It's Really Happening

It was seven-thirty in the morning, and I was at the goddamn airport. Not that I don’t love airports, but I’m not a morning person. After two cups of tea and a medium Starbucks I had managed to look unzombified enough to pick Abby up from SFO.

Because I love her, I made a sign. Because I’m a smartass, that sign said “Mrs. Joshua Randall.” Abby would kill me if she didn’t love me so much.

However since I always made it a point to be early for things, I had time enough to stand around—and sit around and, until the airport police asked me if I needed medical assistance, lie around—the receiving terminal and watch people. In two arrivals there were one hundred forty-seven people who didn't have anyone waiting for or walking with them. I spied no less than five mini-make-out-sessions between couples, and at least a dozen and a half children happy to see Mommy or Daddy again.

I made my way to the front of the little crowd when Abby's flight was called and held my little sign, grinning to myself, as people began to pour out. Some people gave me strange looks for my sign, which, when I looked at it, was upside down to them, but I didn't care.

Abby took one look at me, holding that sign, and burst out laughing. "Why am I not surprised?" she said, hugging me tightly.

I shrugged a shoulder, still beaming, and cut a path through the jungle of people. "Because it's something you would do," I replied. "And in light of that, I'm never flying anywhere that you're picking me up." She pouted her lower lip, making me chuckle. "I missed you too, love."

We lugged her suitcase into my brother’s car—I had to borrow it because I walk or take the bus everywhere—and drove to my apartment, singing, talking, and laughing the whole way. I dragged her luggage up the stairs since our elevator was always broken and swept a bow in front of my door. “My humble abode,” I announced, unlocking the door.

“You’re a dork,” Abby snickered. I shrugged and dropped her bag, along with my keys into the bowl by the door. While I tugged off my jacket, she walked around the living, looking at everything. “Why is your place so nice? It’s not fair.”

“Blame my roommates.” I looked up at the sound of my name from down the hall. “Speak of the devil. Hey, Giselle, c’mere!” My roommate Giselle was the quintessential prima ballerina: average height, petite, pixyish features, classically pretty. She’d just come back from a year in France and still hadn’t shaken the accent or tendency to lapse into her native tongue of French. “Abby, this is my roommate Giselle, Giselle, mon ami Abby.”

“Bonjour!” she chirped happily.

“Baguette!” Abby replied with a grin. I smacked my forehead while Giselle looked very confused. “Blame George.”

“Silly Valencian,” I said, shaking my head. I patted Giselle’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Gigi. You’ll soon learn that Abby is just as strange as I am.”

A light went on over her head and she laughed. “Ah, I see! Well, it’s very nice to meet you. Eris talks a lot about you.”

“Is Mandy around?” I asked, wandering into the kitchen.

“Hidden away in her room,” Giselle called back, returning to the depths of the apartment, “As usual.”

Abby tilted her head at me when I returned. “Other roommate, total recluse. Med school does that to you, apparently.” I smiled sheepishly. “Um, I forgot that I was supposed to go grocery shopping, so… wanna go out for breakfast?”

She perked up from laughing at me. “Tacos!”

I blinked a few times. “It’s 9 in the morning,” I said incredulously.

“I love tacos,” Abby stated with a shrug.

I laughed and grabbed my jacket again. “Tacos it is. And as much as you need to visit the taco van, I don’t remember where he parked last time.”

“You suck at remembering things. What’s your name? What’s my name?”

“Missus Josh Randall!” Abby swatted my shoulder. “Ow! Don’t do that, Josh won’t want to marry someone with anger issues. Ow!”

I think we were beginning to annoy the people who worked at the Mexican restaurant near my place, because I knew we were annoying the other customers. Well, that’s what they get for having less fun than we do. It wasn’t my fault they didn’t appreciate our humour, immature and heavily music-related though it may be.

“So you’ll have to allow me one of these, because you’ll probably never hear this ever again,” I said, leaning on the table between us. Abby nodded expectantly. I smirked and emitted a high-pitched noise. “Oh my god, you’re getting married!” She burst out laughing, and I cleared my throat to cover my grin at the stares we were getting. “Okay. I’m done.”

“Thank you,” Abby said, wiping her eye. “And yes, yes I am.” She smiled, expression becoming wistful as she looked out the window. “That is so… awesome.”

“So when’s the big day? Where is it going to be? Have you thought about what you want your dress to look like? How about the bridesmaids? Are they going to be god-awful like every other bridesmaid dress in history?”

She stared at me blankly with wide eyes. “I think that’s the girliest I’ve ever seen you.” I rolled my eyes and tossed a tortilla chip at her. "We haven't decided when or where, I did a little online browsing but not much, and I know you'll make sure the bridesmaids dresses will be fabulous."

I punched the air in victory. “Yesssss!” I paused. “Wait.” Abby laughed. I gave a Boy Scout salute. “I promise I will do everything in my power to make this the most kickass wedding ever.” I jumped when my phone buzzed in my pocket. “And I has a text!”

Two very cute boys are here looking for you, it read from Giselle. I frowned slightly. Cute boys? I texted her that we’d be right back.

“Funny story,” I announced, getting up. Abby followed me, confused. “There are two boys that Giselle thinks are quote ‘very cute’ at the apartment.”

Abby frowned slightly. “Doesn’t she like really self-obsessed, macho jerks who treat her like property?” she wondered aloud.

“Which is why we’re going back and seeing why such creatures would be at my apartment for me.” We walked back to my place, pondering back and forth (completely unseriously) who it might be. Because I definitely knew tons of idiot Long-Island types.

I decided that if I really knew these guys they wouldn’t be weirded out by hearing me singing “Guilty Pleasure” in Spanish from down the hall. And if I didn’t… well, they’d be leaving soon. True, Abby was laughing at me as I danced my way to my apartment, but hey, we make our own fun.

“No me importa ser solo un vicio por ti! Basta! No hables mas!” I unlocked the door and let my friend, still shaking her head, in first before cha-cha-ing after her. “La noche se va, no nos—holy shit!”

“Rian Dawson!” Abby cried, pouncing on Rian and hugging him.

I chuckled at them and beamed at the other guy in the room. “Boyfriend!” I imitated her, tackling Zack onto the couch. Only the momentum was too much and I rolled onto the floor with a loud thud. “Ow, shit.”

All three of them laughed. “You are so graceful,” Rian said, arm still around Abby.

I flipped them off before climbing to my feet. “No hug for you, Robert.” He pouted, but I had already turned my attention back to Zack. “Can we try that again?”

“Hmm…” he hummed thoughtfully, stroking his chin. “Nah, I like your couch. It’s so comfortable.” I pouted, crossing my arms, and squeaked when he tugged me down again.

“Oh my god, get a room,” Abby said.

“Should we leave you two alone for a few hours?” Rian asked, making himself comfortable in a chair. “Maybe go get some lunch, see a movie?”

Zack and I rearranged ourselves so we were both sitting up straight, his arm around my shoulder. “Nah, I’ll kick you out later,” I said, kicking my feet up on the coffee table. “Giselle’s going to dinner with her family later, and apparently the French eat dinner for four to seven hours.”

“Like that opera you made me watch?” Abby hopped onto my lap and hugged me around the neck.

“Well, what was I going to do? Make him watch it with me?” I jabbed a thumb at Zack. “We can hardly make it through a regular-length movie without—”

Zack clapped a hand over my mouth, giving me a bemused look. “What’s got you so hyper?” he asked. “You’re talking as much as Jack.”

Abby and Rian laughed at the burn, as my jaw fell open. But no one could tell, so I licked his hand. And that got rid of that. Abby leaned her chin into her hand, and after a moment, Rian asked, "New ring?” He leaned forward, blinking, before getting up and taking her left hand. “What the hell?”

“Oh that…” she said, admiring it herself. “Pretty, isn’t it? Shiny too!”

I rolled my eyes, laughing at her simplicity. Zack leaned to scrutinize it. “Whoa, is that an engagement ring?”

Abby grinned. “Whoa, yeah it is.”

Cue congratulations and hugs, both us girls getting crushed and protests against it. Hello, boys? Excitable and don’t know their own strength.

Eventually, though, we settled down to simply hang out and catch up. I caught myself a few times staring at Zack, just smiling and realizing exactly how much I missed him whenever he was away. And because we both had the ESP on when someone’s looking at you, he noticed, and I knew he missed me too.

Abby evidently caught these exchanges of ~looks. “Well, I know you guys aren’t around each other much,” she said after a while, pulling Rian out of his seat, “So…” She smiled brightly. “We’ll be back later!”

Legs crossed over Zack’s lap, I turned around to watch them cross to the door. “Plus, because you never see Zack,” she added, “That also means I never see my bestest friend Rian, so… yeah. Have fun sexing!”

As the front door slammed shut, I slid my hand over my face in embarrassment. “Well, she’s not wrong,” Zack chuckled.

I narrowed my eyes at him between my fingers and he gave me an innocent smile. Soon I found myself laughing. “If you weren’t so cute,” I warned.

“You’d what?” He pulled me by the waist into his lap and held me there. I bit my lower lip, trying not to return his smile; it didn’t stop me from slipping my arms around his neck though.

“I don’t remember.” He chuckled and kissed me slowly.

I smiled as I pulled away. “Did you miss me?” Zack asked quietly, making my eyes cross to meet his.

I thought about it for a few seconds before smiling. “Nope!” I decided. He made a sad face before nibbling at the base of my neck, making me squeak in protest; I pushed him away, laughing, and almost fell off his lap. I would have done if he hadn’t been holding on me.

“You are not having much luck with falling today,” Zack laughed.

My lower lip pouted out and I shook my head sadly. “Gravity does not love me.”

He gave me a light kiss on the lips. “But I do.”

“Well, fuck gravity then.”