“Make sure those quiches are done! I don’t want any soupy quiches!” Sammy yelled at catering while stomping around the rented venue in her heels. Raychel and I just stood back and watched her, wondering why in the hell she had wanted us here so early anyway.

She’d come knocking on our door a few hours ago asking us to come and help her set everything up, and we didn’t really mind. But once we got here, we’d found out that she had hired people to decorate, to cook, and to monitor the guest list.

What the hell were we supposed to help her do?

“Can quiches even be soupy?” Raychel asked me with a curious look as we sat at a table in the middle of the room. The decorators had done a beautiful job. It was all done in white with gold accents… which matched Sammy’s dress. Only she would match her party to her dress. And yes, it was actually done in that order.

“Fuck if I know,” I sighed, resting my chin on my hand. “I’ve never even had a quiche.”

“Well then, I guess we won’t know if it’s soupy or not,” she mused, groaning and leaning her head on the table. “I’m so tired.”

“Were you and Tyler up arguing all night again?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow at my friend. She and Tyler had been arguing quite a bit the past couple of days, and it was starting to worry me. They usually got along so well. Not saying that they didn’t argue, because they did. But it was usually a short spat, then over and forgotten. This had gone on for the better part of the week. It was like the universe was turned up on its head.

“He just won’t let it go,” she sighed, lifting her head up just a bit to look at me. “It’s like he doesn’t realize how much getting my masters degree means to me.”

“I don’t completely understand why he’s so against it anyway,” I commented, toying with the centerpiece on the table. “He knew from the beginning of your relationship that you intended to get a masters degree.”

“That was before we lost the baby though,” she said quietly, picking at a thread on the table cloth. She had the sad look that always overcame her eyes when the topic of her miscarriage came, and I felt my heart constrict for her. I hated seeing my best friend in pain. “He keeps bringing that up. He’s worried that it would happen again if I go back to school, because of the stress.”

“That’s not even fair!” I argued, contemplating on how hard I was going to slap Kennedy when I saw him. “You didn’t lose the baby because of stress, sweetheart. You lost it because of a car accident. It wasn’t because you went to school, or because of Tyler’s schedule, or anything like that. And it certainly wasn’t your fault. It was a freak accident.”

“I know,” she nodded. “He’s just worried. Losing the baby nearly killed me… nearly killed us. He just doesn’t want me to put too much pressure on myself I guess. Maybe he doesn’t think I’m ready for it… I don’t know. I just wish we could stop fighting over it.”

“I know you do,” I sighed sadly. I wasn’t sure what to tell her honestly. I had no magic solution that would make the two of them stop fighting. As much as I wanted to just make it stop for her sake, I couldn’t.

“Where are the tea sandwiches? They should be finished by now!” I heard Sammy yell from the other room. I smiled a bit to myself and shook my head.

“She sounds like her mother,” I pointed out to Raychel, who wrinkled her nose in response.

“As if we needed another Susan Bryans,” Raychel snickered. “If I believed in Satan, I would believe that woman was his spawn.”

“You know she’s going to be here, right?” I asked, trying to stifle my laughter so Sammy didn’t hear. She knew we weren’t fond of her mom, but that only stemmed from her mom outright disliking us. Raychel groaned and thumped her head against the table.

“Why?” she whined, looking totally disheartened. “As if I’m not having a rough enough time, I have to deal with that vapid bitch. What did I do to get karma that sucks this bad?”

“Apparently a lot of sucking,” I giggled. She didn’t respond, just gave me the finger.

“I really hope this doesn’t turn out to be a disaster,” a rather distraught looking Sammy sighed as she joined me and Raychel at the table. She looked about run dry, but it was because she insisted upon following around all of the people she had hired to throw the party for her.

“It won’t Sam, just relax. Everything will be fine,” Raychel assured her.

“Raychel, my mother is coming, something will go wrong.”

“No, your mom will just make up something that’s gone wrong. Just chill, Sambo,” I grinned, nudging her shoulder a bit. “Besides, Susan will be too busy bitching at Ray and I to bitch at you.”

“Not that it’s her business,” Raychel added. “This is your party, not hers. If it’s good enough for you, no one else here has the right to complain. This is your night Sammy.”

“You’re right,” she nodded, a smile growing on her face. “You’re absolutely right. It is my party.”

“Yes it is!” I cheered, egging her on.

“And it will be marvelous!”

“Damn right it will!” Raychel fist pumped.

“Now, I’m going to check on the food one more time,” Sammy mumbled quickly before rushing off. I rolled my eyes. Well, we tried.

“Should we go with her?” Raychel mumbled thoughtfully, watching our blonde friend trot off to wreak havoc on the help once again. I snorted and shook my head.

“Fuck that. I’m going to raid the free bar,” I winked, pushing myself up of the table. Raychel scoffed.

“Taylor, the bartender isn’t even out here yet.”

“Your point?” I raised an eyebrow. “I know how to make my own damn drinks. And it’s paid for already, not like I’m stealing,” I shrugged with a grin, walking backwards to continue talking to her as she stared at me, looking like she couldn’t believe what I was saying. “Besides, I beat the line this way.”

“And your liver.”

“Technicalities,” I waved off, grabbing a glass from under the bar and assessing the alcohol on display. “Thank God Sammy booked a bartender with good shit,” I grinned to myself, busying myself with making my first drink of the night. God knows I’d need it to get through this without a total breakdown. Not only do I have to sit through a party dedicated to Max and Sammy getting hitched soon, but I’ll probably have to speak at some point since I’m the best man-thingie.

Oh, and I get to see Susan.

You can imagine my joy.

I heard the doors open and heels clicking on the floor, along with the heavier footsteps that belonged to men, but I was too busy to look up right away. The last thing I wanted to do was spill this shit while pouring it. Alcohol stains could be a bitch to get out. Plus, I really didn’t want to spend this party smelling like I was the bartender. That would just be embarrassing.

“At the bar already chére?”

“Shit!” I hissed, jumping a bit when I heard Max speak. I hadn’t realized he was so close to me, nor had I realized that I had been caught. A bit of my drink sloshed out of the glass and onto my hand and I scowled. “Mother fucker.”

“You always had such a dirty mouth for such a pretty girl,” he laughed while I licked the alcohol off of my hand.

“Fuck off Talbot,” I huffed, taking a drink and sitting on one of the barstools. I chanced a glance over at him, and found him staring at the layout before him. I wasn’t lying when I said that the place was beautiful. It was something every girl would be jealous of. Fuck, I knew I was jealous. “Excited?”

“In awe,” he corrected, taking my glass out of my hand without even looking and taking a long drink. “I can’t believe I’m actually engaged.”

“Me either,” I said with such a brutal honesty that I shocked myself. “Didn’t think you’d ever tie yourself down.”

“Oh I knew I would,” he commented, squinting his eyes a bit in thought. “I just… I didn’t think it would be so soon. And I never thought it would be with someone like Samantha.”

That’s because it should be with me…

God I wanted to say it, I wanted to say it so bad. But I couldn’t. He looked so happy, so at peace with himself. He never was like that with me. And Sam… God Sam was ecstatic. She finally had a guy that worshipped her, that didn’t look at her as a trophy girl, or arm candy. How could I ever say anything against this? How could I intentionally hurt two of the people I cared about most in this world, just so that I could get rid of this ache in my chest from carrying my burden?

Easy, I couldn’t.

“Funny how things work out,” I replied, taking a big gulp of my drink to try to rid my voice of the roughness that my hurt seemed to create. “You guys will be happy together though.”

“Think so?” he asked eagerly, his eyes lighting up at the idea of a happy future with Sammy. I chewed on the inside of my lip, swallowing to dislodge the lump in my throat.

“I know so.”

He smiled and reached over to grab my hand, giving it a soft squeeze, and not letting go. “You know, I don’t think I’ve actually taken the time to thank you for all this.”

“For all of what?” I was trying really hard to stop the feeling stirring inside of me from his thumb rubbing the back of my hand. He used to do that all the time when I was nervous or upset, he knew that it helped relax me. But now the intimate action was creating the anxiety that it used to relieve. I wished he would stop doing all the sweet things he used to do when we were together, I really do. It makes it so much harder to accept that we’re over for good.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, half of his mouth upturned in a grin. “For being so cool about all of this. For not throwing a fit like most girls would if their ex got with one of their friends. For agreeing to be my best man. For being my friend. For being you, ma minou,” he winked. I groaned and shook my head.

“You’re really going to have to stop calling me that Max.”

“Why? I’ve always called you that.”

“Because it’s not right. That’s not something you should call your ex, friend or not. Especially not when you’re engaged,” I pointed out.

“So because I’m engaged, I have to treat you differently now?” he frowned. I laughed and nodded. Had he really not realized that yet?

Well, considering that he kissed me at Pascal’s… I suppose it’s possible that he hadn’t.

“Well yeah. I don’t think Sammy would appreciate it if she heard you calling me your… kitty,” I said gently, watching the smirk grow on his face.

“But Taylor,” he whined, getting a wicked look in his eyes. “Sammy doesn’t know what it means. And besides… you are my kitty.”

“If you want to keep Rufus intact, you might want to watch what you say Talby,” I warned as I took a sip of my drink. His smirk quickly fell and was replaced with a frown.

“I still can’t believe you called it Rufus,” he grumbled, glaring at the ground. I snickered and nudged his shoulder.

“I told you, I’m sorry! It’s not my fault that my reaction to seeing my first penis was imagining Rufus from Kim Possible. It was just… a natural reaction,” I explained.

“First?” he questioned, looking interested. “I thought you weren’t a virgin when we… you know,” he trailed off, wiggling his eyebrows for extra effect. He really just made himself look like a dirty pervert.

“I wasn’t. But the first time really didn’t count. No lights, didn’t remember most of it, it was horrible anyway. I pretty much consider you my first most of the time anyway. You were the first one to get me to… you know… after all,” I blushed. How had we gotten on this subject again? It was definitely not a good subject to be on right now.

Fuck… I need another drink.

“What was I the first to get you to do?” he asked, looking lost. I groaned and shook my head, mumbling my answer. “What was that chére? I couldn’t hear you.”

“Cum,” I hissed, glaring at him. “You were the first one to get me to cum, you were the one that taught me how great sex was, and you’re the best fuck I’ve had. Haven’t we been through this before?” I asked in exasperation.

“We have, I just like to hear you say it,” he grinned, ducking when I tried to swat at him. “Hey! Hey! No hitting the guest of honor!” he told me, pushing away from the bar and trying to walk away from me. I scoffed and followed him, still swatting at his head.

“Honor my ass! You insufferable, perverted bastard!” I screeched, following after him as fast as I could in my heels. He just laughed harder and tried to speed up, trying to lose me by dodging between tables. Just because he was a hockey player doesn’t mean he can outsmart me. “Oh you’d better run Talbot! I’m about to put my heel right up your froggy ass!”

“Good to see that these two still get along as well as always.”

Both Max and I skidded to a halt with wide eyes, turning to look at the group that was now watching us in amusement. Well… most of them were watching in amusement. I could see one very distinct glare amongst the group.

“H-hey Mrs. Talbot,” I stuttered out, trying to straighten my hair up a bit and compose myself. “How are you?”

Raychel and Lyndsey snickered at my attempt, while Tyler and Sidney just grinned.

“I’m lovely dear,” Max’s mother smiled at me. “It’s good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you too,” I said honestly. I loved Max’s mom. She was such a sweet woman. “You too Mr. Talbot,” I addressed to her husband.

“I’ve told you a ‘undred times, it’s Serge,” he laughed, ruffling my hair a bit before looking at his son. “Now, why don’t you take us to meet your fiancée?”

“Right,” Max nodded, looking at me for help. I raised an eyebrow, wanting to know why he looked so confused. “Do you know where Samantha is?”

“She was chasing around one of the decorators last I saw her,” Lyndsey offered helpfully. He smiled in thanks and led his parents off in search of Sammy.

“Well Taylor, I see you’ve yet to lose your habit of making inappropriate entrances.”

I groaned inwardly. I had hoped that I was seeing things when I saw her glaring at me a moment ago, but I was obviously mistaken. Why, oh why, did I have to run into this succubus bitch?

“Hello Susan,” I replied with a tight smile. “I see you still have that large stick lodged firmly up your ass.”

That ruffled her feathers a bit. She was too shocked to give me a condescending look for a moment. Score one for Taylor. Bet you weren’t expecting that one, bitch!

Raychel tried to cover up her laughter, knowing that she would have to deal with Susan a lot throughout the wedding planning. It was in her best interest not to piss her off any more than necessary. Lyndsey, however, outright laughed. In fact, she was laughing so hard that Sidney had to apologize and drag her away.

“Taylor, why don’t you go make sure everyone can find the ballroom,” Raychel cut in quickly, before Bitchy McBitchpants could pop that blood vessel that was starting to twitch on her forehead.

“Will do,” I replied happily, sending Susan a smug smile as I passed.

I toyed with my wineglass as I sat at the table with the rest of the groomsmen and their girlfriends. This dinner was way too dull. There was no excitement, everyone was just… eating. Where’s the fun in that?

I’m making a vow now… at my engagement party… there will be fun things! There will be dancing, and music, and people talking. Oh! And karaoke! There will definitely be karaoke! I love karaoke!

I was better off than most people though. Raychel was stuck with all the bridesmaids and their boyfriends or whatever the fuck they were. And poor Max and Sammy were stuck at a table with Susan. Not even Max’s wonderful parents could dig someone out of that black hole of misery.

“Did you already finish another glass of wine, ducky?” Sarah asked, looking a bit stunned as she stared at my empty glass. I looked up at her and smiled.

“Mhm. It’s good wine,” I smiled, figuring I should be social instead of retreating to my thoughts. Maybe if I was social I wouldn’t be so bored. And maybe if I wasn’t so bored, I wouldn’t feel so miserable. Maybe. “So… the quiches aren’t soupy, are they?” I asked, grabbing the attention of everyone at the table.

“… What?” Marc Andre asked slowly, his face uplifting into a grin.

“The quiches,” I repeated, trying to pretend I knew what I was talking about. To be honest, I still don’t know what the fuck a quiche was. But Sammy was worried about them, so I feel like I should at least ask about them. “Are they soupy?” Everyone just looked at me blankly. “Or has no one tried theirs yet?”

“Taylor, sweetie, the quiches were offered up while everyone was waiting, not with dinner,” Vero said gently, causing my face to fall. Oh, well then.

“I knew that,” I fibbed, watching as everyone at the table grinned at me. “Okay, so I didn’t know that.”

“Is it some sort of Indiana tradition to inquire about people’s quiches at dinner?” Pascal asked, looking pretty amused. My cheeks flushed pink, and I tried to hide my face.

“Nah, if it was an Indiana tradition, they’d be inquiring about your corn.”

And Tyler had to get a joke in there, the curly headed bastard.

“You guys are assholes,” I chuckled. At least I’m seated at a table with people I like. If I was stuck in Raychel’s position, I think I would have resorted to gouging people’s eyes out with a butter knife.

“I think the quiche were fine,” Sarah finally spoke, putting me out of my misery. I smiled gratefully.

“Okay, good.”

“What did you think of them? Did you find them soupy?” Vero asked, presumably trying to keep the conversation going.

“Oh I don’t know,” I snorted. “I still don’t know what the hell a quiche is. Sammy was just yelling about them being soupy earlier.”

The whole table erupted into laughter then, and for a moment, I forgot where I was. It didn’t occur to me that I was at Max’s engagement party. That Susan was glaring at our table from her perch a couple of tables over. I didn’t even remember that I had been drinking to keep myself from getting to upset, not even when Kris refilled my wine glass for me. I was just happy, with friends, enjoying a dinner that was most certainly not quiche.

And then… Max interrupted it all.

“Can I have everyone’s attention for a moment?” he yelled, clanking is spoon against his glass. After a few seconds, everyone’s conversations ceased, and they all turned their attention to the grinning man at the head of the room. “First of all, I’d like to thank you all for coming. It means a lot to Samantha and I,” he began, smiling lovingly at the blonde by his side. “I know that this engagement took a lot of people by surprise, my friends and family included. We’re very glad to know that even if you are surprised, that you all stand by us and support us in our decision.”

Alright, this is making me feel more than a little guilty. Goddammit Max.

“I’d also like to say, that even though Sam and I haven’t been together, or even known each other, for a very long time, we’re very much in love. She makes me happier than I have ever been, and I’ll be eternally grateful to her for that.”

Well, that felt like a kick in the gut. I took a sip of my wine, trying to avoid looking at anyone, even though I could feel eyes on me.

“I’ve never been this in love with anyone. It’s like a breath of fresh air. You can ask any of my friends, they never thought I would settle down this soon,” he chuckled. I felt the need to toast to that. I don’t think anyone thought that he would settle down this soon, if ever. “But, I finally found the one. I may have had my wilder days when I was younger, but I can honestly say that I am head over heels in love with Samantha Bryans. I’m completely and totally devoted to her. Hell, she’s the first girl I’ve ever been totally faithful to, and have every intention of remaining so!”

The rest of his speech became a blur to me, because at that moment, my world crashed around me. The first girl he’d been faithful to? But what about me? Had he… Had Max cheated on me? He’d always told me he loved me, and he would never hurt me… but he cheated on me?

My glass fell from my hand, crashing to the table and spilling the wine on my dress.

“Fuck,” I whispered, grabbing my napkin and trying to dab at it while everyone at the table looked at me with concern. I couldn’t meet their stares. I just couldn’t. I was trying so hard not to cry, but I knew that one sympathetic look from any of them, and I would crack.

“Ducky…”

“I need to go clean my dress,” I cut Sarah off; quickly pushing my seat back and darting off to the women’s restroom. I tried to make my exit as quiet as possible since Max was still in the middle of his speech, but nearly running in heels isn’t a very quiet activity.

Only a few seconds behind me, I could hear another set of heels clicking. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who it was. It was only when I had finally reached the bathroom that I allowed the first tear to fall from my eye.

“Taylor,” Raychel sighed as the bathroom door closed. I leant against the wall and choked out a sob, trying my hardest not to make too much noise. I didn’t want anyone else to come in here and see me like this. I didn’t want them to ask questions. “Let’s get your dress cleaned up.”

I nodded, following her over to a sink where she began dipping the napkin that I had carried in with me under cold water. I watched her blot at the material of my dress before a moment before I finally worked up the courage to speak.

“He cheated on me,” I croaked, feeling my heart break even more as I spoke the words. Raychel stopped moving for a moment, then nodded and carried on with what she was doing.

“I know, I heard,” she spoke quietly, rinsing the napkin and ringing it out before beginning to blot again.

“Did you know… before?” I asked, my voice now nasally from the drainage that my crying was creating. Lovely, I sounded like a blubbering idiot. She gave me a pointed look, and then shook her head.

“Of course I didn’t Taylor. I would have told you if I had, you know that.”

I thought about her words, they made sense. Raychel never would have hidden that from me. Sure, it would have broken my heart, but she knew I would have wanted to know. I sniffed and wiped under my eyes, trying to catch any running mascara. “I wonder how many people did know.”

“I wouldn’t say very many,” she remarked, setting the napkin down and looking over her work. “Everyone out there looked pretty damn shocked when he said that. I don’t think he thought over what he was saying very much.”

“Max never does,” I shrugged, looking at her in alarm when we heard the door open. Please don’t be Sammy, please don’t be Sammy. I wouldn’t be able to handle it if it was Sammy. I couldn’t explain this to her. There was no way.

“Raychel? Taylor?”

I let out the breath I had been holding, thankful that it hadn’t been Sam that had come to check on us. Granted, I wasn’t happy that anyone had, but I’d much rather it be Kris than most people. Raychel waved at him after he poked his head in, and only then did he enter fully. The moment his eyes came to rest on me, his face fell.

“Jolie,” he sighed sadly, taking three large steps over to me. Suddenly the bathroom felt much smaller than it had before. It’s funny how much more room a man takes up than a woman.

My lip trembled as his eyes raked over me, taking in my distraught appearance. I looked like a mess, I knew it. My makeup was probably running, my hair was undoubtedly sticking up everywhere now, but that didn’t matter. What mattered to me was that he saw how upset Max could make me without even realizing it. Kris seems to have made it a habit of always seeing me at my worst, and I really wished he would stop it.

“Taylor,” he said softly, tucking a finger under my chin and lifting my face to his. “He never deserved you.”