Anything but Ordinary(15)

Gabby continued quietly. “The reason why I asked you what was next for you is because we want to share something that’s next for us.”

Gabby kept looking at Greg. Why was she looking at Greg so much? Greg looked back at Gabby, and then at the floor. He looked sad. Tense. Nervous.

“What?” Bryce asked. What did she mean, us?

“Do you remember how you thought Redding Greenberg had cooties when you were in third grade?”

Bryce laughed. “Yeah, of course.”

“And then, one day, you woke up and you felt so differently. You wrote his name in little hearts, and chased him on the playground.” Bryce felt herself turning red, but Gabby pressed on. “You did. You know you did.”

“I did,” Bryce admitted, smiling. “And?” she said, sipping water.

“Try to imagine that happening…but, like, now.”

Greg finally looked up. “Really, Gab? That’s how you’re going to do this?”

Bryce looked back and forth between them, trying and failing to meet their eyes. Her mind was blank, but her muscles began to tighten with fear.

Gabby continued, her voice trembling. “Like all of a sudden, you wake up, and things are different. You love someone who’s been there all along. And it’s so random, but that’s just the way you feel.” Gabby looked vulnerable now, like she was about to shatter.

“Greg and I,” Gabby went on, her voice getting smaller. “I…we’ve been together, Bryce. We’re actually, um. We’re engaged,” she said, and then she said some more, but Bryce didn’t hear the rest. After the word engaged, the dinner rush at Los Pollitos filled her ears. The hum of the lights, the clanking of silverware, the conversation next to them.

The noise rose to a deafening roar, but no one else seemed to hear it. Hot pain crept from her neck, pricking her forehead, her eyes.

“I just need to—” Bryce began, snapping her eyes shut to the hurt that was beginning to shoot from her spine. She couldn’t finish. She fell backward, or forward, she couldn’t tell, and opened her eyes to a strange sight.

The barn.

Nighttime had fallen, making the walls and ceiling almost disappear. But this was a special place. Bryce knew exactly where the beams stood, where the stalls were, where the floor creaked. She didn’t need to see. And suddenly, a light came on, forming a small circle near the hayloft.

Bryce looked up. A halo of blond hair, the angles of a muscled shoulder. Greg.

Greg set the electric lantern on the floor of the barn, the light illuminating his face in sharp shadows. His lips pressed together, shaking. He looked like he had hurt himself. He was crying. Then he said her name.

Bryce took a step toward him, only to trip on nothing through nothingness, landing back on a chair, blinking rapidly, out of breath.

Gabby was looking at her with the same wincing expression. Bryce clutched the table, suddenly afraid it was going to tip from under her.

“Engaged to be married?” Bryce finally asked. She tried to swallow. There was a hot rock wedged in her throat.

The waitress brought their margaritas, and Gabby took a small, tentative sip. Greg gulped his down. Bryce watched the lime-green liquid of the drink get lower and lower until it was gone.

“Greg asked me when we were in Italy. I know that’s not—I can’t even imagine…I wish there was some other…I know this must be weird,” Gabby finally finished. She absently spun her ring around her finger again, and for the first time, Bryce really looked at it. It was a gold ring with a small yellow diamond, and it sat on the ring finger of her left hand. An engagement ring. Of course it was an engagement ring. Bryce hadn’t given it a second thought. People wore class rings, rings given to them from their grandparents. Nobody got married. Not them.

Greg’s hand rested beside his glass. Gabby took it. Bryce felt like something was snaking out of her gut. Her intestines maybe.

“Just say whatever you feel,” Gabby said.

“I don’t—have anything,” Bryce croaked. The hot rock was making it hard to speak.

Greg let go of Gabby’s hand. Bryce felt no relief.

“In a way, it’s a blessing,” Gabby said. “The timing—I knew we were right to come back to Nashville for the wedding. It would mean so much to us if you would be there.”

“Be there?” Bryce choked out.

Gabby sputtered, shaking her head. “Well, if you felt like it was something you could do. I mean, I have no idea. All I can say is…” She took a shuddery breath. “We didn’t know, Bryce. We didn’t know,” she repeated. “I’m just so glad you came back to us.”

Bryce would not look at Greg. She felt him sitting there, now ripping apart his napkin. She took a sip of margarita, and her mouth twisted at its salty-sweet bitterness.

Gabby’s face gradually broke into a small smile. “I just…Growing up, I always pictured you next to me at my wedding. I couldn’t imagine who the groom would be. It didn’t matter. I just knew you’d be my maid of honor.” She leaned forward anxiously under the hanging lamp. She was wearing makeup. Mascara that brought her lashes to a long, vicious swoop. Blush the color of sunset, at the tip of her cheekbones. “Will you? Be my maid of honor?”

Bryce stared at her. But then Gabby looked up, past Bryce. Bryce felt a warm hand on her shoulder and turned around.