The Survivors

Chapter Two: Matrimony, pt. 3

Corrina’s early evening wedding went beautifully. The bridal party looked beautiful, walked down the aisle slowly, and undershone Corrina, who looked stunning in a floor length cream-colored ball gown with a train half the length of the aisle. Each bridesmaid wore a dress Corrina had had designed to flatter each of us, all in a surprisingly pretty orange silk. Mine was closely fitted to my body, cut to my knee. It scooped off my shoulders and across my collarbones in the front and dipped so low in the back that it was almost backless. The dress sat so far down the curve of my shoulders that it had to be held in place by double-sided tape, but it had well-tailored, super long sleeves. I had never asked, but Corrina knew. Another reason I loved her.

Cole and I had ended up spending a lot of the day together. Whenever anyone from his camp needed something from ours, we were the go-betweens. This worked out surprisingly well for me since I didn’t feel the need to touch up or primp after my makeup and hair were done for me, and it worked out for Cole, I guessed, because he wanted to spend time with me. When we were relaxed during the day, I had no trouble reading his emotions. If I stayed focused on my reading—instead of on those clear blue eyes—I did fine. I knew what he was thinking, how confident he felt, how he couldn’t wait for this to be him. I tuned out a little then, to give him some privacy. As my readings on people were becoming clearer, I was going to have to learn how to control them so I didn’t overstep my bounds. It’s not like I had asked permission to feel their innermost feelings and know their innermost thoughts.

At the reception, I was never alone. Either I was tending to Corrina—filling her glass, primping the dress, or touching up her lipstick—or I was side-by-side with Cole. His feelings for me were growing so quickly that it seemed impossible. I wasn’t even saying that much. I wasn’t sure how his affection could swell at such a pace.

When we sat down to dinner at the reception, I was not surprised to see Cole’s name next to mine once again. I was a little sad to realize that I would have to eat again, though. It wasn’t something I did often, particularly this much food in so little time. I felt like I might burst open.

Several of Corrina’s family members incorrectly assumed that Cole and I were together. How obvious the affection between us—however imbalanced—must be if complete strangers were reading our interactions as romantic! After the third person said something, I stopped correcting them. I could feel a strong satisfaction from Cole when he noticed this, but I was just tired of correcting people. It was easier to be what they expected. That had been my philosophy on being human since the day I started passing for one.

At random points in the evening, I was glad that he did not leave me alone to brave the sea of people on my own. He was being protective. And I was grateful.

After we watched Corrina and Felix dance their first dance, Corrina’s father spin her around, and Felix dance with his mother, a surprisingly large number of people sauntered onto the dance floor. They were playing music a couple might actually dance to together—not the hideous stuff I’d heard at parties that evoked in young people the need to rub up against each other no matter where they were, and with no regard for the company they were in. This made it less scary to accept when Cole asked me to dance, but it didn’t take away all my fears.

As he took my hand and guided me onto the dance floor, his hand felt warm, and I realized that, after days of unbearable heat, I had finally started to cool off. I was worried that he had noticed my odd temperature, but if he had, he didn’t react to it or even think about it enough for me to be able to sense it. He walked me to the very center of the dance floor and turned to face me. I stood a few inches away and gently placed one hand on his shoulder, the other hand in his. He lightly held my waist, and looked at me very carefully for a moment before we began, as if he were trying to decide something. Just then, he wrapped his arm further around me, pulling me toward him so the length of his body matched up with mine. His hand was high enough and my dress was cut low enough on my back that he was touching the bare skin. I felt a tingling like an electric shock travel through his warm hands as they lay on my cool skin. No one had ever touched me there before.