Page 6 of Not Your Basic Love Story

Hair curled, dress donned, and makeup applied, I checked the itinerary and headed out. The resort was massive. It took me three wrong turns and asking for directions before I found the right place. A hoard of well-dressed, tipsy people were already gathered in the huge reception area, a drink in one hand and a plate of appetizers in the other. I weaved my way around the crowd and, with a sigh of relief, finally spotted Miranda.

Everything about her seemed effortless, from the way she walked to her wide, confident smile. Her bright lipstick complemented her ivory skin tone and popped against her white cocktail dress. A silver necklace matched the bangles along her wrists but did not distract from the giant diamond on her finger. Princess cut. So fitting. Though she looked like a flawless, elegant woman now, every time I looked at her, I still saw the dorky teenager I’d first met so many years ago, all braces and pimples and Eragon fanfiction. I nearly cried, so overwhelmed with love and relief that I was finally here, finally with my best friend in the whole wide world, whom I so desperately needed.

“Becky!” She squealed, spotting me in the distance. She offered a polite excuse to the people she was chatting with and walked over to me. We embraced in a tight hug. She smelled like Chanel and chardonnay. When she released me, she smooched me right on the lips, not unusual for her, and then held me at arm’s length, admiring my sunflower-print cocktail dress.

“You look stunning, Becky!” she gushed.

“Aww! So do you, babe!”

“How was your flight?”

“Awful. You wouldn’t believe—”

I was cut off when an old couple entered the room and stole Miranda’s attention.

“Oh, youhaveto meet Derek’s parents!” She waved to get their attention. “Mum! Dad! This is my best friend, Becky!” She grabbed my hand and dragged me over to them, then around the room, introducing me to Mr. and Mrs. So-and-So, related to these people over here, and then some other people who were important because of reasons, on and on and on. I was able to snatch a glass of wine from a tray and a mouthful of crab cake, which was delicious, in between greeting these people of whom I made no effort to remember their names.

Finally, we found the other bridesmaids sitting on a couch near one of the balconies. The salty ocean breeze was a welcome change from the stuffy, crowded room.

“Becky, you remember Nicole. This is Hannah, from work. My cousin, Charlotte. And, obviously—” Miranda was interrupted when a younger, shorter, and much more curvaceous version of herself jumped up and gave me a giant hug, nearly knocking the wine out of my glass.

“Becky!” her sister Angelina cried, squeezing me far too tight.

“Hey, Angel!” I said. “Wow, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you! You must have graduated by now, right?”

“Yeah, now I’m just figuring out what I want to do next.”

“Any plans so far?”

Miranda touched my shoulder. “I have to go, Derek’s calling me over.”

I turned to see her fiancé standing a short distance away. I waved. He waved back. He was generally considered handsome. While we were polite with one another, we never had much to talk about. I wasn’t offended he didn’t come over to talk; I didn’t feel like trying to talk to him, either.

Watching the two of them walk away triggered a yearning from deep within my core. Miranda and Derek’s love story was like a Nicholas Sparks movie. I mean, before it got all depressing. Three winters ago, she spent the winter working as an RN at the ski resort in Whistler and dealt with a lot of injuries. One such injured person had been Derek. I guess you could say they fell in love right away and went out on a date as soon as it wasn’t inappropriate given the obvious problems of dating your patient. Derek’s family came from wealth, and he managed his family’s charity which helped with sanitation in third world countries.

I envied the way they met. It all sounded so perfect. I’ll never forget the excitement in her voice over the phone that day when she relayed every moment. I’ve been on the sidelines, witnessing every step since then leading up to this point.

My turn would come. Eventually.

I hoped.

I realized with a start that Angelina had been talking this whole time. I blinked back to the present as she told me about her plans for after High School since her year off was coming to a close. She was considering becoming a dental hygienist. Nice.

I sat down on the couch and made polite small talk. I met her cousin, Charlotte, when we were teenagers. She worked as an accountant and had three young kids, a hero in her own right. Her husband hovered close by, obviously glad to be rid of the kids for the weekend and have his wife to himself. Hannah worked with Miranda at the hospital, both of them RNs. Her husband was at home with their toddler. This was her weekend away, and by the looks of the empty glasses next to her she was going to take full advantage. They both seemed nice; people I could get along with easily.

Then there was Nicole. Now Nicole, I didn’t like. I didn’t like her from the moment she became roommates with Miranda all those years ago in college. Everything about her was fake. Not only her fake eyelashes and fake nails and giant, fake boobs. I mean, whatever. You do you, girl. It was herpresence. She’d always been over-the-top nice to me, like one of those girls in high school who would pretend to be your friend to get dirt on you and then laugh at you behind your back. Not only that, but she was thecollegebestie, and I was merely thehigh schoolbestie. They had become friends as adults, whereas Miranda and I had become friends as teenagers. It could be argued either way which relationship was more important. I nodded along politely as she went on and on about her Instagram-worthy life and her fancy marketing job and her perfect boyfriend, who was around here somewhere.

As conversation flowed around me, all I could think about was how I was the only single girl in the group. I mean, besides Angelina. She was a kid. She had plenty of time.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Charlotte announced she had to go to the bathroom. Naturally, all of us stood up and made our way towards the lavatories. I didn’t have to pee, so instead, I fixed my lipstick and smoothed my frizzing hair.

Nicole came up beside me to wash her hands. I offered a polite smile through the mirror.

“So,” she said as she lathered. “Your boyfriend couldn’t make it?”

I gritted my teeth. Of course, she’d bring him up. No one had talked about him yet. Miranda had probably warned them ahead of time to not mention it, having filled them in on the gossip already, but Nicole couldn’t resist.

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