Page 56 of The Trouble with Runaway Brides

Lance

Why don’t they just string me up by my toes and hang me from the ceiling? It’d be more welcome than the current torture my family is putting me through. Kenzie’s hair is still silky and smooth, and it tickled my nostrils when she leaned back, just like I remember it doing on the day the original picture was taken. She used to turn in under my arm and wrap her arms around my waist, squeezing me tightly before we had to part for our separate classes. All of it came back in a rush when her body was pressed against mine.

And now she’s next to me and I’m not sure the table could be any smaller. I’m trying to keep my thighs closed and not manspread into her space, but it’s a struggle.

My aunt goes up to the podium to get the assembly started and introduce everyone, even though there are nametags in front of us. We each wave after the introduction, and Aunt Holly realizes that Blake should be seated next to Kenzie. He was a last-minute addition, so he’s on the far end. I clear my throat to volunteer to move, but Easton stands and grabs the extra chair from his dad, sitting next to Brinley a few seats down. Thanks a lot, shithead.

“So, I’m going to go through the questions you all submitted beforehand, and after that, we’ll open it up to any additional questions you might have.” My aunt takes out a stack of index cards.

That many people want to know something about us? Shit.

“The first question is for Easton Bailey.” She smiles at her son.

He sits up straighter, putting his arms on the table and taking up more than his share of elbow room.

“‘Were you pressured to go into baseball because your dad gave up his dream of playing after his parents died?’” Aunt Holly takes a sip of her water, and her eyes find my uncle Austin.

“Well.” Easton clears his throat. His questions should be easy. I’m more scared than ever of what will come my way now. “I love baseball. Whether or not it’s in my genes or my dad curated my love for it, I don’t know. But I decided to chase the dream for myself. My dad encouraged me along the way, but he never forced me.”

Aunt Holly smiles because he answered well. “Okay, next one is for Brinley Kelly.” She stacks the index cards and pulls the card with the question. “‘You recently decided to change careers. As a senior, it feels like you have to know for certain what you want to do after you leave high school. What do you suggest for those of us who aren’t sure what we want to do?’” Aunt Holly points at the card. “I like this one.” Then she turns toward Brinley.

Brinley looks at Van, who’s seated beside her. “I thought I knew what I wanted, but it turns out I didn’t. I probably knew the whole time I was working with my mom at the family lumber mill that I wasn’t happy, but admitting that was hard. You don’t want to throw away all the years of work you did for a specific career, but you only get one life, and your happiness should come first. What I would tell someone who still doesn’t know what they want to do with their life is that it’s okay. Don’t rush it. Eventually you’ll find something you love, something that sparks joy inside you or piques your curiosity. And for some people, their career isn’t important. It’s okay if a job is a job no matter your success because what you really want out of life is a family, or to live on the water, or to live off the land. Success in life isn’t just about what you do, it’s how happy you are.”

Kenzie leans over me and whispers, “Great answer.”

“Thanks,” Brinley says, but there’s still a coldness in her tone.

My Mr. Good Guy guilt is at the top of the meter now.

“Okay, who’s next…” Aunt Holly says, rustling through the index cards.

I feel as though I’m in the middle of the Hunger Games when that woman is digging her hands in the fishbowl full of names and everyone’s hearts are in their throats.

“Lance Whitmore!” She acts as though it’s a good thing. “Okay, the students want to know why you go back and forth between Lake Starlight and New York City. You clearly have enough money to live a nice life in New York City.” Aunt Holly raises her eyebrows for me to answer the question as if she’s always been curious too.

“Well, I have people I love here in Lake Starlight, but New York City is where my work is. I’m privileged enough to be able to go between them and have a place in each, but moving forward, you probably won’t find me here as often as I have been.”

“Really?” Aunt Holly frowns. A hand rises in the audience, and I silently beg my aunt not to call on the person. Stick to the cards like she said. “We’ll just take this one question. I assume it’s a follow-up to Lance’s answer?”

A girl stands, her hair in braids on either side of her head. She’s got some number painted on her cheek, but other than that, she looks like a friend I would have hung around here when I was a student. “Hi, that was my question. I’m the senior class president and the editor of the school newspaper.”

I nod. “I did that as well.”

“I know, right? I seem to be following the same path as you. I’m also going to Columbia in the fall.”

“Congratulations. You’ll love it there. I did.”

“I hope so. I went to visit the campus and the city and it’s so different. The noise alone feels like it’s going to be a lot to get used to.”

Kenzie laughs, but her smile is sweet as she looks at me. She knows as well as I do how different both places are.

“They are very different, but you get used to it pretty fast. And don’t worry, most kids who attend Columbia aren’t from New York City, so you’re mostly all in the same boat there.”

“Thanks.” She sits back down, looking relieved.

“From my own experience, it was a drastic change coming from a larger metropolitan area to here… jeez, forever ago, it seems.” Aunt Holly searches out my uncle in the front row, and he winks. “As Brinley mentioned, sometimes it’s not the career but something else that pulls you somewhere.” She seems to compose herself for a beat before moving on. “All right, the next question goes to Kenzie Gavino, soon-to-be Asbury.”

I suck in a deep breath, and Kenzie must hear me because she looks at me before straightening in her chair and sliding the mic in front of her.

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