Page 61

The sadness on his face gives way to confusion. “Lilian?”
“Yeah. She...” I try to come up with something halfway believable. Anything. My mind spits out a blank. Shit, I really need to get going. “I’ll explain everything later, I promise. But please, Nathan. Just make sure she’s okay.” Wow, that’s the closest thing to the truth I’ve told him all day.
Nathan’s mouth opens and closes, but no words come out. Finally, he shrugs and says, “Okay. Yeah, I’ll look after her.”
“Thank you.”
I harden everything inside me and force myself to turn and walk away. Walking away is simple; it’s just a matter of putting one foot in front of the other. But I might as well be walking underwater. Somehow, I manage to make my way out of Christ Church College and onto the street, where passersby openly stare at me. I guess a bride walking around on her own isn’t something people see every day. Ignoring them, I flag down a cab—thank god they’re everywhere in Oxford—and the driver helps push my giant skirt through.
“It’s not often I get a bride in my cab,” he says as we drive up St. Aldates Street.
I give him a weak smile. I’m giving a lot of them today.
My phone rings again. This time, it’s Seb.
“Hey, just to update you: we’re on our way back to Christ Church. Um, your family kind of kicked us out of the room. Not that I’m complaining or anything. I mean, it was kind of rude, but—ow, hey!”
“Hey, it’s me,” Selena says. In the background, I can hear Seb complaining. “So we dropped your family off at their room, and we were kind of hanging around to see if they needed any more help, but then they just started shouting at us to go, so. Yeah...”
By now, my stomach is just a leaden ball of dread. “I’m so sorry. Thank you so much for doing that.”
“Yeah, of course. No worries. We’ll see you back at Christ Church.”
“About that,” I say. “Um, I’m sort of on my way to the Randolph. But it’s fine, you guys go back to the college. I’ll be back in a bit.”
My breath comes out in a long, endless whoosh once I hang up. What could possibly have caused Ma and the aunties to kick Seb and Selena out of the room like that? Whatever it is, it’s nothing good.
By the time I get to the Randolph, all of my nerves are screaming. The driver takes one look at my frazzled expression and tells me, with obvious pity, that I don’t owe him anything. I thank him and rush inside.
People look up and eyes follow me as I walk briskly across the lobby and run up the stairs—no way I’d fit inside the small elevator. I try to look as normal as I can, which isn’t very, especially not in my huge white dress, but I do my best anyway.
By the time I get to the right floor, I’m out of breath. As far as wedding dresses go, mine is very forgiving and comfortable,but it’s really not made for a panicked rush up four flights of stairs. I clamber up the final flight practically on my hands and knees, and stagger to Ma’s room. I knock on the door. Noises from inside the room are quickly cut off.
“Ma? It’s”—gasp—“it’s me.” Gasp. “Meddy.”
There’s a flurry of noise and the door opens. A hand shoots out, grabs me by the wrist, and yanks me inside. I come face-to-face with Fourth Aunt, who kicks the door shut and then pulls me along like I’m some naughty kid.
“Ouch, Fourth Aunt, you’re hurting me. Ow, what’s going on?”
She stops abruptly and whirls around so our faces are literally inches away from each other. “You need to tell us if this is real or if this is a dream, or if this is, like, the Matrix.”
“The Matrix? Huh?”
She sighs impatiently. “Keanu Reeves? Weird simulation?”
“I know what the Matrix is, Fourth Aunt. I just don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Keanu Reeves.” The frown melts from her face and she stares off into the distance. “He’s hot. Did you know he’s in his fifties? I would totally poke that.”
Okay, I’ve lost her. I try to walk around her, but it’s impossible to do so when I’m in my gown and we’re still standing in the narrow passageway between the door and the room.
“Um, can I go inside?”
“Oh yes. But can we not with your usual ‘Oh my god this is terrible’ reaction?”
The clump of panic that’s been brewing in my gut threatens to bubble over. “I only do that when things are actually terrible. Are they actually terrible this time?”
“Oh, Meddy,” Fourth Aunt sighs, shaking her head at me. “I see you’re going to insist on being your melodramatic self.”