Crash Into Me | ✓

thirty-one

The wedding was held down in the extravagant gardens by the main estate, and most of the sun had set behind us, keeping the crowd cool between the shade and the salty breeze. Rows of white chairs were lined up in front of an alter draped in white tulle and vines of red and orange azalea flowers. The bay served as the backdrop, calm and quiet as night approached.

It reminded me of something my sister would rave about on Pinterest, or something that should be photographed in those wedding magazines that sat in dentist offices.

"Weddings are so boring," Brooklyn muttered as he unbuttoned his suit jacket and lowered himself into a chair.

"Guess it's a good thing it's not your wedding," a deep voice behind us said.

Brooklyn's parents sat themselves in the seats behind us. His father wore all black and large sunglasses even though it was almost dusk. Brooklyn's mother put her hand on my shoulder, and I caught a glimpse of the large oval diamond that sparkled on her finger.

"You look fabulous, Natalie," she offered with a smile.

"Thank you." I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "I had a lot of help from Ella."

She tilted her head in Brooklyn's direction. "Keeping him out of trouble?" she asked with a pinched smile.

I tried to suppress an awkward chuckle. For a moment, I caught myself wondering how much Brooklyn's mother really knew. How many relapses she had seen, how much of her jewelry was missing, and how much time she had spent looking for rehab places to send him to. "Yeah, I am."

She gave my shoulder a squeeze before sitting back in her chair.

The wedding ceremony couldn't have been longer than 15 minutes. Brooklyn's cousin Kayleigh's gown was fully adorned with lace, and the train that draped off of her dress was probably five feet long. The officiate was a gangly, quirky kid who tried to crack jokes, but wasn't very funny. I exhaled, and I felt at ease as I leaned into Brooklyn's shoulder.

I was never one of those girls who fantasized about their wedding when they were 15. I didn't have Pinterest boards of all the dresses and rings I liked, and I never really had any friends that I swore would be in my bridal party. But sitting there listening to Kayleigh and Jackson exchange vows, and the smell of the flower petals as they danced through the air filling my nose, I thought maybe I could see myself doing it all. I'd wear a dress, and I'd carry lilacs in my bouquet, and I'd exchange vows with someone I wanted to be with for the rest of my life. Without thinking, I reached down and laced my fingers between Brooklyn's.

The reception was held just a few feet away from the ceremony gardens, up on the main deck of the estate. We were seated at long white tables that were dotted with candles and the same azalea flowers from the alter. Ricky and Ella sat across from us, and although various relatives stopped by to chat, nobody lingered around to speak to Brooklyn other than a hi and bye. I should have been relieved I didn't have to interact with strangers all night, but I felt a pang in my chest realizing how much of an outcast he really was. His past mistakes left him shunned and scorned, and it hurt my heart knowing he deserved better.

"Are you going to sit there and nurse your vodka tonic, or are you going to dance with me?" Ella called to me over the table. I opened my mouth to protest, but Ella darted around the table and pulled me up, nearly yanking my arms out of their sockets. I looked back at Brooklyn and mouthed "save me", but he just chuckled and shook his head. Ella took me to the center of the deck, which served as the dance floor. Lights danced across the tiles, and upbeat pop music I didn't recognize thrummed through the speakers. Every so often I glanced back to the table, where Brooklyn and Ricky sat alone, talking with their heads almost pressed together so they didn't have to shout above the noise and commotion.