Page 12

Twelve

Join us for a

Bridal Shower

in honor of

Catherine Gallant

Saturday, June 16th at noon

1989 Archer Way

Ardmore, PA 19003

rsvp to [email protected]

registered at theknot.com/allinwithaustin

I stared at the invitation while Nana drove.

It was beautiful, the card stock thick and cream-colored with a light blue watercolor bow, white hydrangeas springing from the bow’s ribbon.

The gold script underneath looked effortless.

“I never knew she spelled Catherine with a C ,” I remarked.

“I always thought it was with a K .”

“I didn’t either,” Nana replied as she flipped her blinker and merged into the right lane.

“It’s very Kate Middleton of her.”

I laughed when she reached over and ruffled my hair.

Ever the stylist, Nana had given me a “Kate Middleton” blowout.

In a surprising turn of events, today’s bridal shower was not being held at the álvarez family’s Two Fish, but at Katie’s aunt’s house.

Austin had given me all the tea.

“Yeah, according to Kates, Aunt Celeste really wanted to give Katie a shower,” he’d said during our camping trip.

Every summer, we “camped” in our Christmas tree farm for a weekend.

Tent, sleeping bags, lanterns, campfire—the whole enchilada.

“She wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Mmm,” had been my diplomatic reaction.

It was clear that Mrs. Gallant, as kind and caring as she was, was type A and wanted to be in control.

Everything needed to be perfect.

Katie’s aunt Celeste—otherwise known as “Cousin Paige’s mom”—lived in Ardmore, a cute town on Philadelphia’s Main Line.

“Didn’t you play in several tournaments around here?” Nana asked once we’d exited the highway and slowed to a stop at a red light.

“Yes,” I answered. “I did a couple camps, too.”

She glanced over and smiled at me.

“I’m so happy everything is finally settled. And I’m so, so proud of you, honey.”

I grinned back.

Three weeks ago, I’d officially committed to Penn for field hockey.

My visit there had been the complete opposite of my Princeton visit.

Unlike awful Shelly, the freshman midfielder they’d paired me with barely let me out of her sight.

The team organized a throwback murder mystery dinner instead of taking me to a wild party, and Coach Hart let me play in their scrimmage instead of watching from the bleachers.

Not only was there serious chemistry on the field, but I felt like I’d fit in off the field, too.

Almost every player had hugged me goodbye and given me their phone number.

Honestly, it felt like gigantic knot had untangled itself in my chest.

Out of nowhere, I thought about Marco.

Congratulations! he’d texted after the news hit social media (i.e.

, after Da wrote the ultimate proud-parent post on Instagram), but I hadn’t responded for a couple days.

I wasn’t mad at him, but I also wasn’t happy with him, either.

I guess I was just pissed.

We hadn’t seen each other since he’d walked me to the Gallants’ house, only making it halfway before Katie’s dad found us in his car.

Our goodbye had been super awkward.

He’d gone in for a hug while I stepped away and gave him a half wave.

Thanks , I’d messaged back, and after he sent a long apology on Shelly’s behalf (I doubted she had any clue he’d written it), I thought, Fuck it , and wrote: Get out of that situationship, Marco.

She’s the worst.

He had yet to respond.

Nana turned onto a leafy green tree-lined street, and we pulled into the driveway whose mailbox had white and gold balloons tied to it.

“Here we are!” my grandmother said cheerfully once we’d parked near a long row of cars.

“Grab the gifts!”

The gifts, neither of which were on Austin and Katie’s registry, were quintessential Nana gifts.

She had gotten them a complete set of Barefoot Contessa cookbooks—“Ina’s recipes will never go out of style”—and I’d dragged Connor to Anthropologie the other day to help me pick out a cute pair of oversized mugs.

One with an A and another with a K (or maybe I should’ve gotten a C ?).

In any case, they were more of a rib against Austin than anything else.

He always complained about how many mugs Katie owned.

“We don’t have enough storage space for an entire mug cabinet, yet we somehow have an entire mug cabinet.”

Aunt Celeste’s house was pretty; Dad would describe it as a stately 1911 Georgian Revival adorned with brick and huge white multipaned windows.

Big pots of flowers and herbs sat on the front stoop, and dried lavender wreaths hung on the front double doors.

Despite the chorus of voices inside, I rang the doorbell.

Nana pretended to cough, and when I looked at her, she pointed to a chalkboard that had been propped up on the stoop’s rocking chair.

Welcome to Katie’s Shower , it read.

Door is open!

Five minutes later, Nana and I introduced ourselves to Katie’s aunt before Mrs. Gallant poached us from her sister and took us on a promenade around the house.

We met everyone from Katie’s grandmother to a few work friends to her childhood babysitter.

Eventually, my fellow bridesmaids and I congregated at a white cloth-covered table on the deck.

The centerpiece was a small vase of blue hydrangeas.

“Mads!” Meredith, her tan glowing and hair sun-streaked from St. Croix, had wrapped me in a huge hug.

“How’s everything? How’s your family? Congratulations on Penn!”

I learned that she and Wit had moved back to the States temporarily.

They were in Boston with friends now but planned to spend the summer on Martha’s Vineyard with her family.

I should get a remote job someday , I thought to myself.

Lunch was delicious.

As the artist in her family, Paige had hand painted a beautiful menu: sweet chili salmon and a tomato, peach, and burrata kale salad, along with brioche rolls and a variety of gourmet quiches, lorraine, mushroom, and caprese.

There also was a mimosa bar.

“Okay, Mads,” Reese said while sipping on her second one.

“We’re all here—”

“Katie isn’t here,” Courtney pointed out through a mouthful of quiche lorraine.

“Court, Katie’s never gonna be here,” Amanda said.

“She’s too busy being showered .”

The table giggled.

Katie had been swirling from circle to circle today, accepting guests’ congratulations and thanking them for coming.

She was also showing off the glacier-sized engagement ring Austin had bought her.

I thought I’d be used to it by now, but I wasn’t.

It just looked wrong .

“True,” Reese agreed with the maid of honor.

“All of us who can be here are here, so as I was saying…” She gave me a look.

“How was the date, Mads?”

“Yes!” Yasmin said.

“How’d it go?”

Amanda playfully wiggled her eyebrows.

Even though my most recent admirer had been her suggestion, she promised she’d do no digging on how the date had gone.

Based on her excitement level, I knew she’d kept her word.

I inwardly groaned, knowing I had to share—or finally share.

The most recent installment of Ready-Set-Date had been a couple weeks ago, and all the bridesmaids had texted me the next morning asking how it went.

I hadn’t wanted to relive it, so I said I’d tell them at Katie’s shower.

And surprise! Now here we were!

My opening line was tantalizing.

“I saw Davis there with his girlfriend.”

Reese rolled her eyes as the others booed.

“He got back with Natalie?”

I nodded.

“She seems cool. She apologized to me for being such a bitch that night. She was already regretting the breakup, and seeing me with Davis made her really regret it. She said she could’ve handled it way better.” I shrugged.

“I’m going to go with them to a concert this summer.”

“That’s great, Mads,” Paige said.

“But this has nothing to do with your date.”

“Yes, it does,” I lightly countered.

“They were at the ice rink, too.”

“Oh, cute!” Meredith exclaimed.

“You guys went ice skating?”

“We did,” I said.

“I wouldn’t categorize it as cute , though.”

Brows furrowed, heads cocked, and noses wrinkled.

“Why not?” Courtney asked.

“Because,” I didn’t mean to sputter but totally did, “the guy has an evil twin!”

And then I rewound the tape back to May.

***

“Who are you going with again?” Da asked as I dug through the mudroom parson’s bench for my ice skates.

Their blades were dull from the winter, so I planned to arrive at the rink early to get them sharpened.

“Connor?”

I shook my head.

Connor actually had asked if he could come with me.

He had been less than impressed by Davis and didn’t like the idea of me not having a wingman today.

“Come on, we can make it a double date,” he’d said.

“I’ll text…”

No , I’d thought, feeling a little ache.

No, thanks.

I was torn with Connor.

If he was in the picture, I knew I’d wish our dates would disappear—only wanting it to be the two of us.

The idea of seeing Connor on a date made me nauseous.

But ever since Samira had planted the seed for a true crush on him, I’d still tried to discourage it from growing.

Friends-to-lovers didn’t always end in a happily ever after.

Connor and I could be perfect for each other, but what if we weren’t?

What happened then?

“No,” I told my dads.

“It’s someone from Princeton.”

“Town or school?” Dad inquired, because at the moment, no one was a fan of the latter; I’d told them all about what had happened during my visit, right down to spending the night at Hotel Gallant instead of Forbes College.

I’d burst into tears when I’d walked into the kitchen and saw Katie’s mom pulling a sheet of warm chocolate chip cookies out of the oven.

She wore a ruffled apron over her pajamas.

“Do you want a glass of milk, Mads?”

Now, I felt my stomach spin.

“School.”

My parents gave me a joint Are you for real, Madeline?

look.

“Amanda knows him, though,” I said calmly.

“She tutored his older sister in algebra, but Chad’s a genius and my age. He skipped a couple grades.”

“But his name’s Chad ,” Dad deadpanned.

I tried not to giggle.

Da hummed. “Does Marco know him?”

“What does it matter?” I asked, feeling myself flush.

“We know Marco isn’t the greatest judge of character.”

Yes, I’d even told them about Marco and Shelly.

“Tell us you at least know this kid’s last name,” Dad said.

I shook my head. “I’ll find out as soon as we shake hands.”

I’d texted the Princetonians to see if they knew a Chad, but the results had been negative.

Each Chad they knew was an athlete, and I somehow knew this guy wasn’t one.

“Oh, no, don’t shake his hand,” Da said.

“If this is a date, go in for a hug.”

“Da, you know I’m not a hello hugger.” I folded my arms over my chest for emphasis.

“You gotta earn it.”

My parents both laughed, and once I found my skates, I hugged them goodbye and drove off in the Defender.

Amanda had given me Chad’s number, and I’d suggested we go ice skating rather than grab dinner.

If skating went well, perhaps there was “dinner potential” afterward, but I didn’t want to be committed to at least two hours of small talk if things immediately took a nosedive.

Plus, a heat wave hit us this week.

I wanted to cool off somewhere.

I’d run into Davis and Natalie in Ice Land’s pro shop, while my skates were being sharpened.

She was browsing the rack of hockey sticks, Davis meandering behind her.

“Do you play hockey?” was my greetingless greeting.

Natalie looked up and over at me, and her eyes widened before her shoulders curved in from embarrassment.

“Yeah,” she said. “I do.”

“That’s awesome!” I smiled.

Because I didn’t care anymore.

I really, really didn’t.

“I’d try ice hockey in another life.”

Natalie smiled back a little.

“I played field hockey freshman year, but only lasted a season.” She dropped her voice.

“I really hate running.”

I laughed, and without a word, Davis knew to walk away, and by the time he returned, Natalie had apologized and we were talking about music.

Phoebe Bridgers, specifically.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked politely.

“Yeah.” She turned back to me.

“We’ll talk details later?”

“Definitely.” I nodded, and after we exchanged numbers, she unexpectedly hugged me.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“I thought you were cool the moment we met, but Davis…”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said, breaking out of the hug.

“I totally get it.”

Because, hey, I did.

Skates freshly sharpened, I sat in one of the snack bar’s booths to wait for Chad.

I’d unlocked my phone and opened my dead-end conversation with Marco, tempted to text him.

According to a field hockey teammate, I should never “double-text” a guy, but I wasn’t interested in Marco; he was just a friend—or, a pseudofriend.

Hey, I’m sorry , I typed.

I was way out of line.

If you like Shelly —

“Madeline?”

I looked up from my phone and felt invisible insects skitter and scatter all over my skin before my heart began to hammer.

Penn State , I thought, mind flashing back to State Night at Tiger Inn.

The guy in the PENN STATE shirt who wouldn’t let me leave that basement until I’d pepper sprayed the shit out of him.

Here he was, right in front of me.

Blond hair, brown eyes, dimpled smile.

“Get away.” It took a hell of a lot to keep my voice level.

“Get away from me.”

Penn State furrowed his brow, as if confused.

“What?”

“You heard me,” I said, suddenly feeling trapped in my booth.

“ Away .” I raised one of my skates, as if to threaten him.

“Okay…” he said slowly.

“I really don’t know what’s going on here.”

Liar , I thought.

He remembers my name, so he remembers what he did.

“Two words,” I still reminded him.

“ Pepper spray .”

Penn State backed off, taking several giant steps away from me.

I seized the opportunity to scramble out of the booth and toward the rink’s automatic doors.

“Wait, where are you going?” he called after me.

“I don’t understand!”

I stopped for a second.

“We didn’t have much fun the first time around, Derek ,” I told him dryly.

“Which means I highly doubt today—”

“Derek?” The guy cocked his head.

“You think I’m Derek?”

Now I was the one confused.

“Well, aren’t you?”

“No.” He shook his head.

“No, no, no. I’m Chad. Derek is my brother.”

Brother?

I didn’t believe him.

I might’ve asked to see his driver’s license.

Whelan, Chadwick , it read, along with a birth year the same as mine.

“You look like identical twins,” I said weakly when returning his ID.

My heart rate had slowed down, almost back to normal.

But not quite.

“Yeah, we get that a lot,” Chad muttered, then cleared his throat.

“How, uh, do you know Derek?”

I told him.

And, somewhat surprisingly, Chad did not apologize for his brother.

“I’m nothing like Derek,” he said instead.

“I promise .” He shifted from one foot to the other, and it was then that I noticed he wasn’t as tall as Derek and wasn’t carrying any beer weight.

“And I’ve been really looking forward to this.” He half smiled, dimples appearing—my pulse spiked, wishing they weren’t so eerily like his brother’s—as he gestured to the rink.

“Do you still want to skate?”

I took a breath, then nodded.

“Sure,” I said. “Let’s do it.”

But all I could think while tying my skates was: Why didn’t I bring Connor?

***

“Is there going to be a second date?” Yasmin asked after I finished speaking.

“It sounds like it went well overall!”

“No,” Courtney, the therapist, said firmly at the same time Meredith, who clearly had impressive intuition, went, “Are you kidding, Yaz?”

Yasmin shrugged.

“What? It seems like they had a good time after getting over the whole Douchebag Derek thing.”

“ Chad had a nice time,” I said, my quiche now cold.

“But I only pretended to; I didn’t— couldn’t —get over the connection.” I chewed and swallowed a bite.

“I knew he wanted to hold my hand, but I kept outmaneuvering him. They look so much alike— too much alike. I can’t…” I trailed off, uncomfortable all over again.

“I just can’t.”

Courtney nodded as Meredith squeezed my shoulder in support.

Even though I thought it’d been beyond obvious I hadn’t wanted to hold Chad’s hand, he kept up our lighthearted conversation and had asked me to dinner after the free skate ended.

But I’d declined, and he guessed why.

It had put me on edge even letting him hug me goodbye.

“I’m sorry, Mads,” Amanda said.

“Katie mentioned you visiting Princeton, but all she said was it wasn’t the right fit. I didn’t know about that guy.”

“This isn’t the end of the world,” Reese said after a few beats.

“For your next date, I think you should pick an app—Bumble, maybe—and set up a profile. What do you think?”

“I think we should stop playing this stupid game,” I muttered, and when all the bridesmaids blinked at me, I added, “It hasn’t worked and hasn’t been that fun.”

Reese arched an eyebrow.

“Oh, really?”

“Reese,” Meredith warned.

“Don’t.”

The bridesmaid ignored her.

“Well, I hate to break it to you, Mads, but that’s what dating’s like. You’ve only been on two dates! Of course it hasn’t worked . I sometimes go on three dates a week, and still, nothing has truly stuck or been particularly fun. It’s not”—she made air quotes—“ magic like every garbage Bachelor Nation show makes it out to be.”

Amanda grimaced in agreement.

My cheeks flamed. “I know that,” I fired back.

“Those shows are beyond overproduced, and the couples almost always break up once the bubble breaks. I get it.” I glanced around for the bride, of all people, but Katie was eternally lost to the shower guests.

“I guess I thought you’d all be more like Chris Harrison—yes, I know he no longer hosts the show—and support me.” I shrugged.

“I feel alone. You set me up with these guys and then I feel alone.”

“That’s how you feel while dating,” Reese said matter-of-factly.

Courtney sighed. “Reese, I know I’m not your therapist, but maybe we should talk about your romantic life…”

“Mads, you could’ve texted us after Douchebag Derek,” Meredith said.

“Or FaceTimed after skating with Chad. You didn’t need to wait until today to share.” She offered me a smile.

“We really are here for you.”

But I don’t want to talk to you about it , I thought, as kind as Meredith and the others (except for Reese right now) were.

“Yeah,” Yasmin echoed.

“If you want us to be Chris Harrison, all you need to do is ask.”

I was silent for several moments, then rose from my chair.

I wanted to find Nana.

“I have a busy summer,” I said.

“Can we postpone the setups until further notice?”

“Of course,” Amanda said before the others could.

“I take dating breaks all the time. It’s healthy. Let us know when you’re ready again.”

“Or if you’re ready again,” Meredith amended.

“There’s no pressure, Mads.” She pushed back her chair too, a signal that she was going to mingle.

“And despite what Ice Queen Reese says,” she said when we were far enough away from the bridesmaids, “this is meant to be fun.”

The corners of my eyes prickled.

“I want a boyfriend,” I said, because after seeing how happy Katie (somehow) made Austin, getting a glimpse of Meredith and Wit’s relationship, and running into Davis and Natalie, I realized I did.

I wanted that someone that I could share endless inside jokes with and hug after a long day.

Someone that would love me even when I was fired up and hangry.

“But I don’t know how to find one,” I told Meredith.

“I can talk to guys”—I thought of Connor—“but I can’t talk to guys.”

Meredith smiled faintly.

“Katie used to say that all the time in college. People would hit on her whenever we went out, but she said her brain would short-circuit and she couldn’t ever generate a snappy response.” She laughed.

“She once begged me to teach her how to flirt, but it turned out I didn’t need to. When she met Austin, she knew exactly what to say.” She squeezed my arm.

“You’ll know what to say when you meet the right person, whether through one of these blind dates or a chance encounter. Who knows…?” She gave me a look.

“You might have already met him.” A pause, then a slight smile.

“You might have met him a long time ago.”

After she walked away, I felt a pang of longing for Halloween candy.

I closed my eyes and saw Connor trying to shove an entire Snickers bar into his mouth.

Is Meredith right? I wondered.

Have I already met him?