Never Really Over (Bremmy 3)

Chapterish 65

I woke up this morning with one thing on my mind (not Paul Newman OR a ride home). And I've spent all day trying to stop thinking about it. I help Brody set up the tables in the backyard, help my mother hang up new bulb string lights. I even rake some leaves from the deck landing, staring out at the swirling gray ocean the whole time.

I still don't have a plan, no grandiose token of my love to show. Part of me is just hoping I'll know what to do when I see her. When we're done getting the yard ready, I spend the rest of the afternoon lounging *overthinking*. I make the mistake of opening my phone and seeing Cece's latest lingerie shoot.

My finger taps her little icon and it brings me to her page. I see she's deleted all traces of me. I hesitate for one second before hitting unfollow. I toss my phone down and decide to shower. After, I pick out a dark sweater and pull on my nice jeans. I'm attempting to do something with my hair when I hear Lauren's voice carrying up the stairs.

I glance in the tiny mirror that's at the top of the landing between mine and Brody's rooms. I laugh, thinking that it's a very Josh outfit. Am I trying too hard? Maybe.

In the 10 more minutes it takes to go downstairs, the kitchen and deck are already overflowing with people. It smells like shrimp and Alfredo sauce and anxiety. Guess which one is radiating from me.

"Here let me get that." I take a large tray of rolls from Lauren's mother who is about to eat shit on the threshold.

"Thank you, Jay," she says. "Thought I might drop it."

"No problem," I tell her. Her cloud of pungent perfume is another story.

"Jay, hun, Brody, can you two move the cooler across the deck? It's too heavy and I don't want to drag it," my mom asks us.

"Sure," I say, following Brody out the sliding doors.

The sky is darkening on the horizon. Brody's speaker plays music that perfectly blends with the waves like they're part of the same soundtrack. The black box is illuminated, rhythmically bouncing back and forth between neon pink and purple and green.

"You ready for this?" Brody asks.

"I am," I nod, knowing what he's asking if I'm ready for. "You?"

"Homestretch," he says, inhaling.

We drop the cooler down right when Travis and Trix turn the corner. Alex and Whit follow them down the side-yard. My eyes search beyond their heads, looking for a particularly perfect blonde one.

Sometime later I find myself separated from the party. I escaped through the spindly trees to regroup, gather my thoughts, wallow a bit. My lips close on the bottle when I see her heading for the garden bench. I inhale and shake my limbs to wake them up, and walk right up to her.

...

There are no speeches tonight. No toasts or ridiculous moments. Just a casual buffet-style dinner, trays filled with chicken and sausage and farfalle.

I pile my plate high with sausages, silently cursing Brody the whole time. He would interrupt my alone time with Emmy. Leave it to anyone at the party -it's him! I don't know why I'm bothering with food, to be honest. I have no appetite right now. Well, I have an appetite for one thing.

I'm just counting down the minutes until I have a second chance.

Emmy sits at a folding table on the grass at the bottom of the stairs, just 10 feet from our clandestine garden rendezvous spot. She's between Meg and Whit and two other girls whose names I don't know. She is the most perfect specimen on the planet and my failed attempt at small talk is embarrassing.

I don't know what's wrong with me. I've had this woman bent over in every position on the planet -I know her favorite books and her greatest fears -I've seen beneath the fabric of her soul. Yet I can't talk properly in front of her.

"Didn't go as planned, then?" Alex asks, walking up next to me with a plate in his hand.

"You were watching?" I stare sideways.

"Not on purpose," he says.

"Nope. Not as planned." I shake my head.

"You aren't moping, are you?"

"No," I lie. "A bit."

"You're overthinking it, dude," he says. "It's gonna happen. Just let it take its time."

Alex pulls two beers from the cooler with his free hand and puts one in mine.

"Come on."

I follow him off the deck, smiling at random people and saying 'yes, I am the best man' about 10 times. He sits down at the girls' table across from Whit. I take the seat next to his, which is semi-across from Emmy.

One of the no-name girls is telling Emmy she subscribes to Go Zen's website or app or whatever, and Whit is showing pics of her wedding guest dress to Lauren.

"Ladies," Alex says, announcing us as we sit down.

"Hey Brooks. Where you been tonight?" Whit asks.

"Fucking off with Travis and Nate. What else is new?" Alex answers. His eyes catch mine and he smirks.

He knows where I just came from -who I was just with. Not Travis or Nate.

"Speaking of, where are they?" Whit asks, her neck craning around. "Haven't seen Meg in a while either."

"They're down the beach collecting driftwood," Trix says, spearing pasta with her fork.

"Let me guess," I say. "Bonfire?"

"So you have met us," Emmy laughs.

We lock eyes. A universe is born. No big deal.

"It's a perfect night for it," Whit says. "I'm getting more wine, anyone need anything?"

We all throw our drink requests at her, laughing as she rolls her eyes. "I was being polite."

She whisks away from our table and returns in seconds hoisting an entire bottle of white.

"That's my girl," Alex cheeses at her.

Brody and Lauren join us a few minutes later. I'm hoping Lauren is getting all her drunken nerves out now so her wedding day is spared.

"Oof, I'm stuffed," Lauren says. "I need everyone to leave."

"Babe!" Brody laughs into her hair, hugging her.

"Not everyone," she giggles. "Just most of them."

"It is almost Nine. Maybe they'll leave soon," I say, shrugging.

"Fire pit is ready," Nate says, arriving at the table with Meg.

"Travis just started it," Meg says.

"Shall we?" Alex says, standing from the table.