Page 22 of Springtime Love

I should have just kept my mouth shut. Why did I let myself relax around him? We were strangers. I knew nothing of his life and he knew nothing of mine. Yet, I felt like we had been friends for eternity and my walls were completely down around him. I felt truly free.

“Ysenia?” Miguel asks. I look up at him. “You okay?”

“Yes. Why?” I reply.

“Because you’re standing there lifeless,” Jenna says. I snap out of my haze and look around.

We’re inside the club and now standing in front of two large wooden open doors. In front of us, in the banquet hall are a lot of people seated at round tables. White tablecloths, beautiful floral centerpieces, and fancy dishware.

“Everything looks beautiful,” I smile, turning on my manners and facing Jenna.

She looks flawless as usual. Not a hair out of place.

“You sure you’re okay? Did Miguel do something?” Jenna frowns at Miguel.

“Not at all,” I laugh. “He’s been the perfect gentleman.”

“Good. Tell me, if he isn’t and I’ll beat him up for you,” she smiles at me.

“Of course.”

“Here. Sign this.” She hands me a half-dollar-sized wooden heart and a black marker. “It’s for the keepsake box.”

I drop my arm from Miguel’s and place the heart on the table. I quickly write,Best wishes and many years of happiness– Ysenia Copeland.

“Aww. You’re sweet. Thanks, Ysenia,” Jenna gushes.

I hand her the heart and she drops it into the large glass bowl on the table. She hands Miguel a wood heart and I hand him the marker. He quickly writes something, drops the heart in the bowl, and puts the marker on the table.

“What has you in a bad mood?” Jenna huffs.

“Nothing,” Miguel replies coolie. “Where’s our table?”

“Typical Miguel. All business,” Jenna groans. “Follow me.”

Miguel looks at me. He seems like there’s something still heavy on his mind. He opens his mouth but closes it. He looks at Jenna.

“Lead the way,” he gestures to the room.

“Such a jerk.” Jenna rolls her eyes and then links her arm with mine. She leads me into the room. All eyes are on us. I instantly feel uneasy and want to make a run for it.

“They’re just staring because you’re a knockout,” Jenna grins.

“Ha! I wish,” I mutter.

“You are.” She bumps me with her hip playfully and smiles. “Miguel will have to beat guys off with a stick.”

Yeah right.

“Where’s the groom?” I ask. Jenna tenses and I swear she gasps. “You okay, Jenna?”

“Yes. I’m fine,” she says faintly. “Your table is here. Your table isn’t too far from mine.”

She walks us over to a table with two empty seats. A few of the people are old childhood friends or acquaintances. All people who I no longer care for, if I’m being honest.

Of course, this is our table.

“Hey, guys. You remember, Ysenia?” Jenna introduces. “And my brother Miguel.”

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