These Are the Moments (6 page)

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Authors: Jenny Bravo

BOOK: These Are the Moments
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Chapter 14

Then

She woke up from her nap to his face hovering over hers.

“Wake up,” he whispered. “I’m kidnapping you.”

It was two weeks before Christmas.

They’d been playing pranks on each other for weeks. She’d stuffed his locker with candy canes before school, and he’d retaliated by gift wrapping her car. Just a couple of days ago, she and Reese showed up to his house dressed like elves, stealing him to take a tour of the neighborhood lights.

This was his revenge.

“What?” she asked, groggy with sleep.

“Get dressed,” he said, pulling the covers off of her and fleeing the room.

She hurried herself into a pair of jeans and a blue sweater, making herself presentable before running downstairs.

Simon stood with a blindfold in his hands. “Come here.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You have to,” he said.

He lingered behind her, and the cloth fell over her eyes. She felt his fingers brush against her hair as he gently tied the cloth around her head. Her stomach backflipped.

In moments like these, she had to actively remind herself about Erica. She had to tell herself that they were only friends, that he didn’t see her that way, no matter how it appeared. He was not hers.

“Too tight?” he asked. His fingers skimmed the tip of her ear.

Wendy swallowed. “No, I’m good.”

When he led her to the car, she realized they weren’t alone.

“Wendy!” Reese called.

“Reese! He wised up.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Simon said, starting the car.

She was in the passenger seat, she was pretty sure. And she had no clue where they were going.

“Y’all have no idea. Just wait. You’re in for a good night.”

Owen.

“Oh,
you’re
here,” Wendy faked disappointment.

She felt a slight jab to her arm. “Watch yourself. Don’t forget who’s in charge around here.”

“Still us,” Reese said.

“We’ll see,” Simon answered.

It took a while to reach where they were going. The boys let them guess, but they didn’t come close.

Wendy: “Is it a trip to the movies?”

Reese: “Are you just driving around in circles before you drop us back off? Surprise!”

Finally, the car stopped, and the boys guided them outside.

“Can we open our eyes now?” Reese whined.

“Hmm…” Owen debated.

“Fine,” Reese said. “I’ll tear it off myself.”

Wendy fidgeted with the knot at the back of her head, until she felt Simon’s hand again, warm against the cold air. “Here.”

Her blindfold fell into her hands.

“I
knew
it,” Reese said.

“You did not,” Owen answered.

Wendy hadn’t visited Christmas Under the Stars in years. At one time, it had been a staple tradition in their family, where they’d walk the lush gardens of the park, beneath all the twinkling Christmas lights. There were carolers and hot chocolate stations and storytellers for the children. There was a train and a tent for dancing. Off to the side, there was a makeshift amusement park, with whirring rides and an endlessly turning ferris wheel.

And then, right on cue, Simon’s voice was in her ear, “There are roller coasters here.”

With hot chocolate cupped between their gloves, the foursome started with the gardens. They walked in pairs, Owen and Reese spearheading the group, attempting to trip each other.

“Well, you got me,” Wendy said to Simon. She was blushing, but it was cold, so she had an excuse.

“I told you I would. You thought you were so clever with your kidnapping. Admit it. I outdid you.”

“I refuse.”

He laughed and lifted the cup to his face. He looked good in his peacoat. It framed his face so that his smile seemed even bigger, his eyes even brighter. “So, good surprise?”

“Good surprise.”

She didn’t want to mention Erica. Not with the brilliant white lights. Not with the carolers. Not with all of the magic of all of the motive that he planned this for
her
. Reese and Owen were chaperones. Bonuses. When you boiled this down to its core, Simon had planned this for her alone, and she didn’t know what to make of that.

The walkway filtered out near the entrance, and they faced the amusement park ahead of them.

“Come on,” Owen said, grabbing Reese by the wrist.

“You think those two…” Simon started.

“Not even a little bit,” Wendy responded, knee-jerk, just as Reese drove her shoulder into Owen’s back.

“Over here,” Simon directed.

He stopped in front of the roller coaster. Except, it wasn’t a roller coaster, exactly. It was just one giant loop, that took riders forward and then backward, pausing mid-air to leave a dozen people hanging in the balance.

The Ring of Fire.

“Not a chance,” Wendy said, anticipating his question.

“I told you I would take you on a roller coaster. Don’t make me go back on my word,” Simon demanded. His eyes met hers, dark blue, blending into the sky.

“But—”

He squared himself off to her. “Wendy Lake, I will not let you back out of this. You are not a quitter.”

She shuffled her feet. If only he wasn’t
looking
at her like that.

“I’ll be right there the whole time,” he incentivized.

She shook her hands at her sides. God. Was she really going to do this?


Come on!

he said, taking her hand and pulling her into the line.

Sitting in the bucket, letting the man check the security of the restraint, Wendy pumped her knees up and down, thinking:
If I die in a theme park because of a boy, then I probably deserve it.

“You okay?” Simon asked her.

Beside her, Reese raised her hands. “Let’s go!”

Owen followed suit.

“Yeah,” Wendy said, gripping the lap bar. “I mean, I’ll probably plunge to my death, but yeah. I’m okay.”

Simon laughed. “You’re really freaked out right now, aren’t you?”

“Terrified,” she said through gritted teeth.

As the ride started to chug forward, Wendy let out a scream. Her knuckles turned white against the rail.

“Give me your hand,” Simon said, holding out his hand.

She looked at him, and he looked at her the way you look your favorite thing in the world, like he absolutely, decidedly could not get enough of her.

She latched her palm into his. He said, “Squeeze as hard as you need to.”

And then, they were flying. Forward. Backward. Hanging upside-down. With the world flipped over, she could see Simon for the way he really was: happy, lost and totally taken with her.


Are you having fun?
” he yelled at her, as they hung upside down, suspended in air.


The best time,

she yelled back.

And for a split second, his eyes softened, and she thought he might kiss her. Then, they were launched forward. When the ride was over, she stumbled out onto the grass, exhilarated.

“See? Not so bad,” Simon said. He hadn’t let go of her hand yet.

“You were right,” she said, panting. “That was amazing.”

“Let’s go again,” he said.

Her hand still safe in his, she found herself saying the only word that made sense.

“Yes.”

Chapter 15

Now

Pick up cake.

Pick out party dress.

Don’t freak out.

Clean house.

Do. Not. Freak. Out.

Wendy wanted everything to be perfect. Throwing an engagement party with Reese had been . . . interesting, for sure. The conversations around this first major wedding event had gone something like this:

Reese: “We should get swans.”

Wendy: “That’s a good sentiment, but I don’t think—”

Reese: “What? You hate it? That’s what you’re saying. Isn’t it?”

Wendy: “Let’s think party. Not 18
th
century ball.”

Reese: “I’m guessing that’s a no to the cooked goose, then?”

Reese wasn’t a wedding person. She was just an extremist. It was actually sweet, if Wendy thought about it. It just was a little difficult to rein in.

In the end, there weren’t any swans or carriages or cooked geese. There were strands upon strands of white twinkle lights. There was a bar and hired bartenders. There were white and gold balloons that lined the back fence. Everything
l
ooked purposeful and beautiful, down to the tiny monogramming on the printed napkins.

At four, Wendy went home to fix herself up, with only an hour to spare.

For the first time all day, she took a second to breathe. As she stripped down, she studied herself in the mirror. There was nothing different about her. No real signs of aging, no real evidence of wisdom. Physically, twenty-four-year-old Wendy looked almost exactly the same as fourteen-year-old Wendy. Same green eyes. Same curly brown hair. Same hourglass shape.

Wendy decided on a bright pink dress that tied at the waist.

Reese called. “On your way?”

“Almost. Just as soon as I amputate my heart.”

Pause. “Freaking out?”

“Trying not to.”

“If it makes you feel better, I just downed three glasses of champagne.”

It didn’t.

Lately, her feelings felt stacked on a scale, unbalanced, weighing heavy to the left one day and unanimously to the right the next. She couldn’t trust them.

“Remember that time you thought you were pregnant but really it was just badly prepared sushi?” Wendy asked.

Reese groaned. “Yes.”

“That. That is how I feel.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Exactly.”

The sun hovered over the horizon as the world faded to lilac. Reese’s parents’ house looked even better in the evening—a white tent erected in the back, pictures of the happy couple throughout the house and a
remember when
scrapbook Wendy had made from old college pictures. The house reminded her of homecomings and prom pictures around the pool.

Vivian was crying before she walked through the door. She wore a yellow and gray print dress, her hair styled into an old Hollywood look, and Owen wore a gray suit to match. Wendy could almost read her mind: thinking about her friends, thinking about Owen, thinking about memories and love and happily ever after.

She hugged Reese and Wendy, and whispered, “You guys are too good.”

“We know,” Wendy said, eyes brimming faint with tears.

Once the evening started, it was hard to stop.

Toasts in the kitchen.

Mingling with relatives.

Trips after trips to the bar.

“Have you seen him?” Reese asked her, an hour into the party.

Wendy shook her head. “Maybe he’s a no-show.”

The words went down with a kick. She didn’t know how to feel about that. Angry, maybe, that he wouldn’t come to his best friend’s engagement party. Definitely not surprised. Disappointed? No. She wasn’t. No.

“You guys,” Vivian said, draping her arms over them, “are the best. This makes it official. I’m getting
married
.”

“I think the engagement made that official,” Reese said.

Vivian clinked her glass against Wendy’s, a bit too hard. “Are you having fun? I want you to have fun.”

“Viv, I’m having the best time. And you’re drunk at your engagement party,” Wendy said, laughing.

“You think I’m drunk? You should see Owen.”

Across the pool, he tried to rope Vivian’s grandmother into a line dance.

“Match made in wasted heaven,” Reese said.

“Wendy? Do you hate me?” Vivian asked.

Wendy took her hand and squeezed it. “Hate you? Why would I ever hate you?”

She collapsed into Wendy. “You never think about . . . never mind.”

Reese gave Wendy a
get out while you can
look, but Wendy didn’t, which was a mistake because Vivian said, “I mean, this could’ve been you.”

There it was. Out loud. Soaked up into the atmosphere.

Reese recovered, “Ok, drinky pants, let’s go get you some water.”

Reese nudged Vivian toward the bar and Wendy just stood there for a second.

This could have been you
.

When Reese reappeared, her hair splintering out, she carried four drinks at once.

“Your friend is a crazy lush who just tried to jump in the pool,” she said.

“Kicking off the party with a splash, huh?”

“Very funny,” she said, taking a swig of her vodka water, handing Wendy two drinks, “These are for you. I think you could use them.”

An hour later, Reese and Wendy sipped their drinks from the lawn chairs, barefoot, singing along to “Sweet Caroline.” Wendy was drunk, and she was perfectly okay with that.

“No-show,” she slurred. “Bad friend. I mean, I mean, shouldn’t he be here or something?”

“Do you
want
him to be here? You do. I know you do.”

Wendy shoved her hand in Reese’s face. “Shh. I just . . . just wanna get it over with.”

“Simon, Simon, Simon.”

Wendy closed her eyes, feeling her head swirl into an alcohol fog. It was nice here. Stars on top of her. Breeze. Songs about love. Talking, talking, talking.

When she opened her eyes, there were just lights. No stars.

“Fucking hell,” Reese whispered.

Wendy lifted her head. Tried to, at least. On the patio, above the stairs, there he was. Simon Guidry stood above the crowd, scanning the faces, wearing blue. Always in blue.

Wendy sat up all the way.

And they looked at each other, far away but closer than before.

Don’t throw up
,
she told herself
.

She didn’t.

Their eyes met so briefly that when Simon looked away, she couldn’t be sure if it had actually happened at all.

Simon was here. Simon was back.

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