One Year Stand

It was Sherry's perfect wedding. We were in the Eliza Wedding Restaurant, which specialized in completely nondenominational wedding reception and ceremonies. Guests sat at long tables on either side of the aisle, nibbling appetizers as they waited for Sherry and Jeff's glorious entrance. A slideshow of Sherry and Jeff's baby to adulthood pictures was shown on a large screen in the front.

Then the music started. First came Eric's son John with Jeff's niece, both 4 years old. They were cutely mismatched, as Jeff's nephew was a head shorter than Pete's daughter. Both completely forgot that they were holding flower petals, and tripped their way up the aisle where they then promptly remembered they had flower petals, and dumped them at the head of the aisle.

Jeff then came down with his mother, followed by Jeff's sister and her husband.

Then came my cue. I hesitated.

"I'm going to push you, and you're going to stumble and fall in front of everyone, if you don't move your little butt." Eric said in a singsong voice to my right.

I grumbled a little and walked with him down the aisle. Eric also happened to be Jeff's best man, so I didn't even get to have the chance to touch a potential bedmate. It became increasingly likely that I'd spend the night as a cucumber outcast.

When we reached the front, we turned and I gave Eric a small pinch before he left. I think the camera caught his pained expression. Sweet revenge.

Then Sherry appeared. Immediately, I felt my throat close up, and tears spring up in my eyes. Since I cry at the weddings of relatives who I have never met, at my own sister's wedding, the waterworks were turned on full force instantly making my face into a replica of a puffer fish. Not that it matters much because the cucumber dress had dealt with all chances of meeting anyone.

After the ceremony, Sherry came to sit at the table for the dinner. I smiled weakly with red rimmed eyes. "You're married!"

She beamed, then killed the happy moment, "I probably didn't need to give you the dress. Your post-crying face is enough to stop them."

I was about to come up with an immature retort, but then the food arrived and I forgot all about it.

Of course the main meal was great but then...the dessert came. This is what I had starved all yesterday for. Not only was there bubble tea, but cake, pudding, cookies, and every other food that I love. I looked over at Sherry and she laughed. "You look like a kid at Christmas. Just make sure Bubbles isn't too happy."

I called my little belly fat Bubbles, because most of the fat comes from my daily bubble tea. I've promised myself to get rid of Bubbles, but I guess we just have this love-hate, on and off relationship. I can get rid of him for a few days, but I just can't keep him away.

Then it came time for the touring of the tables, to thank close friends and family and obscure relatives and strangers for coming to the wedding and depositing some cash. I was forced into coming, being the maid of honor, but I hid behind Sherry's voluminous dress, drinking a little too much champagne.

"Is that you Jess?" An obnoxious voice floated over at one of the tables.

It was Ethan, Jeff's 21 year old cousin. He's a strong believer in partying, womanizing, and breaking hearts. My nemesis.

"What, did you get a zit or something? Its ok we would be looking below your head anyway." He snickered. His cavemen buddies catcalled and slapped him on the back, then compared club sizes and pounded their chests.

"No, I'm hiding because I'm afraid of seeing your ugly face." Bad comeback. But I was too mortified to think.

"Oooh I'm so hurt. Unfortunately, I have about 37 sworn testimonies of my hotness, so my confidence isn't about to get blown. Come on out and meet my friends." More back slapping and armpit scratching.

Then a familiar voice spoke, "Awww, leave her alone." A kind man. Sexy voice too. Bedmate potential. "She's probably just fat." Not so kind, but still sexy. Now where was it that I got these same fuzzies from that voice?

Sherry and Jeff were snickering in front of me. Thanks for the help, sis. I wouldn't stand for hiding and being insulted, so I stepped out in full cucumber glory to rant and rave at Ethan's little cohorts.

"All you little boys need to grow up and get laid, and I am not-" I cut off as I saw Ethan's "little" cohorts more clearly.

Ethan was actually the youngest at the table, and with him were the some of the most delicious men at the wedding.

Delicious men who were now falling over in laughter.

"Uh, Jess, you do realize that your dress...looks a lot like a cucumber?" Ethan was quite the intelligent guy.

"Oh really now, does it." I lunged to get the wine bottle in Sherry's hand to smack him with, but Sherry knew me, and held the bottle up high. With all the maturity I could muster, I jumped for the bottle, "Stop being such a butt, Sherry. I won't hurt Ethan that much. Maybe just a concussion or two." Hop, hop, wheeze. Curse you unfair gene distribution.

"Well she's actually quite a cute hopping cucumber bridesmaid. I guess we should be thankful the wedding boutique was locked." Sexy voice idly remarked. I froze. I definitely recognized that voice.

Sherry prodded me with the wine bottle, "You usually don't give up this easily. Are you getting old? And what is this about the wedding boutique?"

I felt my face burn up, and I bolted. Behind me, I heard Sherry remark, "I guess all the hopping made her pee a little or something."

I rushed into the bathroom and locked myself in a stall. Ok, let's think this over.

Damn I didn't get to see his face.

But I mean, why should I care? He's just a guy...with the most amazing voice...

Grow up, you're wearing the ugliest dress ever sewn, and you're thinking of picking up a guy?

Should I go out and talk to him? Not after that scene. But what about the one night stand?

Screw the one night stand. My dignity's at risk here. I considered routes of escape. The door was out of question, they positioned the bathroom on the opposite end of the hall.

Windows? No they had screens on them, and undoubtedly, someone would notice a cucumber climbing out the windows.

Wait, there was an open window in the smoking room. And no one's going to be smoking while they're eating.

I clambered off the toilet and used my expert spy moves to open the door a tiny bit, peering out. Coast is clear.

Slinking out of the bathroom, I stayed in the shadows and remained glued to the wall except when I stole a little cake from the cake table, and edged slowly to the smoking room. Success!

Beaming to myself, I was about to open the door when, "You'd make a horrible spy." Cue the warm fuzzies.

I spun around and was hit by the most amazing, dark, black eyes. I clutched at the wall for support as my knees went weak.

"I...I...was getting a drink." I blabbered. "Not escaping."

"Well just your luck, there comes a drink cart." He lifted a strawberry daiquiri off the cart and proffered it to me, somehow still managing to look manly holding a fruity drink with a flowery pink umbrella.

Carefully avoiding his fingers, who knew what disasters could come of touching him, I grabbed the drink and took a large sip and smiled at him. Then, instant pain. Ugh...brain freeze.

As I clutched my head in pain, he, as the epitome of a gentleman, leaned back with a smirk, enjoying my pain.

"Ugh. So. I'll be off now." I tottered and grabbed for the door handle to the smoking room.

A hand wrapped around mine, and it took every ounce of my unfrozen brain to keep my knees locked. I looked up somewhat dazedly at the dark eyes.

"You smoke?"

I shook my head.

"Then...are you inviting me into a room alone with you?"

This one I had to think about. I shook my head. Of course I wanted to, but...yum...his hand was on my hand. It was warm. He had a sexy voice. His eyes were staring into mine. What was the question?

"So I think I'm correct in assuming that you're going to escape through the window in there even though we're on the fourth floor."

Fuzzies stopped my neurons from connecting and all I could manage was a nod to whatever he had asked.

"Go ahead then."

I nodded. He stared at me. Why was he staring? The fog cleared up slightly. "What?"

"You were going to escape."

My right eye twitched. I grabbed my hand away from him and my mind cleared. "Yes I am. Now go away."

I walked with dignity into the smoking room, and saw the open window. I looked behind me to see if he followed. No one there. I felt some disappointment actually. I was hoping he'd pull some romantic, "Don't go, my dearest".

I dragged over a chair, and stepped onto it, preparing to put one foot outside, when the door flew open. So he was going to be all romantic. I was kinda disappointed by that too. I thought he'd been a self-confident, manly man.

Yea, I know I'm hard to please.

"What are you doing?" He stared at me with dark amused eyes.

"You said I could! What am I doing wrong?" I was baffled.

He seemed to be startled for a second. Then the amusement in his eyes grew. "Ok, go ahead."

Completely confused, I continued to slip out the window. Did he think I was too fat to fit into the 4 x 4 foot window? Sheesh.

Both legs were out before I sensed a presence to my right. It was him.

"What do you want?" I asked, exasperated.

He put a finger on my bare shoulder, causing little tingles to dance around there. He leaned in close to my ear, "I never figured you were the suicidal type."

"What? I'm not!"

"Then what are you doing now?"

"Getting the hell out of here. Sherry's not going to kill me for leaving or anything."

He chuckled, "Why couldn't you use the door?"

"Because you were outside..." I realized my mistake. Face burning, I blustered, "Whatever. I'm going."

I was fully prepared to drop outside, before a pair of well muscled arms wrapped around me.

"Let me go! What the hell are you doing?" I struggled.

"Look down." I could feel his voice rumble in his chest.

I complied. Heh. What do you know? I was kinda high up. Maybe I should've looked before I jumped.

"It's only 4 floors..."

"I guess I should let go of you then shouldn't I." I quickly scrambled back into the room, out of both the danger of the window and his arms.

"You don't care if I die do you?" I pouted.

"Why should I?"

"Bah. Humbug." I flounced out of the room, as flouncy as a cucumber can be.

I crashed right into Eric, "When did you start smoking? And why did that guy go in there?"

I blew a raspberry and went to get another helping of bubble tea.

Author's note:

Just editing some minor awkwardness and inconsistencies. She's really ditzy isn't she?