Page 144 of Chaos at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 2)
There are so many shades of meaning to that question, but I nod anyway, standing up and turning around so he can see me with my hair and makeup done. We hired one of Stacey’s girls to do it. She wasn’t bad, but she’s no Ivy Hightower.
I wet my lips.
Nope.
No more thinking about business today. Business was yesterday. Business was watching Ms. Keating (who’s now in the hospital, thanks to Vaughn) get pistol-whipped. Business was being chased by the Thing through the cemetery. Business was putting him in an early grave.
“I’m ready,” I say aloud, offering my arm to Aaron. I haven’t looked outside yet to see who’s actually come for the wedding, but it doesn’t matter because the Havoc Boys will be here. That’s enough of an audience for me. Although … part of me would have loved to see Pamela’s face when Aaron walks me down the aisle.
Aaron hooks his arm through mine, leaning over to give me a kiss on the forehead. His signature scent surrounds me, calming my nerves and blocking out the wet stink of rotten floorboards and crumbling plaster ceilings.
I’ve chosen to walk down the aisle to the tune of Numb Without You by The Maine, but the orchestral version, not the one with lyrics. For some reason, when I first heard it, I thought of me and Vic. If couples truly have their own songs, then this one is most definitely ours.
Callum slips back outside, waiting by the doors until Aaron and I give the knock to indicate that we’re ready. I can just barely see the altar through the grimy windows that flank the double front doors. An arch of pink roses soars above Victor’s purple-dark hair, Oscar centered beneath them, our sadistic little wedding officiant.
“Fuck, I’m scared,” I murmur, and Aaron laughs softly. I glance briefly in his direction.
“I’d be worried if you weren’t,” he tells me, putting his hand over mine. His touch comforts me, and I close my eyes for a moment, just to catch my breath. “But as much as I hate Vic sometimes, I trust him with my life.” Aaron pauses a moment, and I open my eyes to look at him. He’s staring at the floor and not at me, but his expression isn’t unpleasant. Actually, he looks a little surprised. “I trust him with the love of my life, too, apparently.” He scoffs a harsh laugh and then glances back at me.
All I can do at that point is smile.
My stomach is a mess of black butterflies, reminding me that I am, in fact, still human.
I’m a seventeen-year-old girl who’s about to get married.
Of all the things that I am, that I’ve become, that one is definitely the strangest.
Without another word, I reach up and rap my knuckles against the wood.
Deep breath, Bernie, deep breath.
Callum opens the doors for me and Aaron and then steps aside, pressing play on his phone and sending spirals of beautiful music out of the speakers placed on either side of the porch. It takes a second for me to adjust to the sight of a wedding, a real wedding, before I can force myself to start walking.
Victor is waiting, his best man by his side. Hael Harbin grins at me and winks, giving me a little salute with his inked fingers. In his gaze, I can read so many things that have been left unsaid. It’s not my baby; I feel free; I want to move on with you, Bernie. He said as much before, when we had sex on the hood of his Camaro.
I glance at the white folding chairs on either side of the walkway. There are only a half-dozen in total, and I smile when I spot Kara and Ashley in the front row. Kara grins over her shoulder at her brother and gives us a thumbs-up, but Ashley just buries her head in the puffy sleeve of her cousin’s dress.
Heather stands in front of me, holding a basket of pink rose petals. She smiles at me, but I know that when she told me that she shipped me and Aaron, and not me and Victor, she was serious. I don’t know how to explain to her that I don’t intend on keeping just one for myself.
The breeze picks up around us, making the trees shiver and shaking off whatever leaves they have left. Heather takes that as her cue to turn around and start walking, dropping rose petals in her wake.
I follow after, nice and slow, my combat boots comfortable beneath the voluminous magic of my dress. With my left arm, I hold onto Aaron. My right, I tuck into the pocket on the dress, fingering the old, wrinkled envelope that contains my list.
Victor’s mother, Ophelia, is here, glaring at us. So is her sleazy car salesman-like boyfriend, Todd. I’m surprised to see that Vic’s dad is in attendance, too, and I just suddenly miss my own so much it hurts.
