The Hangover: Part IV

ONE WEEK EARLIER

The halls of Harrison Intermediate School were quiet. Too quiet. On either side of one particular hall, the walls were painted a bland shade of taupe and there were rows of maroon lockers; both colors seemed to purposely match the school's color scheme of maroon and gold. The floor had a shiny glare to it, revealing it must've been waxed recently or that the bottom of the students' and faculty's shoes were impeccable.

Samantha "Sam" Simmons looked down at her own shoes as she walked the hall; she was wearing a pair of red pumps she had treated herself to that very morning. The heels clacked unceremoniously on the hard linoleum below her as she peered into each classroom she passed. Most rooms were empty but a couple of teachers were sitting at their desks, or writing things on their chalkboards to prepare for their next lessons. The classrooms, however, were without students as Sam knew lunch had begun five minutes earlier in the first floor cafeteria.

This meant she only had a short window of opportunity to do what she planned and she knew that Phil Wenneck, her fiancé of the last six months, preferred to eat his own lunch in his classroom because he thought the majority of the other faculty members were complete tools and eating with the students was not an option.

Coming up to classroom 212, Sam peered briefly into the window and saw Phil erasing something from the chalkboard with a can of Coke in his free hand. Without a moment's hesitation, Sam pulled the door open and shut it quickly behind her; the entire time, her focus was exclusively on Phil, who turned to see who had just walked in unannounced.

As soon as his blue eyes fell on her, his initial scowl began to quickly fade into a mischievous grin. He looked her over, from head to toe; from how her auburn locks were curled to perfection thanks to her hairdresser squeezing her in that morning, to the khaki-colored trench coat from H&M and down to her small feet entrenched into those brand-spanking new red pumps.

Quirking an eyebrow, he lowered the hand holding the chalkboard eraser. "Well, hello there."

"Shut up," she remarked. "We only have twenty minutes, give or take." Without another word, Sam untied the belt around her coat and opened it up wide, revealing she was wearing only a pair of black lace panties with matching black lace bra underneath.

The look on Phil's face was not the one she was hoping for. While there was the glimmer of surprise and lust in those sparkly blue orbs of his, he bit his lips together to keep from chuckling. She looked him in the eye, as he narrowed his gaze. She gave him a little shimmy of her body and then followed his gaze to the back of the room where she found someone was sitting.

Quickly, Sam wrapped the coat back about her body and grimaced. "Oh, fuck, Doug! You coulda said something!"

In one of the last desks in the back of the room, Doug Billings sat with a hand over his mouth, laughter brimming forth as he offered Sam a sympathetic look. "Sorry," he laughed. "But you busted in here so fast and didn't give me a chance to say hello before you began your striptease act."

Sam closed her eyes tight and then opened them back up at Phil, trying to force a smile. "Well, that was a few shades of embarrassing."

"Aww, baby, it's okay," Phil muttered, still trying his hardest not to laugh in his fiancée's face. He set the eraser down on the chalkboard ledge and his Coke can on his desk. Walking up to Sam, he brought her into his arms and gave her a kiss. "That's the best hello anyone has given me today. Bad timing, sure, but definitely appreciated." He then glanced at Doug who was standing up and walking toward the front of the classroom. "And it's not like Doug hasn't seen you wearing next to nothing before."

"That was once in New York and that was only because of those pictures. We never did remember anything from that night anyway."

"I was actually talking about the times we all went to the beach together with our families and you wearing a bikini, but I like how your mind automatically goes to when we were drunk and tripping on LSD."

Doug placed a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Really, it's okay. Don't worry about it. I was only here to talk to Phil's class for Career Day."

"Oh, yes, the exciting life of a real estate agent," Sam teased.

Patting Phil on the back, Doug just made a playful scowl at Sam. "Hey, don't knock it. I was both Phil and Stu's agent and found them their homes."

"And great homes they are, buddy," Phil smirked, patting his friend's arm as he moved for the door. "Don't pay attention to Sam. She doesn't realize when she's being mean."

Sam made a face at Phil. "I was not being mean! I was teasing..."

Phil chuckled. "Oh, babe, we know. We're just fucking with you."

Sam punched Phil in the shoulder, causing her coat to open a little. "Asshole."

Doug joined in on the joking laughter and gave Sam a reassuring tap to her shoulder. "Alright, well I gotta get going. I have a house to show at one-thirty. See you two tonight?"

Sam turned her head as she and Phil both looked at Doug with a nod of their heads. "Yep. Five o'clock on the dot," she replied.

"Okay, see ya then." Doug waved lamely and headed out of the class, making sure the door closed behind him.

When the coast was clear, Sam gave Phil a playful shove backward and went about retying her trench coat back up, much to Phil's displeasure.

"Aw, come on...we still have," he looked at his watch, "about fifteen minutes."

"The mood is gone, Mr. Wenneck."

"Ooh, call me that again," Phil grinned, reaching his hands out to grab at her hips and tug at her coat's belt. When she kept him from untying the belt he frowned and took a step back. "Fine, fine." He sat down on the edge of his desk. "You were the one who came here to surprise me with some afternoon delight, not the other way around."

"Which means I can rescind the offer." Sam walked over to the first desk in the front closest to her and sat down, crossing her legs. "We can still use those fifteen minutes to talk."

"'Cause that's more fun than sex," he muttered sarcastically.

Sam rolled her eyes. After a few moments of the two of them just sharing a gaze, she spoke up with, "So, how come Alan is throwing us a pre-rehearsal rehearsal dinner at his parents' house?"

Phil shrugged, picking up his Coke can and taking a quick sip. "'Cause he's Alan, and that's just what he does."

"Don't get me wrong, it's a nice gesture, but not necessary. I mean, it's not like we don't have a million and one other things we're already obligated to before this circus takes place." Sam placed her elbows on the desk and then her face in her hands, running her fingers momentarily through her locks. Letting out a sigh, she knitted her brow together. "Remind me again why I agreed to let my parents pay for everything?"

"Because we don't make enough combined to throw the type of wedding they approve of."

"And why do I need their approval?"

"Because you're sad and pathetic."

Sam, without looking at Phil, flipped him the bird. "We should've just eloped. It would've been so much easier."

Phil stood up and walked over to sit at the desk beside Sam. Scooting his chair closer to her, he took her hands in hers and smiled charmingly at her. "Just think of it as the people we love want to show their own love for us by throwing us fantastic parties in our honor. All we have to do is show up, look good and have fun."

"Easier said than done."

Phil removed one of his hands from hers and patted his lap, gesturing for her to come over and sit down on it. Begrudgingly, she obliged him. She pushed her chair back and took a couple steps over to him before plopping down in his lap where he readily wrapped his arms around her waist.

"We wanted a small, destination wedding with our friends and family and even though this is turning out to be a hell of a lot bigger than we had hoped, it's still a destination wedding with our friends and family. And your parents are paying for it. Your mother has taken it upon herself to work with the wedding planner and organize an entire ceremony and reception in fuckin' Ibiza! You told her your ideal wedding was on the beach in Ibiza and she's giving that to you. Granted, it's being blown out of proportion because your mother's a Jew by marriage," Phil spoke, poking fun with the last part which garnered a small shove to his shoulder by Sam. "Point is, we're going to have an amazing wedding, no matter where it is, or who's there, or how big or small it is. As long as you say 'I do' when you reach the end of the aisle, I'm happy with whatever."

"I just feel like my mother is trying to live vicariously through me," Sam explained. "Her wedding to my dad was small because half of their families didn't even show up because she came from a staunch Catholic family and was marrying into an equally staunch Jewish family. Their parents didn't approve of their union and they had to pay for their own wedding. No one helped them financially. With my sister, my mom got to throw that big wedding she always wanted but it wasn't exactly the way she wanted to plan it because of my sister being a big, honkin' lesbo."

Phil clamped his hands on either side of Sam's face and moved the thumb from his right hand over her lips to hush her up. "Just stop over-thinking it all. Let go and let God or whatever." To silence her further, Phil pulled her face down and kissed her lips. When she all but turned to goo amid the kiss, Phil pulled back and brushed some hair out of her face. "It's gonna be all good."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"And if, at any point, you see me ready to attack my mother, you'll reign me in?"

"Till death do us part."

Sam smiled at that and returned the kiss he gave her. Grabbing his right hand, she pulled it out to the side so she could glance down at his wristwatch. "We have ten minutes until your next class."

Phil met her gaze and raised his eyebrows. He knew immediately what she was getting at. Lifting her up in his arms, she wrapped her legs around his waist as he walked them over to the classroom door and pulled the shade down over the door's window, then locked it.

"Sounds like enough time to me."

And they sank to the floor.



Phil and Sam were sitting side by side at the Garner dining room table, with Phil leaning closer to her as he held her hand. On Phil's right, his now fourteen year old son Eli sat, playing with his cell phone under the table. Immediately across from Eli sat Stu, followed by Lauren, Doug and Tracy. On either ends of the table sat Sid and Linda Garner. All, except for Eli, were staring at Alan, who was standing at Sam's left, holding a composition notebook with a Jonas Brothers sticker slightly noticeable on the cover.

"It feels like it was yesterday that I first met Phil when Doug brought him around in the months before his marriage to my sister, Tracy," Alan was saying, reading from one of the pages in the notebook. "He was so handsome and charming that if I were a gay, I would've wanted to be his lover."

Not even two sentences into his speech and he was already pushing the envelope. Phil immediately covered his face with his hand as Eli looked up and made a face.

"Ew," Eli muttered.

Phil looked briefly at his son then back toward Alan. Stu was slightly wide-eyed at the comment, but the others seemed to be taking it better in stride, chalking it up as another Alan-ism.

"Alan," Sid spoke. "Skip ahead, son."

"Sorry." He only then realized he must've said something wrong when he noticed Phil's expression. "Sorry, Phil." Alan moved his finger down the lines on the page and found a spot to continue on. "Me and Doug, and then Phil and Stu, we became a wolf pack when we went to Vegas, and our pack became almost unstoppable in Bangkok, except for all those times we almost got killed. And two years ago I met Sam and she was awesome."

Sam smirked, looking upward at the portly man who's beard was fully grown back. In truth, it took an eerily short time to grow back to its original length.

"I don't count Lauren's brother Teddy as part of the wolf pack because he was a minor and he cut his finger off like a pussy..."

"Alan," Tracy hissed at her brother.

"Sorry," he apologized again. "But Sam earned her place in the pack. Her sister did too, I guess, but she's busy being a doctor in New York with her lesbian housewife."

"Alan," came Tracy, Sid and Doug's laments.

"Sorry." Alan looked up and saw all the faces looking back at him. Looking back down at his notebook, he fumbled, trying to find where he'd left off. "Uh...oh yeah, um...Sam earned her place as part of the wolf pack as the bitch and please don't 'Alan' me because that's the real name for a female wolf," he added, making sure no one cut him off. He glanced up at the usual suspects, then continued. "I am very happy for Phil to find a woman who is the Cinderella to his Prince Charming because the two of them together are what happy endings are made of."

The end of Alan's speech actually took everyone by surprise at how sweet and well thought out it was. Sam was so touched she reached her hand out and gave Alan's a squeeze.

"Aww, Alan, that was beautiful."

Alan smiled down at her. "You're welcome, Sam." He looked at Phil, seeking his approval.

"That means a lot, buddy."

Alan beamed. He appeared a little flustered as he looked down at his notebook and then across at all the faces around the table, then down to his glass of wine which he picked up, staring into its contents. "To Phil and Sam. I hope you get your happily ever after," he toasted, sitting down.

Everyone lifted their glasses. Phil nudged his son to stop texting and do the same. "To Phil and Sam," they all cheered, clinking their glasses together. Taking sips, they each set their glasses back down as Tracy cleared her throat.

"Since we're all together before we leave for Ibiza on Thursday, us girls wanted to discuss something with you guys." Tracy leaned forward to look at Lauren on the other side of Doug.

"Tracy and I talked it over with Sam who is in agreement that we don't think it's a great idea, given the previous three times you guys have gone away together, that you have a bachelor party this upcoming weekend."

Phil was the first to express his displeasure with that announcement. "Wait a minute..."

Sam touched her hand to Phil's arm. "Hear Lauren and Tracy out," she spoke. "I was only a part of the last lost weekend and I know how insane it was. I can only imagine what the two times before that were like and the worry they went through wondering whether or not their grooms were going to make it to the wedding. I don't want that. I don't want to worry about you getting misplaced...or Doug, since his disappearances with you guys seems to be some running gag on a cosmic level."

"We're not saying we don't want you to have a bachelor party, exactly, we just don't want you all going off on your own without some sort of supervision..." Tracy trailed, her tone sounding as if she was questioning her choice of words.

"We want to combine the bachelor and bachelorette parties into one party," Lauren finished the thought process.

"It'll be a Jack and Jill party," Sam added. "Plenty of couples have them instead of separate parties."

Stu and Doug seemed perfectly okay with the idea, either because their respective wives had already informed them of it, or they just liked the idea of extra bodies there to make sure none of them got drugged or misplaced while still being able to have a good time.

"Fine with me," Stu shrugged, bringing his drink to his lips.

"I like the idea of not getting misplaced," Doug added.

Phil was the only one who seemed a little skittish on the idea. "I don't know..." he mumbled, unsure.

Sam looked at Phil. "It really isn't a suggestion, babe. It's a Jack and Jill or nothing at all." She raised an eyebrow at him and flashed him a saucy grin.

Narrowing his eyes at her, he read into them and sighed. Looking across the table at his friends and their wives, Phil finally shrugged. "Alright. Okay, it's a deal. But I make no promises on not getting a little insane. It's my party and I'll go ape shit if I wanna."

Sam kicked him under the table.

"Ow," he leaned forward to rub his shin and added, "It's our party and we'll go ape shit if we wanna," he amended. Catching her eye again, he leaned forward to steal a kiss which she readily gave to him.

Eli leaned forward to look at his father. "Dad, aren't you a little old to be having crazy parties?"

"I'm not even forty yet, Eli," Phil scoffed.

Alan chuckled into his wine glass. "Classic teenager."