Save the Date(60)

“Everything okay?”

“You tell me,” he said, handing me the phone. “They’re all from Mike.”

I took it from him, feeling my eyes widen as I read through them.

Mike

Hey man. Where’d you go?

I’m hiding in the back of the lobby trying to avoid my parents

Family drama—what’s new

My mom thinks that this is a great time to like go inot everything

Like in the middle of the rehearsal dinner

And my dad’s mad at me too

He would have yelled at me if you were there too I know

They seem to think me being g here means I want to have a wholething about it

Annnnyyyyywayyyyyyyy

Where did you go? Text me text me





text me

I looked up from the phone and handed it back to Jesse. “It kind of sounds like he’s drunk.”

Jesse nodded. “That’s what I thought too. I recognize a Mike drunk text. Usually there’s more autocorrect mistakes, though.”

“But . . .” I tried to figure out how this could even be possible. I’d seen Danny get him a drink from the bar, but then it looked like Mike had just been slowly sipping it all night. Unless . . . I suddenly realized the much more probable answer was that he’d been getting refills from the waiters, which meant he might be something like four or five drinks in. And I wasn’t sure I wanted Mike, full of liquid courage, to suddenly start telling my parents what he thought about them. “I think we should go find him.”

Jesse nodded and gave me a steady look. “We’ll sort Mike out,” he said, reaching to take my hand, sending shivers throughout my body, “and then . . .”

I had been waiting for him to finish the sentence, but a moment later I realized what he was implying. For just a second, a headline flashed across my mind—Clueless Virgin Very Slow on Uptake.

We headed back into the lobby, and I saw that my brothers, Rodney, and Bill were no longer at the bar—I didn’t see them anywhere. “He said he was in the lobby—” I stopped short when I saw Mike was standing near the restaurant entrance, swaying on his feet like he was actually on a boat that nobody else could see. He was frowning down at his phone and jabbing at it with one finger, which I had a feeling explained the number of typos in the texts he’d sent. “There he is,” I said, lowering my voice slightly as I nodded toward him.

“Oh jeez,” Jesse said, shaking his head. “This is looking like senior prom all over again.”

“What happened at senior prom?”

“Another time,” Jesse said, flashing me a quick smile.

“Right,” I said, focusing on the task at hand. “Of course.” We were halfway across the lobby, walking toward Mike, when he looked up from his phone and squinted at us.

“Jesse!” he said, too loudly, throwing his arms up and sending his phone flying. “Oops! Where—did you guys see—”

“I’ve got it,” I said quietly, bending down to pick up his phone, like if I talked more softly it would somehow balance out Mike talking too loud.

“Did you get my texts?” Mike asked. “Because I like just texted you. Look, I’ll show you the time . . . thingy. . . .” He looked at his empty hands, then patted his suit pockets, then shook his head. “I don’t know—I think I lost my phone?”

“Here,” I said, handing it to him, and Mike brightened.

“My phone,” he said, his volume getting loud enough that I glanced around. He frowned at me. “Why’d you take my phone, Charlie? Why are you always taking my stuff that’s mine away from me?”

“Um,” I said, trying to remember the last time I’d seen him like this. I got the sense that Mike didn’t party as much as our older siblings—neither of us did—but I knew he had his fun.

“Dude,” Jesse said, seeming to give up on trying to get Mike to sit down and just steadying him instead. “How much did you drink?”

“Not much,” Mike insisted, jabbing at his phone again. “Just the same as the same amount as what I drink usually. Same same.”

“Did you eat anything first?” Jesse asked, and Mike shook his head carefully, just once to each side. “Do you think maybe you should have?”

“Ohhhh,” Mike said, trying to snap his fingers but then giving up after a few tries and just pointing at Jesse. “You know, maybe that actually does make me some sense. Didn’t think about that. Didn’t do the math. Didn’t crunch the numbers.”

“I think we should get him out of here,” I said, and Jesse nodded.

“Great idea!” Mike said, again too loudly. “I’ll drive.” He patted his pockets again. “No, I won’t.”

“No,” I said firmly, hoping that Jesse was keeping his keys far away from my brother. “You won’t.”

“I’ll drive him back to my place,” Jesse said to me after a slight pause, not sounding too happy about this idea. “And then . . .” He sighed. “I should probably keep an eye on him tonight.”

I nodded, knowing exactly what this meant—that whatever we’d been starting in the game room was not going to continue tonight, because Mike had gotten himself sloppy drunk.