The Unforgettable Infatuation

Chapter One

This story was inspired by Ed Sheeran's song, Perfect.
No, I mean that quite literally. I heard the song, pictured one scene in my head, and took three weeks or so to actually plan out an entire story.
So let me know what you guys think!
Enjoy!

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Seven months ago, February 13th:

"Well, are you going?" I question, digging through my dresser for a pair of sweatpants.

"Um...no." Dad responds.

"Why not?"

"Because she's my ex wife..." he trails off.

"So? Aren't you supposed to support her still? Or me, at least?"

"You're twenty three." Dad responds. "And I haven't seen your mother in eight years. Why would I support her?"

"I haven't seen her in eight years either, Dad! I don't want to go!"

"She put the wedding in Florida just so you would go. She made it as close to Cape Coral as she could just so you would go. She bought your plane ticket just so you would go, and she called me for the first time since we moved to make sure it was okay for you to stay at my house. You have to go, Casey. Your mother is counting on you."

I groan loudly, so loud that my roommate hits the wall that has the living room on the other side and shouts "Oi, are you having sex?"

I stop groaning and rub my face with my left hand.

"Come on kiddo, just got to the wedding and then you can avoid her until your own wedding." Dad urges.

"But-"

"I'll pick you up at the airport at nine. Tomorrow you're going dress shopping with Sam. Love you Case."

The line clicks.

I let out a harsh sigh and bend forward, throwing my wet blonde hair into a bun.

I pull on a pair of black sweatpants and a gray t-shirt.

I shove my feet into my black converse and grab my suitcase, lugging it into the living room where my roommate and best friend, Delaney sits.

"You couldn't get out of it?" She asks.

I glare at her. She snickers.

"Let's go." She stands up and grabs her car keys, texting her boyfriend back as she walks down the stairs.

"How's Travis?" I ask as I follow her down to her Chevy Malibu.

She shrugs in response, tossing her own suitcase in the trunk. I throw mine in also, and she slams it shut.

"Same old, same old. I'm so nervous to meet him."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

Delaney met some guy on Tinder a year and a half ago. She has never met him in person, but since I'm leaving town, she's going to fly to Boston to see him. Tonight, Delaney will meet her boyfriend in person, after a year and a half of FaceTime, FaceTime sex, and sleeping on the phone every night.