White Wedding

I shaded my eyes from the deliberately evil sun in disgust. Seriously? Was it enough that I was wearing a sherbert orange dress? No, absolutely not. The wedding had to be outside, in the unholy weather of Texas in July. Who does that? Do people intentionally decide to make the "happiest day of their life" miserable for everyone else attending? Obviously so. But me, being the delightfully pleasant girl that I was, did not make any rude comments or sarcastic remarks. I just stood their in my reflectant, hideous dress; hoping that, if nothing, the usher I would be paired with would be cute.

Unfortunately, that was not the case.

*Snort* was all I needed to hear. I spun around quickly (nearly tearing my fishnets), to face the most awful wedding girft I had ever laid eyes upon. My usher looked like Harry Potter had been hit in the face by acne and bad cologne a few thousand times, and then run over by a bad case of brace face. I had to stop myself from cringing at the obvious fact of his lack of personal hygiene. It was so typical of my life. Did God hate me or something? If so, why? I've never done anything seriously detrimental! I've only made the world a tad more interesting. Why did I deserve to be punished this way?

"I'm Dylan" he half spoke, half sneezed in my direction (I felt somewhat bad for the kid, with a name like that it's not like you could be attractive, parents can be so cruel); then he wiped his nose with the forefront of his palm and made a manouver to shake my hand! Luckily, I have had specific spy training on how to avoid such incidents and disasters. I side-stepped the bacteria-immersed handshake with a clever excuse.

"Sorry, nails", I held up my pathetic half eaten, half lime green nail-ettes; okay, or not so clever. Maybe I should have gone a little more in depth with that spy training. Nonetheless, I nodded my head in aknowledgement and offered: "I'm Juliet", then added sweetly, "but none of the 'Julie' crap. That name was invented for four year olds that cannot discern the difference between fingerpainting and Da Vinci". I grinned for effect. Suprisingly, he chuckled- then wheezed, and then choked, and eventually, used his inhaler. It was a rather awkward situation, standing there while your usher is choking; but my spy training hadn't covered the Heimlick Manouver so... oh well! When he had finished with his brush with death, the infinitesimal orchestra began to play the hideously overplayed wedding tune, graciously saving me from any further conversation with Harry Potter meets Brace Face.

He offered me his arm in a gentlemanly manner, which almost would have been nice if he had seemed like he wasn't trying to grope me; and just as I was about to embark on the walk of doom with Mr. Desperate, fate made an unexpected stop.

Someone crashed into me from behind sending my bouqet flying! I turned on my heel, ready to tear into the throat of the person responsible, when I came to meet the most dazzling, gorgeous, earth shattering, breathtaking green eyes I had ever encountered in my lifetime. For the first time in my life, I was speechless; which I'm sure was incredibly attractive considering the fact that my mouth was gaping open, and that he(the person responsible) was four inches away from my face, inhaling my cheerio breath. But for some reason, I couldn't help myself. His eyes were far too enthralling; it was as if they had drawn me in, and I had absolutely no intention of leaving. The color was almost emerald, with little hints of olive here and there, one could almost get lost in such a lovely daydream of green crystal, if fact I almost did. But my usher grunted uncomfortably, and suddenly I was hit by reality like a subway in New York- cold, unforgiving, and fast.

"Sorry" he breathed with a smirk so perfect that one would expect he had practiced in front of a mirror seven times a day. Oh dear Lord he had dimples, and perfectly white teeth. Suddenly, out of nowhere, he magically summoned my bouqet (or picked it up off of the ground, I'm not sure, I was temporarily stunned) and placed it in my hand gently- his hands were incredibly soft, by the way. Then he brushed past me with enough attitude to possibly be flirtatious, or maybe just be determined to get into his place as the second usher. My hand felt as though it had been dipped in array of sunshine and rainbows, and for the first time in a while, fuzziness replaced the shadowy cobwebs where my heart had once been. Well okay, maybe not to that extent, but it was a fairly wonderful feeling.

I gawked with admiration, and my usher with unfiltered hatred, as the most handsome boy I had ever seen took his place- undoubtedly- by the most beautiful girl at the wedding. Of course. The universe was incisively cruel, I decided as I stepped into place behind the "beatiful couple"; did that make my couple the "odd and unattractive couple"? If it did, that was simply unacceptable.

What was also unaccpetable, was the degree of gorgeous that the boy in front of my had somehow acquired. All I needed now was his name, phone number, and his soul.

Okay, I was totally kidding about the last part.....seriously.