Kissing the Bride
“Do you, Fiona Hughes, take Marie Wilde to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
Fiona smiles. Her eyes are bright and sparkling even from where I’m standing, her hands clasped romantically in Marie’s.
“I do,” she replies easily, and I can see the shake of Marie’s shoulders as more joyous tears escape her eyes.
Marie looks absolutely stunning; her white dress is modest yet so pretty – long-sleeved with lace detailing. Her wild curls are tamed into a gorgeous studded bun, with tendrils escaping, and she looks more beautiful than I’ve ever seen her. Fiona wears a more understated black dress. Alec told me that she’s never been drawn to the glitz and glamour of weddings, but she’s tearing up just at the sight of Marie. I think everyone else is too.
Gah, this emotion is too much for me to handle.
“And do you, Marie Wilde” – the minister turns to Marie with a smile that crinkles the corner of his eyes – “take Fiona Hughes to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
“I do,” Marie whispers.
I can’t see her face at the moment; I’m standing angled behind her, along with Natasha and Millie.
We make up Marie’s bridal party, alongside Rosa – the maid of honour. All of us are clutching small bunches of orchids, and our dresses are a gorgeous silken grey, each in a unique style. I share a small smile with Natasha as Marie says the words, tears pricking the edges of my eyes no matter how hard I fight to restrain them. Since Fiona came back for good, Marie has been the happiest I’ve seen her in the short months I’ve known her. Fiona is by far the friendliest and funniest woman I think I’ve ever known, and it’s safe to say that Alec was under-exaggerating when he described her as “nice”. It’s clear that the whole family worships Fiona, and from what I can see of her face right now as she gazes into Marie’s with complete and utter love – the feeling is mutual.
How can I stop myself from crying when everything is so perfect?
“Then I now pronounce you wife and wife,” the minister announces, his face breaking out into a smile so large that I’m afraid it will break out of his delicate, thin-skinned face. “You may now both kiss the bride.”
And Fiona does. She uses their intertwined fingers to pull Marie closer until their lips meet. I can see only the back of Marie’s head from where I’m standing in the bridal party, but by the cheering and applause coming from the crowd I can tell that everything is pretty spectacular. I catch eyes with Alec, who is standing beside Fiona and grinning as he claps with everyone else, his eyes trained solely on me.
I blush. You’d have thought I’d have gotten used to him looking at me by now, wouldn’t you? I mean, we have been dating for eight months. Still, none of the effect that Alec used to have on me has faded, and I have to say I’m glad about that. I grin widely at him, ignoring my bunch of flowers as my own hands collide in congratulations for the newlyweds. Marie and Fiona turn to face the crowd, and for the first time in half an hour I see more than the back of Marie’s head. Her face is tear-stained, but her eyes are shining, and she looks absolutely gorgeous. With linked hands, the pair begin to walk back down the aisle, and the audience stand up. The wedding is over. The vows have been said.
“Oh my Lord, that was so beautiful,” cries Natasha beside me.
Her mascara is halfway down her face, and her thin black hair has been twisted and pulled back in an intricate design. I never pictured her as a hopeless romantic, but apparently she is. I guess I should’ve expected it – Joe’s turned into a right romantic recently under her watch, and the pair have been dating for just under a month now. She was the one to man up and tell him first, believe it or not, and he obviously accepted. I really admire her courage, and sometimes I wish that I could’ve been the one to ask Alec out first – it might have saved a lot of my confusion and his anger if I did.
Ah well, I guess everything’s worked out well in the end.
“I know.” I smile to Natasha, wiping the salt trails away from below my eyes. “They both look so beautiful.”
Natasha nods before pulling me into a hug and resting her chin on my shoulder.
“It’s been nice seeing you, fellow bridesmaid.” She grins through the tears. “I’ll miss you. Alec doesn’t bring you to visit often enough! The wedding preparation has been so much fun, though.”
I smile nostalgically at this. The last month has been hectic with rehearsals, bridesmaid training, dress fittings, etc. Rosa, the maid of honour, has been coping astonishingly well, and she’s been the rock that both the brides needed to get through all this. More often than not, Marie has taken the planning headlong – with my mom as a trusty helper. I glance to the side and see her, sitting happily in the second row and talking to Jack. She and Marie have been closer than ever recently, and I wonder if Marie regrets not asking Mom to be part of her bridal team. But that’s such a small detail. The whole wedding has gone according to plan, and it would take a fool not to see how happy Marie and Fiona are with everything.
I glance around the room as people begin to climb out of their seats. It’s time for the wedding after-party, which is being hosted next door in the main room of the country club where the engagement party was held. I’m not going to lie, I’m looking forward to going back – that place was so glamorous. With the way I’m dressed up now, I feel particularly excited. I glance down at my bridesmaid dress. It’s the same grey as Millie and Natasha, but where mine has a gorgeous studded neckline, Natasha’s is strapless and Millie’s has spaghetti straps. Millie turned five recently and she’s the cutest little five-year-old in the world. Her hair is longer now, curly and darker like Marie’s – and it’s twisted into a fancy updo which closely resembles mine.
“You look very grown up,” I tell her, squeezing her hand. She looks up at me with a grateful toothy smile. “Are you happy that your mommy and Fiona are married now?”
She nods excitedly for a second, but then her expression turns crestfallen.
“They won’t let me go on holiday with them. I want to go to Paris!” She pouts, her eyebrows furrowing cutely.
On her fifth birthday, I couldn’t resist but buy her a new tea set. It’s the biggest set the store had, and it’s pink – her favourite colour. I bought it to commemorate the time when I first met her, when we played with the tea set, which is now chipped and old. I thought she deserved a new one, and I was right – she adores it.
“Aww.” I frown. “Yeah, I want to go to Paris too, but you know what? You get to spend the next two weeks with Auntie Rosa, Natasha, me and Alec. That’s a pretty good holiday, isn’t it?” I kneel down and offer her a smile, poking her gently in the ribs to make her giggle.
She nods shyly.
I dread the day when this little angel grows up, I honestly do.
I stand back up and release Millie’s hand, only to have arms wrap themselves round my waist from behind and lips pressed to my collarbone. Alec. I spin round in his arms with a smile on my face, staring up at the gorgeous boy in front of me. His lips are cracked into a cheeky smirk, his eyes brighter than usual and staring down at my face. His role at his mother’s wedding? Well, he gave her away; he walked down the aisle with the bride. Unlike me as I walked, he was resolved and calm and did all the right things. I looked like a bit of a mess when I did it – it was a tremendous struggle not to trip over my dress in the heels, despite the amount I’ve practised in the past month. But in the end I didn’t fall over, which I consider an achievement.
“Alec Hughes.” The boy in front of me wrinkles his nose as he says his new name. “It doesn’t have quite the same ring to it as Alec Wilde does it?”
His fingers stroke the small of my back tauntingly, and he pulls me closer to peck me on the forehead.
“Well,” I point out, smiling, “your mom did say you could keep your surname if you want to. Just because she’s becoming a Hughes-Wilde doesn’t mean you have to, too.”
“Ah,” he sighs. “But you’re missing the point. I refuse to have a wife one day called ‘Riley Wilde’. The sounds are too monotonous. ‘Riley Hughes-Wilde’ sounds better, even if it isn’t my original surname. I’ll get used to it.”
He shrugs, but by this point my jaw is on the floor. Did he seriously just joke about getting married to me? My heart thunders in my ribs, and I can feel a blush spread across my cheeks – thick and crimson. He can’t be serious. Is he trying to make me die of heart failure?
“W-what?” I choke out, eyes wide as I stare at him. Recently he’s begun to grow a little stubble on his chin, and I’d be lying if I said that it wasn’t the sexiest thing for miles around. I guess it’s his new look for senior year, and he’s turning eighteen soon.
Alec cocks an eyebrow at my reaction, smiling smugly. “Riley, don’t pretend you don’t want to be my wife one day. It’ll probably happen whether you like it or not.” His confidence is amusing, and I let a chuckle escape my lips as he holds his chin proudly high.
“You stole my bra, and now you want to steal my last name away? Don’t you think you’re being a little greedy, Alec Wilde?” I frown. “You never did tell me where you stashed away my best Mickey Mouse bra.”
“If I tell you, you’ve got to promise not to tell anyone.” He gazes steadily into my eyes, and his finger rises up to press down on my bottom lip. “This is my darkest secret.”
I watch wide-eyed as he glances either way to check who’s watching us. He’s actually going to tell me. I feel a buzz of excitement deep in my gut, and I lean closer for him to whisper to me. His breath tickles my earlobe, and he brushes away the wisps of hair tucked behind my ear, which causes me to shiver. I can’t be sure whether he’s teasing me or not. I never really am when it comes to him.
“Don’t tell a soul,” he whispers, “but I hid your bra . . . in my boxers.”
I jolt backwards.
“What!” My eyes ping open even wider, and I nervously glance down at his lower half.
Please tell me he’s joking.
Alec takes one look at my horrified face and bursts into laughter – making it very evident that he was stringing me along. It reminds me of when I was doing a similar thing the day after I drew on his face. Speaking of which, I still haven’t uploaded that photo . . . Maybe I could do it on his birthday. That would be a cool little surprise, wouldn’t it? At the moment, my profile photo is a selfie of the two of us. I didn’t upload it. Heck, I hate that photo, because it reminds me of how particularly ordinary I look next to Alec. However, Alec stole my phone a couple of months back. He uploaded that photo, making me look like the world’s clingiest girlfriend, and then proceeded to upload a picture of Mickey Mouse as his profile picture.
Needless to say, it didn’t get as many likes as his last shirtless picture, but he found it pretty hilarious. Grasshole.
“You actually believed me.” Alec sobers up from his chuckles, letting out an almost pained gasp for oxygen. “You actually believed me. What kind of person do you take me for, Greene? I’m not that disgusting.” He wrinkles his nose, and in synchronisation, his fingers grab my bra straps and ping them. I’m pretty sure it’s not just me; don’t all girls find that incredibly irritating. I scowl up at him.
“Where did you hide it Alec? If you don’t tell me, I might just have to upload the boxer story . . .”
Alec’s laughter disappears instantly. He edges towards me, a malicious smirk tugging up at those beautiful sculpted lips of his.
“Are you threatening me, Riley Jessica Greene?”
“Possibly.”
“What are you going to do? Try and blind me with body spray again?”
Ah, now that’s a good story. I nod happily, and his gaze narrows.
“I hid the bra –”
“Hey, guys!” Joe interrupts, and I look to the left to see his arm is casually slung round Natasha’s shoulders and she’s grinning like a cat who got the cream.
Most of the people have exited the room now, leaving us and a few others behind. We should probably start heading next door for the party, but dammit! I was so close to knowing the location of the place I searched for so hard. Where did he hide my bra? He’s never even joked about telling me before, so this is exciting.
“We should probably get moving.” Natasha smiles. “C’mon. Let’s head off. Chase and Dylan are already over there.”
Since Dylan and Violet started dating, he has returned to his old self. He’s charming, sensitive and logical. Recently, I’ve encouraged him to ditch some of the clubs he doesn’t want to attend anymore and catch up on his sleep for once. He used to put way too much pressure on himself for the sake of his reputation, and as Alec stated that one time – reputations really don’t matter. I can be the spokesperson for that lesson.
We’re on the brink of senior year now and thinking about college. Everybody plans to go to different colleges, and it breaks my heart to think that I may be separating from all of my friends in just a year’s time. However, it means that I’m a million times more excited to spend time with them during senior year. The way I look at it, this is a chance for a fresh start after Kaitlin, Toby, Tiana and all of last year’s events, and I plan to make the absolute most of it before college starts. I know I’ll have finals, and I know I have college applications to worry about, but I have Alec by my side for both. This year better be kick-ass.
Okay, I’m going to stop now before I puke at the cheesiness.
“Riley.” My thoughts are interrupted as Alec tugs at my arm, willing me towards the door where Joe and Natasha are waiting for us. “C’mon, daydreamer, we need to go to the party.”
“Right.” I nod. “The party. Let’s go.”
“Riley!” Fiona greets me, a grin spreading across her face. Her hand is locked into both of Marie’s, her eyebrow piercing glinting. “You didn’t trip down the aisle!”
“Tell me about it,” I agree with a laugh. “It’s a freaking miracle!”
Since Fiona arrived back in Lindale and started living with Alec’s family again, everything has kind of changed for the better. She got a job as a firefighter, as Alec told me, and by the sounds of it she’s the happiest woman in the world. I’m not sure whether she experienced any emotional trauma from her time as a soldier, and Alec doesn’t know either, but she seems happy enough from day to day so we both just leave it be. When Fiona and I first met, we started really well, and I’m happy to say that I’m a close friend of hers and Marie’s now. That means that Fiona is well aware of how unbalanced and clumsy I am. It’s been a kind of inside joke between us that I was going to trip down the aisle.
“Hey, Fiona,” Alec greets from beside me, squeezing my hand. “Did I ever tell you about the time that Riley tripped over a –”
“Let’s go,” I hiss to Alec, interrupting him, before turning to Fiona with a courteous smile.
“Congratulations. You and Marie are made for each other.”
I don’t even give her a chance to do anything other than smile before I pull Alec away to our designated seats. The country club is decorated slightly differently to when I last saw it. The tables and chairs in front of the bar have been grouped together to form a collective horseshoe shape facing the stairs. The dance floor has been cleared, and everything is decorated with white ribbons and fairy lights. In the dim lighting, it looks even more beautiful than when I last came here.
The tables are dressed with fresh white tablecloths, and orchids – matching the bouquets that the bridal team carried. My place is sandwiched between Natasha and Alec, who has taken his position next to Fiona. A little further along, I can see my mom and Jack climbing into their own seats, and even further still are Dylan, Chase and Joe. They look especially awkward in their tuxes, sipping from champagne glasses. On every plate is a fortune cookie. I think that’s an amazing idea for a wedding favour – it’s so different to the usual ones.
I turn to Alec, gesturing down at the fortune cookie. “Are you breaking yours now?”
Alec frowns and picks his up to shake it. As if, somehow, that will give him the answer. What an idiot. “Yeah, why not?”
I pick mine up and break it, revealing a thin strip of white paper.
How can you have a beautiful ending without making beautiful mistakes?
Alec frowns at the words, before turning to look at me. “This is a beautiful beginning, not an ending.”
Unable to think of anything to say, I lean forward and kiss him lightly on the lips.
Alec smiles and breaks open his own fortune.
Your fortune is as sweet as a cookie.
“Huh,” I say. “That’s a cute one.”
“Do you want to know where I hid your bra?”
I come to attention immediately, head snapping round to look at Alec. I nod eagerly.
“I hid it in the bottom of your wardrobe.”
“What?” I ask. “My wardrobe!”
“It’s the one place you didn’t think to look – in your own bedroom.” Alec smirks.
“But what about when you first stole it? You ran out of my bedroom and into yours,” I frown, remembering. “It must have been in your bedroom then. When did you put it back into mine?”
“After I’d stolen it,” Alec tells me, “I hid it under my mattress, but I knew you’d try to find it at some point or other, so I waited for you to leave your bedroom the day after. You, your mom and your brother were coming over to meet us. Then I slipped in and chucked it at the back of your wardrobe, where you wouldn’t think to look. All I had to do then was to get back into my own house and act surprised to see you.” He shrugs. “It’s actually quite worrying how you didn’t find it in the space of four months.”
Hey, in my defence, my wardrobe is a mess. The flooring of it is covered with shoes and boxes of games from my childhood – it’s no wonder I haven’t seen my Mickey Mouse bra in there.
“I can’t believe this!” I look up at him, and he smirks infuriatingly back down at me, taking a sip from a glass of champagne. My fists clench in frustration.
That damned bra was in my wardrobe the entire time and I didn’t know about it? How stupid is he making me look?
Alec wriggles his eyebrows playfully.
The food is going to be served soon. Marie and Fiona are taking their designated seats at the heads of the table.
“I don’t believe it!” I slap him on the shoulder “You – you son of a barnacle!”
“You love me really.” Alec leans slightly closer. “More than Minnie loves Mickey.”
He’s got me there.
A bad boy stole my bra, and I couldn’t be more thankful.
Alec freaking Wilde, you manipulative grasshole.