never imagined getting to this point without her.

Carleigh smiles too, but shakes her head no. "For being exactly who you are, in this moment." She takes my hand again and gives it a gentle squeeze before adding, "Maybe the sober thing too, actually, because everyone knows that if it were me, I'd be blacked out before we even got through makeup." Carleigh sees Reed's car pull up, and she knows it's time for me to go. "By the way, I approve."

"Oh, of him?" I flush red. "I don't really know if it's like that."

Carleigh rolls her eyes; I'm a creature of habit, after all, and she knows I am downplaying it. "Whatever. I still approve."