That Wedding Page 26

  "Do my feet feel cold?"

  I laugh. "No, they're never cold."

  "And yours always are. That's why we're perfect for each other. Mine are always hot. Yours are always cold. You cool mine down. I warm yours up. Together they make the perfect temperature."

  "So I actually do something that helps you?"

  "You make me a better man, Princess. That's why I wanna marry you."

  "Really?"

  He pulls me in close and kisses me. "Really."

  I'm at work, and I'm feeling uninspired in the new year. We had a really fun Jersey Shore themed New Year's Eve couple's shower. Everyone took it as an excuse to dress slutty, drink too much, and fist pump. I'm praying the horrible orange spray on tans everyone got will be worn off by the wedding!

  In Joey's brilliance, he decided rather than make everyone buy us a "stupid" shower gift, they should bring us something practical.

  And what's more practical than alcohol?

  Now we have a fully stocked bar, and numerous people who have invited themselves to come "break in" our new house. Phillip acted just like a bride usually does at her showers. He was oohing and aahing over every bottle of alcohol. He almost got tears in his eyes when Blake and Logan presented him with an "amazing" and expensive bottle of tequila.

  I didn't really drink much at the party. I don't know what's wrong with me lately. I used to be able to party and have fun.

  I think it might have something to do with my quickly approaching wedding. I also think it might have something to do with the fact that one thought keeps going through my mind. Over and over.

  No matter how right things feel with Phillip, God is never wrong.

  I can't seem to shake the feeling of bursting into flames. Every time I close my eyes, I can feel the fire engulfing my body. I know God was burning me for saying Phillip and I are perfect for each other.

  Why would he do that?

  And even worse, Phillip and I have another counseling session tonight. Our schedule got mixed up because of the holidays, and we haven't been there for three weeks. Part of me wishes I could talk about it, but I don't dare. Pastor would probably have me committed, and Phillip would probably think I'm nuts and decide not to marry me.

  I look down at the crap I've been drawing, wad the paper into a ball, and toss it into the trash.

  Maybe I just need to get out of here. Maybe I need to be in a different environment to feel inspired.

  I tell Phillip I'm gonna go the Sheldon Museum in Lincoln. He knows that's a place I often go when I need inspiration. I'm able to forget about my project and immerse myself in other people's creations. Usually when I do that, stop thinking so hard, the answers seem to come.

  But as I'm driving, I'm thinking I'm maybe looking for inspiration that's more divine.

  I think about who of my friends is the most religious.

  No, that's not right.

  Who of my friends is the most openminded religiously? And more importantly, who will not laugh in my face when I say God may have set me on fire?

  That'd have to be Nick. So I text him.

  Me: What's up?

  Nickaloser: Just finished unpacking from the bowl game. Thinking about getting drunk.

  Me: What happened to the whole my body is a temple and all that shit?

  Nickaloser: Kickers aren't really football players, remember? And now that the season is over, I can have some fun. And I fully intend to.

  Me: You know I was just teasing about that.

  Nickaloser: Yeah, I know. So what's up?

  Me: I'm on my way to Lincoln. Wanna hang?

  Nickaloser: Hell yeah!! Is Mac with you?

  Me: He's not. I'm going to the museum. Come with me?

  Nickaloser: That doesn't sound fun.

  Me: Please!! I need to talk about some stuff, and you're my most openminded friend.

  Nickaloser: I find I'm at my most openminded after a few shots. Meet me at the bar.

  Me: Fine. Keggers? Are you going alone?

  Nickaloser: No. I'm not a loser.

  Me: You're in my phone as Nickaloser :)

  Nickaloser: True. But I'm not a loner. Moose and Chaz are meeting me.

  Me: Are they religious?

  Nickaloser: Are you possessed? Do you need an exorcism?

  Me: I don't think so.

  Nickaloser: Then they will be fine. You freaking about Phillip?

  Me: Uh.....

  Nickaloser: Fine. Museum, first. Bar, second.

  Me: Thank you!!!! 20 minutes?

  Nickaloser: Sure.

  I walk up to the museum and see Nick standing outside waiting for me. I adore Nick and even though I love to tease him, he's no loser. He's adorable. Actually, don't laugh, but when he kicks off the football, I don't know, but the way he sorta skips and then like, boom, kicks the ball, is extremely sexy.

  He and I had a very short-lived romance, well, maybe more of a booze-filled romance. It lasted all of about two weeks. I never slept with him, really we didn't do much more than kiss. The one night I thought things might go further, he threw up on my shoes as we were staggering back to his apartment. I spent the night with him, cleaning up his puke, and constantly cursing myself for goading him into those last two shots.

  He never asked me out again, but we became good friends. I guess when you clean up someone's puke, it sort of bonds you, but it also makes me wonder.

  I greet Nick with a hug and blurt out, "Why didn't we work out romantically? Is it because I got you drunk?"

  He laughs. "No, that woulda been a good reason to keep you." He moves his head back and forth, like he's thinking how to say what he's about to say. "There's a couple reasons, I guess."

  "And they were?"

  "I wasn't going to listen to Danny's warnings cuz you were fun, but then Danny told me I didn't stand a chance because you liked Phillip."

  "Danny was dumb. I was into you," I say as I pay our admission into the museum.

  We stroll through the gallery and look at the paintings.

  "When it was just us, sure, but when Phillip was around, seriously, it was obvious who you were into."

  "No way."

  "You're delusional, still. And no offense, but I just don't see how a bunch of colors swirled around equals art."

  "Give me an example of how I was into Phillip when we were all sitting at the bar, and I was running my hand up your leg. And it's contemporary. It's supposed to evoke a feeling not look like something."

  "Yeah, that turned me on. Like you were this bad girl, who wanted me, and your boyfriend was sitting right there, clueless." He laughs. "And the art is making me feel like I need a drink."

  "My boyfriend?? That's dumb. Phillip and I were JUST friends!!"

  "Jay, you freaking light up like a Christmas tree when you're around Phillip. The way you two look at each other. The connection you have with your eyes, seriously, I felt like a peeping Tom watching someone having sex. It's intimate. Why do you think everyone thought you were having sex? Because you acted like you were. He'd lower his voice when he talked to you, and you hung on every word he said. At first, I thought he just crushed on you, but the more we all hung out, it was pretty obvious who had your heart. Danny was right. I couldn't win. Plus, I was messing around with this hot girl from my sports medicine class, so I was cool with it."

  I stop and look at him. "You were two-timing me? I'm appalled!"

  He laughs at me, shrugs his shoulders, like it's no big deal. "Jay, we didn't do anything. How could I have been two-timing you?" We stop to look at a bright modern painting, and he changes the subject. "So what are you freaking out about? And why the museum?"

  "I always come to the museum for inspiration, and I do think contemporary art is the way to go in the new building. But honestly, I probably shoulda gone to a church."

  "You need religious inspiration?"

  "Nick, has God ever spoken to you?"

  He looks at me kinda funny, so I give him my pathetic look.

  "Um,
uh, no. Well, I don't know. Maybe once, but I didn't know if it was Him or like my own brain."

  "That's exactly what I've been wondering!! Tell me!"

  "In high school, besides kicking, I played wide receiver. I got tackled when I was up in the air. Helmet to helmet, knocked me silly. I fell hard to the ground, had a concussion, and for a few scary minutes, I couldn't feel my body. I thought I was paralyzed. They wrapped me up on one of those back boards and carted me off the field. My mind flashed, I can't move. I'm paralyzed. Then quickly another voice, that wasn't my own, flashed in my head. It said, You're going to be fine. And then I like knew I was. At the time, I thought it was God's voice, but who knows. So did God talk to you?"

  "I think he did in a dream. He turned me into a burning bush, set me on fire when I told my friend that Phillip was the one for me. And in my mind, it was like He felt that was blasphemy. And I've been having a lot of dreams that are like tragic. At first, I thought, you know, I'm freaking, but I don't freak over guys. I really never have."

  "You never used to, but Phillip is different. You're different with him. Probably because for the first time in your life, you have skin in the game. You care about him. You're in love him. You want it to work. Plus, you're planning a wedding, and you're moving. Your stress is just coming out in your dreams."

  "I can see that with the other dreams I've had, but not this one. I really don't know if I should marry Phillip now. I'm almost positive God was trying to tell me not to, or he was threatening me or something."

  Nick bursts out laughing hysterically and extremely inappropriately for a museum. "You're funny. You know that, right?"

  "Stop laughing. I'm telling you this because you're my most openminded friend, and I thought you wouldn't laugh at me."

  He regains temporary control, wipes tears from his stupid eyes, looks at me, and then starts laughing again.

  I walk away, pretending to be intrigued by a Pollock painting.

  "I'm sorry," he chokes out while trying to control his giggling.

  "Are you high!? What's with the giggling?"

  He straightens out his face and says seriously, "Keggers, it is. I can't have this conversation here."

  We leave the museum with very little architectural inspiration and zero divine intervention.

  Maybe the bar is a good option.

  We walk in Keggers, and there behind the bar is my favorite hot and former fairly regular hookup, Bradley. He's drying a glass with a white rag and has a phone cradled on his shoulder. He looks irritated when Nick and I walk up to order drinks.

  But when he sees me, his green eyes sparkle. "Jadyn, baby, you looking for drinks or a little fun?"

  Nick holds out my engagement ring and says with a tone that's way too serious for a bar, "Definitely just drinks."

  Buzz kill.

  Bradley says, "Phillip?"

  And I was like, "How'd you know?"

  "Well, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to know who you've always had the hots for," he says as he pours three tequila shots.

  "Bradley, in this bar, I always had the hots for you," I flirt.

  Sorry, I can't help it.

  "You wanted to hookup with me, yes. But you've always had the hots for Phillip.

  "Of all the boys I've kissed in this bar over the years, you tell me I had the hots for the one boy I never kissed?"

  Bradley ignores my question and raises his shot glass. Nick and I follow suit. He says, "Here's to hookups."

  "Here, here," I say.

  He pours us each another shot. "And here's to finding true love. Congrats, Jadyn."

  "Here, here," Nick says.

  Bradley leans across the bar toward me and lowers his voice. "Although, I'm still extremely available if you came here for a hookup."

  Nick gets a disgusted look on his face. "We're going to our booth. Bring us a pitcher, okay?" Then he drags me away.

  "God, you're a flirt, and what's all the Jadyn babyyy bullshit?"

  "I don't know. He just always called me baby. It was cute, but I wasn't flirting with him. I said one sentence, and it was about Phillip."

  "You said here, here to hookups. I'd call that flirting, considering you've hooked up with the guy on numerous occasions."

  "What, all of a sudden you're anti-hookup? I'll be sure to let all the girls who talk to you tonight know that."

  "Hell, that's not a bad idea. They'll think I'm good guy, and that I'm not looking for a hookup. So then when we do hookup, they'll think it's cuz they wanted to. It's like reverse psychology. You just might be brilliant. So, do you wanna go back and flirt with him? If you hooked up with him, I probably wouldn't tell Phillip."

  "You're such a liar. You would so tell Phillip, but it doesn't matter. I don't wanna flirt with or hookup with him! I'm engaged to be married! AND I have enough to worry about. Plus, I could never cheat on Phillip."

  "You cheat on other guys?"

  "Um, not on purpose."

  "I'll take that as a yes. Accidental cheating. Ha! This is why I love you. You make me laugh."

  Just as I say, "So can we please get back to the burning bush?" Moose slides in the booth and says, "Ooohhh, I heard you had an STD, but I thought it was just a rumor. Does it really burn?"

  Oh. my. gosh.

  Nick starts laughing hysterically again.

  Seriously, can no one have a serious conversation anymore?

  I should have known before I even opened my mouth that you can't have a serious conversation with a guy named Moose, but I keep trying anyway. I mean I drove all this way.

  "Uh, no, I don't. We're talking about the religious burning bush."

  But he's a boy. And apparently his mind is not on the religious side of the bush right now.

  Bradley brings us a pitcher and three glasses just as Moose says, "I love hot bushes."

  Which causes Bradley to sit down.

  Why, oh why, isn't the bar busy?

  "My favorite subject," Bradley says. "Are we talking about Jadyn's? Cuz I can speak from experience on that one."

  "Do tell," Moose says.

  And I'm not going to say what he said. If I told this story, all our ears would be bleeding.

  Mine might be right now because I can't seem to totally tune out Bradley's discussion of my uh, well, oh, never mind.

  My ears just perked up though because he's now telling Moose, Nick, and Chaz, who just slid into the booth, what it was like to have wild alcohol-fueled sex with me. He's telling them about the time I fell up his stairs. They all laugh about that.

  People fall down stairs. They don't fall up them.

  But I'm getting nervous because I know what's coming next in this story.

  I try to get him off track by saying, "Chaz fell down the dorm stairs one time. It was really funny."

  They ignore me.

  Bradley says, "She was kinda drunk when we got to my apartment. I was dragging her up the stairs with me, but she was giggling and kept kissing and grabbing me. I just wanted to get her to my room before she woke up my roommates. We were about halfway to the top when she fell up the stairs. She giggled then pulled me down on top of her. It was so hot."

  I tune out the rest. I know the rest. I possibly coaxed him into, um, doing it, uh, right there on the stairs.

  This is all allegedly, I might add.

  He might be making it up.

  Because clearly I was drunk.

  At least that's what I'm gonna tell the boys. I say, "I don't remember that. Obviously, I was drunk, or maybe you're thinking of another girl."

  Bradley seems hurt by this and slunks back over to the bar.

  A few minutes later, I feel guilty and decide to go for a pretend pee.

  As I walk by the bar on the way back from the bathroom, I stop and ask Bradley for a round of shots.

  While he's pouring them, I confess. "Sorry about that. I do very vividly remember the stairs, and I wasn't drunk. I just really wanted you, but you telling that story was pretty embarrassing. You know, talking abo
ut it in such graphic detail."

  "So you do remember, huh?" He gives me a smoldering look.

  "It was one of the hottest experiences of my life," I say truthfully.

  And it was.

  Oh my gosh, was it.

  His face lights up in a grin. "Me too. You sure you're not up for a replay of that, like tonight?"

  "Bradley, I'd never try a replay of that."

  "Why?"

  "It was perfect as it was."

  "Mmm. True. I was so afraid my roommates were gonna wake up."

  "I don't think I cared."

  "Yeah, that was the best part. We had fun, huh?"

  "Yeah."

  "And now you're getting married. Where is Mr. Wonderful anyway?"

  "At work."

  "And why are you at the bar with a bunch of boys?"

  I look back at the boys loudly discussing their sex lives and sigh. "Well, I went to the museum. Really, I've been trying to talk to Nick about the burning bush, but it's not working because they keep turning it all sexual."

  "So are we talking the religious burning bush? Like Moses saw?"

  "Yeah."

  "You know I'm a philosophy major, right? Next semester, I'll finish up my doctorate."

  "Really? And here I thought you were just the hot bartender." Who knew he had brains too? I sorta never got past the hot physical parts.

  "So talk."

  And I do.

  It just all comes out. How cliche. Spilling my guts to the bartender.

  "So how do you know if God is speaking to you, versus your own subconscious telling you something, versus a premonition, versus a warning, versus a hunch, versus an omen, or versus your mind just freaking out?"

  "Do you want my professional opinion?"

  "Please."

  "Right off the bat, I'd say it sounds like you've been doing way too much thinking."

  "Yeah, probably." I let out a big sigh.

  "Tell me what happened."

  So I tell him about the dream.

  "Jadyn?"

  "Yeah."

  "You driving home tonight?"

  "I don't know. Yeah, maybe. Well, probably. I mean, I hadn't really thought about it yet."

  "I know you pretty well and can see where this is heading. So you're not now. You can crash with me if you need to."

  I raise an eyebrow at him. He says, "Okay, hang on."

  He walks over to the loser table, says a few words to Nick, and comes back.