After everyone settled down and the champagne was brought out, Guinevere walked to the front of the ballroom. The lighting changed slightly, focusing on her. She didn’t look nervous at all to me, but maybe she had just gotten used to covering it up. She moved to the side, and an old picture was projected onto the wall, showing two little girls dressed in jean jumpers, their hair in pigtails and their arms around each other. Little Guinevere made a peace sign as young Stephanie appeared to be squeezing the life out of her.
“The day I met then Stephanie Murray was the first day of kindergarten. The first grade boys had decided to mess with us, and I, being the rebel I always was, was not going to have that. No one backed me up.”
Stephanie and her parents groaned together, trying not to laugh, when all of a sudden the picture changed to one of them sitting on two boys and high-fiving each other.
Oddly, she took a long pause as if considering something before blinking and turning back to Stephanie. “No one but Stephanie. Safe to say, no matter what happened in my life, when I turned back, she was always there. She was there when, at fourteen, we decided to hitchhike cross-country, but only made it as far as the bus station before panicking and running back home. She was there when, at sixteen, we thought dyeing our hair white would make us look more mature. And she was there every step of the way, encouraging me to follow my dreams. So when I first met Nathaniel, I was a little jealous. I kept wondering: who is this boy, trying to take away my best friend? It took me a while, but I saw it, the way she smiled so wide it looked like her face would break. How he was always so willing to jump into whatever she was doing…with slightly more logic than we had together. How he made her world ten times bigger, and it made me so thankful.” She tried not to cry. “Because my best friend was with the best person for her, and she was going to get to laugh and smile like that for the rest of her life, the way she deserved to. You're one lucky guy, Nathaniel, and thank you. Please never stop what you're doing.”
When she was done, she took a deep breath, handing the microphone back as Stephanie came over to give her a tight hug.
“Do you like her?” my mother asked.
Her question forced my eyes back to her. “No.”
“Yes,” Logan answered. “If you don’t, why does it bother you so much when I say you do? If you didn’t like someone, you wouldn’t even think about it. It’s because you like her and would rather not admit it that you get angry.”
“We just met each other—”
“I knew your father for two weeks before we dated. Four when he told me he loved me,” my mother added, giving me a look before she drank her water.
“For the last time, we are just friends.”
“Okay.” Logan raised his hands. “Keep staring at your just friend like she’s the only woman in the room. I’m sorry.”
When she came back to our table, she took the empty seat by me, not Logan.
I hated how she now smelled like roses because of all the damn flowers. She always smelled like fresh rain… What am I thinking?
“Your speech was beautiful, dear,” my mother said to her.
“Thank you.” She smiled, but it wasn’t real.
“What is it?” Something was bugging her, I could tell.
She leaned over, putting her hand on my arm. “Whatever you do, don’t look back. Hannah and Sebastian are sitting two tables over.”
My first instinct was to turn, but she squeezed.
“Don’t look. I was just going to leave, but I didn’t want you to not know. Seeing them together will just make us upset, and with the alcohol we will make a scene. Please, not tonight.”
Grabbing the water, I nodded. Attending had been a bad idea, I’d known it all along.
“Have you taken all your photos, Gwen?” my mother asked, leaning toward us.
She nodded.
“Then Eli, take her home. I will tell them you weren’t feeling well. It’s all right to not be here.”
“I’m fine, thank you. I did nothing wrong. Why should I run away? Today has nothing to do with either of them, that’s old news. I wish them the best.” Gwen watched as Nathaniel’s best man did his speech.
“Oh, thank you, but I didn’t ask for this,” she said when a waiter came over with a plate of steak.
“I did, for you. You didn’t like the fish, right?” She hadn’t eaten anything but bread and the broccoli off her plate while sitting with us. I figured she didn’t want to tell them to take it back and get something else.
She looked at me.
“What, don’t you like meat?”
“No, I do. Thank you, I was starving,” she replied before cutting into her food.
Even though I’d heard her tell me not to, I couldn’t help but tilt my head to the side slightly, scanning the room for them.
“Don’t, Eli,” she said, not even looking up before taking a bite.