"So who does?" she asked. "Aren't there any guys at school?"
"They're boys."
"If you don't practice with boys, how will you handle men?" We stopped walking and she glanced back at the fire, presumably at Manning. I didn't want to look, but I couldn't help it. I wanted to know where he was. How he was. Always. Even while he was shredding my heart. Manning looked back at us as he talked to one of Corbin's brothers.
"I mean, I don't know why you don't just go for it," she said. "He obviously loves you."
My breath caught in my throat before I realized she was looking beyond Manning, at Corbin. "This is what you wanted to talk to me about?" I asked, annoyed.
"No. Yes. I don't know." She snuggled closer to me against a gusty breeze. "We haven't talked much since I moved out."
"We have dinner together every Sunday."
"You know what I mean."
It wasn't the distance causing our rift. Did she know that? Did she know what she was doing to me, how much it hurt to even look at her right now? I could barely swallow their kissing and cuddling in front of me, the knowledge they were having sex, and now . . . she was taking forever from me. It didn't belong to her, and she had to know that, even if I hadn't said it aloud. I might've kept my love for Manning in the dark, but it was as impossible to ignore as the sun. "Do you love him?" I whispered.
Either she didn't hear or pretended not to. She smiled. This time, she was looking at Manning. "You know what he told me in the car? Dad's so happy about the wedding that he might try to make it happen this summer."
My mind reeled. My thoughts had been spinning since the party, and I wasn't sure I could take much more. A wedding, this summer? My dad, happy? I wanted to take my arm back from her, but I was afraid I'd sink to my knees. "But it's already summer."
"If Dad's offering up the Ritz, I'm taking it before he changes his mind. We have a lot of work to do. I haven't been this excited to do anything in a while, probably not since high school. First, you and I should take a trip to Barnes and Noble to clean out their bridal magazines. We'll need to stock up on Post-its to color-code the dresses by length, neckline, fabric . . ."
I billowed my sweater with my free hand to get some air against my skin. "Why can't Sarah help?" I asked. "You always say how bad my fashion sense is."
"I mean, she can." Tiffany looked at her pink-polished toes as she dug them into the sand. "I just thought you might want to."
The disappointment in her voice was evident even to me. Any other time, any other man, yes-I would've been happy to see Tiffany this way. More than happy. Normally everything was dumb or bogus or uncool or pathetic to her, yet on the biggest day of her life, she wanted to include me. But this was Manning. My Manning.
"I'm sorry, but I can't," I said. "Maybe there's some other way I can help."
Tiffany laughed so loudly, Manning, Corbin, and everyone else looked over at us. "Don't worry. I think we can find a few things for the M.O.H. to do."
"M.O.H.?" I asked.
"Duh. Maid-of-honor."
The maid of honor . . . Tiffany's maid of honor?
Me?
22
Manning
From where I stood, I couldn't see much more in the dark than the white foam of ocean waves and two heads of blonde hair, their figures shadowy in the distance. The girls who'd turned my life upside down. It hadn't been much of a life. No doubt, it was better now. After watching my parents' knock-down, drag-out fights followed by make-up sessions that'd keep them in the bedroom for days, I couldn't have predicted I'd ever actually want to get married. Tiffany and I wouldn't end up like my parents, though. When she baited me, I kept my cool. When she got upset, I'd do my best to help her manage her emotions. She was a catch, too, and I was the only one who'd caught her in any meaningful way. We'd build a good, sturdy life together. I'd find work that fulfilled me and made sure she did the same.
And I wouldn't be saddled with the constant worry that I wasn't enough for her.
I returned my attention to Corbin's brother, who was talking about restoring a T-bird. He took out a pack of cigarettes and held it up to me. "Smoke?"
I took one and stuck it in my mouth while I dug my lighter from my jeans pocket. "You're in college, right?"
"Santa Barbara."
"You live in a house or something? Where do you keep the car?"
"Here, in my parents' garage. I just work on it when I'm home for weekends or holidays. Corbin helped out before he left." He cupped his hand to light his cigarette. "He's not so bad, you know."