Jessica was London’s niece, so that made her family. I’d been Jessica’s friend for years and London had half raised me, so I guess I was part of her family in some way, too.
There just wasn’t a quick and easy name for a configuration like ours, although that didn’t make it any less substantial. This really hit home when Loni asked me to be one of her bridesmaids. Now that she’d hooked up with the president of the Reapers motorcycle club, I was realizing that meant the whole club was somehow part of our larger world. I supposed under other circumstances, I might’ve even considered going out to the party. I couldn’t, though—Jess hated the clubhouse and she flat out refused to visit. Something bad had happened to her out there last year. I wasn’t entirely sure about the details, and I didn’t care, either. If she didn’t want to go, then I didn’t want to, either. We’d just stay home and get a leg up on our homework while they all partied. Or at least, that’d been the plan before Kit and Em and their booze showed up out of nowhere to talk bachelorette-party plans.
“Okay, we’re completely off track here,” Jessica said. I blinked at her, feeling the world around me spin just a little. That last big swallow had hit me hard. “Does London even want a bachelorette party? I just can’t see her enjoying it.”
“Every woman wants a bachelorette party,” Kit announced. “And we’re gonna do this right. I’ll admit—I wasn’t on board with them together at first. I still get creeped out thinking she’s sleeping with Dad night after night . . .”
“Better her than the random girls he used to drag home,” Em said, wrinkling her nose. “Half of them were younger than me. One time he even fucked a girl dressed like a carrot. London’s a big step up.”
Jess and I looked at each other. Carrot?
Ask her about the carrot! I mouthed silently at Jess.
No fucking way, she mouthed back, eyes wide.
“Okay, so I can see two ways to do this,” Kit declared. “We can either do whatever it takes to make London happy or we can do whatever it takes to make Dad’s head explode, which would make me happy. So I vote for exploding his head.”
“The key is to plan something she’ll like that still makes his head explode,” I declared, falling into the spirit of things. “We should get her some strippers and then text him pictures of them grinding on her.”
“Could we use The Line?” Jessica asked, intrigued. The Line was a strip club the Reapers owned. I’d driven by it but never been inside.
“It’s a thought,” Kit said. “They won’t want to close it and lose money, but maybe we can get some sort of special ladies’ night event set up. I know they’ve done them before. That way they still make their money, we can have a party for London, and Dad’s head will explode. Everyone wins.”
I stood slowly, swaying.
“I need to pee,” I announced gravely, drunker than I’d realized. Should’ve eaten more crackers . . . except the last one I’d had tried to kill me. Sneaky little bastards.
“Do you need help?” Jess asked, and I started laughing at her joke, because of course I didn’t need help. What did she think I was, a preschooler? Nobody else laughed, though, and I realized she was serious. That was even funnier, so I started giggling even harder. So hard I fell down, setting all of them off, too.
“You sure you don’t need help?” Kit asked. I shook my head, which made me dizzy again.
“No, I think I can handle it.”
? ? ?
It took a lot longer to finish than I expected, mostly because I’d accidentally locked the bathroom door on the way in and then I couldn’t figure out how to unlock it.
I really needed to stop drinking out of Kit’s cup.