Page 44 of Bridesmaid for Hire
I’m sitting across from Maggie as she dives into her lunch that we ordered while we were still hanging out with the Hoppers, but once it arrived, we all dispersed into our own corners of the pool area. I found a table far away so I could have a little chat with mygirlfriend.
“Why do you look angry? You don’t have to try it if you don’t want to.”
I snatch the slider and shove the whole damn thing in my mouth.
“Hey, I said a bite, not the entire slider. Who does that?”
I chew, swallow, and then say, “Really, you’re going to complain? After the brutal beating you just handed me back there?” I thumb toward the Hoppers.
“Brutal beating?” Her brow creases in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“I thought we weren’t embarrassing each other in front of the Hoppers.”
“We aren’t,” she says and yup, she’s completely oblivious.
“Did you black out back there?” I ask. “Or are you playing dumb?”
“Why are you speaking in riddles?”
“I’m not,” I nearly shout. “I’m telling you, Maggie, that you embarrassed me.”
“What? How?”
“How?” I feel my brain nearly explode. “Talking about all the Rebels rituals Gary and I do.”
“How is that embarrassing?” she asks. “That’s like…locker-room talk.”
“First of all, girls are not part of locker-room talk, and second of all, Gary and I haven’t told anyone about those rituals. They’re sacred and thanks to you, they probably won’t work anymore, and the Rebels will always lose, and it’ll be your fault. I hope that’s a bitter cup of tea you’re ready to swallow.”
She presses her hand to her forehead, looking as exasperated as I feel. “Okay, first of all, those rituals barely work and the Rebels winning or losing has nothing to do with you booping my brother on the nose or feeding him subpar potato salad.”
I point at her and hiss, “That potato salad is made for heroes, and you know it. It has all the flavors of a cool summer day while posing thoughtful questions to your tastebuds like…is that dill?”
“You are deranged.” She shakes her head and reaches for another one of her sliders, but I steal it before she can. I bring it to my mouth, and she yelps, “Don’t.”
“Say you’re sorry.”
“Sorry for what? Were you really embarrassed?”
“Yes,” I say. “They were laughing at me.”
“Oh my God, Brody, it was a stupid story.”
“That made me look like an idiot.”
“Well, I’m glad you see it that way, because when you’re twirling around singing ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ as a grown-ass man with your clothes on backward, you sure do look like an idiot.”
I bring the slider closer to my mouth, and she holds her hand out.
“Stop, don’t. Okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was embarrassing you. It won’t happen again.”
I study her for a second and then hand it back. “Thank you. Now…tell me something embarrassing so I can get even.”
“Do you really think I’m going to do that?”
“If you were half the woman you pretend to be, you would.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
