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"And it's really frustrating," Blakely adds. "Because we have paid so much money for this, and we have had so many people who RSVPed cancel on us at the very last minute. The wedding is in less than two weeks, and it's happened three times this week. I'm terrified every time I pick up the phone. Two of my friends canceled on the Vegas trip this weekend for my bachelorette, too."

"Well, I thought you were going to ask Teagan to go," my mom says.

"Oh yeah," Blakely says, her tone awkward. "I did…didn't I text you?"

I shrug and shake my head. "No. I don't think so."

"Well, you should come," Blakely says. "For sure, you should come. I want you to."

"Yeah, okay," I say, even though I know she doesn't mean it. "I'll go. I'm going to get another drink. Do you want one?"

"Sure," Sebastian says. "Actually, do you mind showing me where the bathroom is?"

I nod, and we both get up from the table.

"Oh, Teagan?" my mom calls after me.

"Yeah?"

"There's a blackberry cheesecake in the fridge. Do you mind grabbing that and bringing it out for us?"

"Sure," I tell her. "No problem."

"I still can't believe this is where you came from," Sebastian says after closing the door behind us. "I don't really need you to show me where the bathroom is; I already know."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, I know you do."

I enter the kitchen alone, pulling two more beers from the fridge and popping the tops before taking out the cheesecake.

"Hey," Blake says. "I thought I'd come and help you get these on plates—I don't want the whole thing to melt outside."

"Yeah, that's not a bad idea," I say. I pull a chef's knife from the block and start cutting it while she takes plates and lays them out across the counter.

"Where'd you meet that guy?" she asks. "Mom said you met him before you disappeared, but you were dating Hunter…for months until the day you left."

"We weren't exclusive," I tell her.

"I see," she says. "Well, he seems really nice. He's seen your…chest?"

"Yeah, Blakely, he's seen me naked."

"Right…sorry."

She grabs a spatula and starts scooping slices of cheesecake onto the plates.

"You could bring him to the wedding if you want," she tells me. "We have space now."

"It's not that serious."

"It's too bad he's not a plastic surgeon," she says. "Maybe he could fix you."

"No one can fix me."

"What are you talking about? I bet he knows someone. I mean, you can't be comfortable wearing that dirty hoodie when it's ninety degrees out."

She laughs, and it sets me on edge. I tighten my grip on the knife. Tears well in my eyes as I realize it's taking everything inme not to bury it in my sister's back right now. I need to drop it. I need to drop it and back the fuck out of the room, but I can't.

"Or wait…" she starts. "Is he into it? The blood stuff? I mean, that'd be—"