Team Spirit

39. Sam Fishes in the Dark

39. Sam Fishes in the Dark

The mirror tells me more than I want to know. I could go without the reminder that my face has never been redder in my entire life and I haven't even left the house yet. I don't need to be thinking about how my roots look and whether or not I should've let Crystal re-dye my hair or if it looks better a little faded or if it just looks like I don't care.

My hands shake so bad my fingers won't even tie a bow tie. I think I missed a step.

"Good God, Sam, you'd think you were the one getting married today." Lars makes a show of drawing herself up from my bed, tossing aside on of Crystal's bridal magazines.

"I'd die of a heart attack if I was getting married today," I say.

"To be fair, most of your relatives probably would too." Lars skillfully knots my tie--the one she picked out. She also picked out my shirt, which Lars calls a 'delicate floral print' and I call 'inspired by Mom's good china'. The pattern looks like it came straight off a dinner plate, full of blue landscapes, one sleeve rolled awkwardly over my cast.

It looks good with the navy vest, though. Lars knows what she's doing.

Roman smirks from my desk and I choose to ignore him. He's a sign that Crystal is very happy about the dresses. She gave Lars not just one coveted seat, but two. I saw the wedding planning. I know how much this whole deal is worth per person.

Lars pulls my bow tie tight and smooths out the front of me. "There. Perfect gentleman."

I puff my breath out of my cheeks.

"You'll be fine," Lars promises.

As she says so, the engine of an unfamiliar car outside nearly stops my heart.

Mom and Crystal are at Crystal's house doing their hair and make-up. Dad and Pete went to go pick up the borrowed Mustang getaway car. Nobody's left at the house but me, Lars, and Roman.

Roman gets up to peek through the blinds.

"Sure looks like your guy. He cleans up impeccably," Roman says, "for a kid who wouldn't return your calls after--"

Lars is swift and swats Roman. "We only attack on command. Come on."

She links her arm through his and leads him down stairs. It takes me a minute longer, double-checking all the things in the mirror that I don't know how to fix anyway.

"Hey, Leo! Come on in," Lars crows downstairs. I step out of my room before I lose the nerve, take the stairs two at a time before I can change my mind.

There he is, caught in Lars' hug. Or she's caught in his.

He releases her, immediately meeting my eyes over Lars' shoulder. I'm weightless in a second. Or melting. Or both.

Leo looks older than he is, the navy stripes of his tie the dead giveaway that he asked Lars how to match me, but as a toned down version of himself. Gold curls tamed and flashing that killer Leo smile.

"I wish I had a personal stylist," Leo says, blushing and grinning until Lars gives him a half-hearted shove.

"You can ogle him in the truck. We should get going." She drags Roman out the door, but not before he shoots Leo a mixed look, maybe a little less judgemental than before. It's hard to stay mad at a face like that. Leo doesn't have the face of a person that means any harm.

I can't believe my sister is getting married. I can't believe Leo is actually coming to see the whole big show of it, the pique of my family's craziness all jammed into one community hall. I can't believe I want him to see it all. Crystal's giant princess ball gown, Pete inevitably hitting on her bridesmaids, my mythical father. My mom.