Page 6 of Unfriend Me
“Hmm. It would be a shame to ruin Jayden and Lenora’s wedding like that, wouldn’t it?” Bain said to his wife, loud enough we could all hear. Fuck, he used the dad voice.
Amelia inhaled, pulled herself up straight, and spun back around, remaining mute the entire rest of the ceremony. She smiled all damn day long, doing all the appropriate things for a bridesmaid, but I could tell it was fake. The smile didn’t meet her eyes or dull the pinch between her eyebrows. Amelia was bottling it all up and who knew when it would finally blow.
* * *
I had a headache from ripping my gaze away from Amelia all damn day long. She was everywhere I looked and it was literally causing me pain to keep a watchful eye out for her, but also not let her catch me looking. The reception was in full swing, the DJ keeping a good mix of songs going that had the dance floor packed. Another hour and I could excuse myself entirely without offending Jayden and Lenora to head home and rip this suit off. I was happy for my friends finding true love, I really was, but I was done with this wedding.
The end of September usually called for cool evenings, but it had been unseasonably warm this late into the summer this year. I told myself I’d just step outside the tent to get some fresh air and then I’d go back inside and continue to support my friends. The moon had risen, bright in the sky, casting a glow to the grassy lawn that stretched out along the coast behind the church. I’d been coming to this church since I was born. Oddly enough, I didn’t yearn for travel or new adventures. Auburn Hill was a quirky-ass town, but I was content here.
“Who you staring at, asshole?”
My head spun left and I squinted through the darkness. That sounded a lot like Amelia. Alarm threaded through my veins and I took off at a sprint to where I thought I’d heard her voice. If Daire was back causing trouble, I wanted to be there to set him straight on his status in this town. I was almost to the tree line at the far south side of the lawn when I saw her, hands on hips, high heels off and held in her hand by the dainty straps. Her back was to me, which meant I could take her in without her notice. And I would have enjoyed that view if I hadn’t gotten distracted by her adversary.
“What? You just gonna stare at me like you weren’t about to peck my face off a second ago?” Amelia shouted again, listing to the side before righting herself.
I shoved my fist against my mouth and begged myself not to laugh.
Amelia wasn’t fighting with Daire. She wasn’t even fighting with a human.
Amelia was in a stare down with a damn peacock.
The peacock looked suspiciously like the one my buddy Charlie had on his property farther outside of town. It had simply shown up one day, probably sensing that soft-hearted Charlie wouldn’t chase him away. We determined it was a male, due to its extensively colored plumage. Then again, what the hell did we really know about peafowl?
Paul—the name Charlie had given the peacock because alliteration was the basis for all naming conventions—took two steps closer to Amelia, risking his life.
Amelia threw her shoes down in the grass and pointed at the poor bird with a hand that still gripped an entire bottle of champagne she must have pilfered from the open bar.
“Don’t you threaten me, buddy. I am not in the mood to deal with your bullshit. Bird shit?” She tilted her head like she was thinking about her word usage before tearing back into the bird in an even louder voice. “Or anyone’s bird shit ever again. You hear me? Just because you have the word cock in your name doesn’t mean you can order me around.”
She took huge gulps of champagne right from the bottle, draining it, then throwing it to the ground to meet her shoes. She took a menacing step forward, she and Paul now only a foot or two away from each other. Paul just watched her calmly. Dude was calmer than the bomb squad.
Amelia lowered her voice and I had to strain to hear it. “Oh, you want to chicken fight me? Can you even do that? You’re a fucking peacock, not a damn chicken. I call fowl.” She snickered at her own lame joke and then hiccupped.
A huge grin settled on my face and I didn’t even try to wipe it away. Damn, I’d missed this woman. She was fucking crazy and I loved every single crazy part of her. Maybe she’d never love me like I loved her, but I couldn’t live my life without her. I tried that this last year, and especially this last month, and it had sucked. I’d just have to suck it up, hide my feelings, and settle for being her friend. If that’s all Amelia could give, then I’d be happy with it.
Paul apparently loved Amelia too. In a flash, he fanned out his feathers, the whoosh of air the rapid movement created making Amelia’s hair fly in the wind. Amelia let out a yelp to wake the dead and took off running straight at me. I couldn’t help the bark of laughter this time. Sheer terror was on Amelia’s face when she reached me, spun me around, and then climbed up my body like a tree. Her arms banded around my neck and she shouted in my ear.
“Run!”
She dug her bare feet into my thighs like she thought I was a racehorse who needed prodding. It worked, though. I took off running, my laughter hooting into the night as I ran, Amelia bouncing on me, whooping and hollering the whole way. I made it all the way to the bottom of the trail leading down to the beach before she pulled me to a stop.
I stood there looking at the ocean in the dark, the woman I loved on my back with a pounding heart and ripped dress from her flight from a peacock. This. This was why I’d take a friendship over nothing with Amelia. She made me feel alive in ways no one else could.
“You know I’m not a horse, right?” I asked her, the laughter still in my voice.
She blew out a deep breath and peeled her arms off my neck. In the next breath, she slid down my back and nearly fell over the minute her feet hit the ground. I spun around and caught her to me.
“Sit down before you kill yourself.” I helped her down to the sand, figuring her dress was already ruined when she straddled me and ripped the hem up the side. I sat next to her, not giving a shit if I ruined my dress pants. I hated them anyway.
“Did that just fucking happen?” she said out loud.
I snorted and she let out a gasping wheeze. She bent at the waist and nearly had her forehead touching her legs. For a second I thought she might be throwing up, what with the amount of alcohol she had to have in her system right about then. I put a hand on her back and then heard the first sounds of hysterical laughter hit my ears.
Not puking. Laughing.
She straightened quickly and tossed her head back, cackling loudly in between wheezy inhales. Tears of laughter were rolling down her cheeks and she’d never looked more beautiful to me. I watched her, a small smile on my face as I took her in and absorbed this moment with her. After all, if perfect moments stretched between bland existence would be all I got with Amelia, I’d take them and savor them like the treasures they were.
The waves rolled in and crashed on the shore, a background to Amelia’s drunken mirth. Eventually she quieted, her gaze trained on the white foam trailing higher on the sand but still far enough away we were in no danger of getting wet. The bubble of anger that seemed to cling to her like perfume drifted away in the breeze.
