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“Who’s that?” Haleyasks.
“No idea.” I look through the peephole and groan as I open the door. My brother’s standing in the frame, looking betweenus.
“What are you doing here?” Idemand.
“I’mgrounded.”
“That in no way answers myquestion.”
He rolls his eyes. “Mom’s working, and dad’s traveling. So, they sent me toyou.”
This is my real punishment for forging my dad’s signature. Keeping my brother out of harm’s way during my preciousdowntime.
“Hey, Beck,” Haleysays.
I grab my things. “We’re going wedding dress shopping.” I shoot a look at Beck, expecting him to run the other direction. But he looksintrigued.
“Can I come? I candrive.”
I turn back to Haley. “Don’t you want a day withoutteenagers?”
She shrugs as if she’s genuinely indifferent. “It can’t make looking at giant, overpriced lace garments I’ll only wear once anyweirder.”
I look between them. “Fine. You’re carrying anybags.”
True to his word, Beck drives us and finds his own parking, leaving me and Haley some personaltime.
“How’s Jax?” I ask as we make our way to the first boutique. “Can you drag him into weddingstuff?”
“Are you kidding? He’s obsessed. Grace and Annie aren’thelping.”
I picture Jax’s sister, his closest family, and the now-fourteen-year-old who endeared Haley to Jax from thebeginning.
“We’ve decided on a venue. We’re doing it inDallas.”
“Is the band standing up forJax?”
“Yep. Mace, Kyle, and Brick are all going to be there. Annie’s going to be my flower girl. She and Tyler are singing at theceremony.”
My chest aches. “God, that’ll be one cute couple. Are they doing that high-school-datingthing?”
Haley shakes her head as we walk the block to the shop. “No. But the second they do, they’re both getting The Talk from Grace, Jax, and everyone else who’ll tellthem.”
At the first boutique, the clerk pulls some dresses. Haley checks one tag, and her eyesbulge.
I glance at it. “Jax’s broken guitar strings would costmore.”
“And I stab myself with those every day,” she mumbles, but she goes to try oneon.
My friend comes out, and I shake myhead.
We go oh-for-three at the firstboutique.
Oh-for-six at thesecond.
By the third boutique, Beck’s declared he’s bored of waiting in the car. “I didn’t know you’d be, like, anhour.”
All three of us go inside, and the clerk at the desk asks for our names. “I’m sorry. I don’t have your appointmentlisted.”
