Page 9 of Like It's 1999

Kate checks her watch. “Sounds fun, but I have work I need to catch up on.”

“Seriously?” Alice pouts. “It’s Saturday night.”

Kate shrugs. “I work around Will’s schedule so I can hang out with him when he’s free during the day. But you guys should go. You know I fall asleep at movies anyway.”

Alice rolls her eyes. “You are such an old woman.”

Pointing a finger gun at Alice, Kate says, “You’re going to regret that comment on our run tomorrow morning.”

“Do you need a ride home, Kate?” Even though Somerville is in the opposite direction, I don’t want to leave her hanging.

“Nah, it’s just one T stop away from here. You can walk me to the subway, though.”

After dropping Kate at the T station, Alice and I head back to my car, discussing the best route from Kendall Square to Brookline. While I warm up the car, she inspects the interior. “Where’s the enormous box of cassettes I’ve heard so much about?”

“So, you and Kate talk about me?”

“Oh man, she used to complain about you being a total control freak about your car. And your music.”

“Well, when something’s important to you, you should take care of it.” I reach across and lower the passenger-side visor, revealing the sleeve storing my favorite CDs of the moment. “I’m all disc now.”

She runs a finger over the music selection on offer. “You’ve expanded your musical tastes beyond classic rock, as well.”

I shrug. “Gotta stay up with the times.”

“I don’t see any Pixies up here.”

I push the play button. “Already in the carousel.”

Once we’re warmed up and the music is playing, I try not to be distracted by Alice’s car dancing—somehow as hilarious as it is sexy. “So, we have a difficult choice as far as the movie goes.”

“Oh yeah, you never said what was playing.”

“HeathersandSex, Lies, and Videotape.”

She checks her watch. “If we can get there in time, I say we do a double feature and have popcorn for dinner.”

“A girl after my own heart.”

Oops. Didn’t mean to say that out loud.

ALICE

A few days after Kate and Will decide on a location for their local wedding celebration, Steve and I meet up after work to finalize our bridesmaid plans. I suppose I should be focusing on our to-do list, as well as on my promise to open Steve’s mind to the existence of life outside of golf clubs and cigar clubs and other boys-only clubs, but I can’t seem to stop winding him up.

“If we’re going to get through this together, you have to stop calling me Hot Steve,” he growls.

“But that’s your name, dude.”

He drops his head into his hands. “Okay. You can call me Hot Steve if we nix the Chippendales.”

“Oh, now that’s a tough one.” I wonder if this was his plan all along. The guy does wheel and deal for a living. I’m a pretty tough customer, though. “I don’t know. I mean, Kate’s face when a couple of oiled-up, half-naked guys grind away in front of her—that’d be priceless, right?”

The look on Steve’s face is priceless. Almost as fun as Kate’s would be. But then I remember that Kate’s pre-wedding week should not be about torturing her. “She’d hate it, wouldn’t she?”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“All right then,Steve.” Kate’s wrong about this guy needing to be reformed. He’s a better man than I. All I can think about is causing trouble. “That’s it.” There’s one kind of trouble Kate would actually appreciate. I grab his forearm. “We have to do a prank.”

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