“Sophie hi-jacked the desk clerk. She took her to the chapel. Is there a number for the chapel?”
Nick shakes his head and sighs. “No, there isn’t. Unless we want to break the glass, we’re trapped.”
I glance at the window. “It’s not going to break.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Sophie threw a wooden music box at me when we were little. I ducked and it hit the window. The window didn’t break.”
“So we use something heavy.”
“It was heavy. That thing was a brick, that’s why I didn’t just catch it. We both thought the window would break, but it didn’t.”
Nick looks desperate. His brow is covered in beads of sweat and he’s pacing the floor like a mad man. He runs his hand over his forehead and through his hair. With every turn he repeats the action. Something has him on edge, like this wedding is a life or death event for him. He mutters to himself, trying to think of other ways to get out of the room.
I grab my phone and text Sophie: I WON’T DO IT. I’M SORRY. PLEASE, LET US OUT.
I know in my heart she did this, but my friend doesn’t respond. I press my eyes together in frustration and throw my phone at the wall. The casing protects it so it just falls to the floor with a thump. Nick turns and sees me, tears forming in my eyes. “I’m going to miss my best friend’s wedding.”
I sit down hard on the edge of the bed. In this moment, I hate myself. I was willing to become someone I swore I’d never be, but Sophie saw it. I didn’t. She sacrificed her wedding pictures because her best friend was too dumb to listen. I ruined her memories. She won’t have any. I plant my face in my hands and try not to cry.
I wouldn’t have been that selfless. Can she even still be my friend after this?
Nick’s frantic pacing stops when he sees me. At first he says nothing, then, shucking his tux jacket, he comes and sits next to me on the bed. “This is my fault. I know you probably won’t believe me, but for what it’s worth—I’m sorry.”
I laugh, but it’s bitter. “That’s amazing. How do you make it sound so sincere?” I sit up straight and wipe the tears from my eyes. “I have to know. How do you lie to someone’s face and pretend that they matter to you when they don’t? It’s a business skill that I’m obviously lacking and desperately need.”
Nick turns away quickly so I can’t see his face, but I don’t stop. “Tell me, Nick. After you hose this business, I have nothing, like, literally nothing. My best friend isn’t going to talk to me ever again, and I’ll lose my business because I couldn’t outmaneuver you. You stole my clients and drove my business into the ground. Now, I have to sit here with you until someone comes and lets us out. Somehow, I’m guessing that will be Sophie with a chainsaw tomorrow morning!” By the time I’m done, I’m crying, yelling, and laughing. The image of Sophie in her wedding dress with a chainsaw is funny. I can’t help it.
My emotions explode and splatter everywhere. I can’t hide them anymore. That’s when I shove Nick’s shoulder. “And you. Why’d you have to cheat? I could have handled everything up until that point, but you frickin’ cheated!”
He turns to look at me. “Just what did I cheat at? If I did cheat I’m unaware of it. I play angles, crush hopes, and mislead—but I don’t flat out cheat.”
“Well, isn’t that refreshing?” I stare at the floor.
Nick grimaces and then inhales deeply, before running his fingers through his hair. “I can’t change who I am. I’m a Ferro through and through. You knew it when you first met me—that’s why you tossed me out without a packet. You saw through me every moment after that. You knew I’d take you down, but you put up a helluva fight.”
“Not that it matters—I’ve already lost. Without pictures from this wedding, I can’t keep my shop open.” I feel numb. A goofy, sad smile consumes my face and I look up, and blurt out. “That isn’t even the worst part. The worst part is Sophie doesn’t trust me anymore. That’s why we’re locked in here. She didn’t want me at her wedding.” I sniffle and then laugh awkwardly, glancing at Nick who’s intently watching me. “I’ve never had a friendship end this way before.”
“It’s my fault, not yours.”
“No, it’s not. I was going to do something to you and I told her.” I straighten and run my fingers through my hair until I reach the place where it’s pinned up at the back of my head. Smiling sadly, I tell him, “I was going to get back at you for the double-sided coin.”
He looks confused. “What are you talking about?”
“The coin toss, smart ass. You used a double-sided coin.”
“I did not—I don’t operate that way. If I were to try something, it would be untraceable. A fake coin is amateur hour. I’d get caught.” Nick is watching me intently. The tight fake smile fades from my face as I think back to the other night.
I stand abruptly, walk to the bathroom, and come back with the few coins I found by the sink. “These are yours, right?”