Playing With Fire

An awkwardness had overtaken two of the three people sitting at the small table. Bridgette and James were both too surprised to speak; Bridgette fumbled with the hem of her sundress and James rubbed the back of his neck while repeatedly checking his watch. Reece talked animatedly about the city, sports, his job, and anything else that came to his head until a high school girl came over dressed in black with a notepad.

She politely asked if they were ready to order, and Bridgette and James both muttered out the first things they saw on the menu; their first words of the lunch since setting their eyes on each other. Both of them were still overwhelmed with shock. Reece looked over the menu before deciding, and as they watched the girl's swinging ponytail disappear from sight, Reece returned to his casual chatter. He was completely oblivious to the discomfort.

"So-" he started, but was cut off by the obnoxious buzzing of his cell phone. He looked at the caller ID and bit his lip a bit. His gaze turned apologetic as he faced his fiancée.

"What's wrong?" Bridgette inquired, her eyes falling upon his vibrating phone. Her voice was tense, but other than that it sounded exactly like James had remembered. He ran a hand through his hair, pleading for this to be one big nightmare. Naturally, it was as real as the air he was breathing at an erratic pace.

"I have to take this call. I'm so sorry, I'll be right back," Reece explained before excusing himself from the table.

Bridgette's eyes widened in dread as she attempted to avoid looking at James, who was ironically doing the exact same thing. In the process, their eyes met, and they found themselves unable to break the stare.

A very uncomfortable silence filled the air, which suddenly seemed ice cold. James shifted in his chair, clearing his throat. Bridgette chewed on her cheek, trying to decide if it would be incredibly inappropriate to bolt from the restaurant. James's thoughts were headed in the same direction.

“So, you’re Reece’s best friend from school?” she attempted to break the unease, but it only made it worse. James's face turned red as he jutted his chin out defiantly.

“You’re marrying him?” James retorted, his voice cracking.

Bridgette's lips parted as she tried to think of an explanation or excuse. She felt so incredibly silly; she didn't owe him any sort of explanation, but she just couldn't help herself. James awaited her sarcastic, snippy response, but it never came. It scared him a little; Bridgette had never speechless. They were deadlocked.

“I can’t do this, I gotta go,” James mumbled in realization, pushing away from the table. He felt like a little kid running away, but he couldn't help it. His age felt like it had suddenly slipped back twenty years. Between that and being around Bridgette, it was all just much more than he could handle.

Bridgette saw what she was doing and stood up too, her small hand wrapping around his wrist across the table. James shot her an annoyed glare. The spot where her skin touched his felt like it was on fire, just like he remembered. He tried not to notice it, instead forcing himself to focus on his escape.

"Let go, Bridgette," he demanded, but he sounded more exhausted than threatening. She scoffed, not missing a beat. That was the girl he remembered.

"No," she shot back quickly. He tugged against her grip, but she made no attempt to loosen it or back off.

"Bridge-"

“No, James. Just listen to me for once, okay?"

"I listen-"

"James, shhh," she commanded, holding her other hand to his lips. "Look, it doesn’t matter how uncomfortable this makes us or how much either of us want to pretend this just isn't happening. You’re his best friend, I’m his fiancée. That's just how it is, I guess; Hell, I couldn't have predicted this, and I'm guessing you didn't either. I know I'd rather not be in this situation; I mean, it felt like I was crawling into a hole a few minutes ago.

"But here's the thing. We can't go back and change things, or make it so we never met or make things end differently. I can't take back what I said, and you can't either. So we're stuck here."

James started to interrupt her, but it was just muffled against her pointer finger. She gave him a sharp look before continuing.

"We can't change it so here's what we're going to do. We’re going to go on with this whole thing and we're going to act like we're damn happy about it. We aren't going to grumble and complain and make this miserable. You're going to be the best man, and I'm going to be an ecstatic bride, alright? Because it’s what Reece wants.

"The only damn thing he's asked for in life is for me to marry him and you to be the best man. And we're going to do that with a smile on our faces because he’s a really good guy. He's a great guy, better than either of us deserve.”

She stared deep into his eyes for a few more moments, and when she was finally sure he had heard her, she dropped her hands to her sides. James's feet felt like they were stuck to the ground. As much as he wanted to drive back to his apartment and pretend this had never happened, he knew he couldn't.

She was right.

Slowly, he began to nod, and his hand rubbed the back of his neck as he thought. Bridgette pursed her lips, waiting for him to say something, anything. Finally, with a sigh, he sat down and she did the same.

"Alright," he relented. "For Reece."

"We're both different people now; I mean, we're probably strangers. And after the wedding, we can go back to that."

James felt his heart tug a bit at her words, but he swallowed the feeling and found himself agreeing with her.

"Strangers; like the past never happened."