I Love To Hate You Contest

Rules (for all OneShots in the ridiculously happy contest series)

-Has to be a OneShot above 2500 words, and below 10,000 words

-Must be Ridiculously Happy (no angst, tragedy, hurt/comfort. Looking for humor, romance, drama, general etc. Happy endings only please)

-Set in the current world (no sci-fi, supernatural, alternate universe, 200 years ago etc)

-Be realistic (give the reader the feeling that your story could actually occur in real life. Just because it says Ridiculously Happy, don't go overboard)

***

In that moment, I hated him more than I had ever hated anyone before. I knew it was more than just petty anger, because every fibre of my being burned with longing to see him dead or just gone. Ever since he had turned up, everything was going wrong. It was just my luck that he had to return months before the biggest day of the lives of my brother and best friend.

***

I got the news when I was sitting in my new apartment, ironically enough contemplating the future. It was a beautiful day outside, matching my mood. I had just moved out of my best friend's apartment, after my older brother— her boyfriend— had moved in. Needless to say, it was an awkward arrangement, and I was glad to get out as soon as I did. This apartment was a godsend.

My phone rang and I picked it up without looking at the caller ID, knowing already the only person it could be.

"Zak!" I heard my best friend squeal, "Guess what?!"

"What?" I asked cautiously, holding the receiver a safe distance away from my ear. What, I wondered, could be more important than my new apartment?

"Davi—"

She was cut off by someone taking the phone. "I was drunk earlier and proposed to Rachel, now she thinks we're getting married, but I have no recollection of the incident..." I heard my brother say. I broke into laughter. It seemed like a bit more than that judging by Rachael's excitement. I heard a loud thwack, and she took back the phone.

"Shut up!" she whined. "It was the sweetest thing; he got down on one knee in front of everyone in the restaurant." I smiled; Rachael always did like public displays of affection.

"David," I addressed my brother, grinning to myself, "Did you get her pregnant?"

"God, you two! You can't take anything seriously!" Rachael huffed. I laughed.

"It must be in the blood," I heard my brother say in the background. "Did you tell my dear sister that she's going to be the maid of honour yet?"

"I was getting to that!" Rachael replied, a little put off at being beaten to it.

"Seriously?" I asked incredulously, "But I wanted to be the best man!"

"Zakia," Rachael reprimanded me with my full name, "Be serious."

"I'm honoured, guys," I said sincerely. I had been waiting for this for a long time. I had only met Rachael four years ago; her crush on my older brother remained unrequited until he finally broke up with his skanky girlfriend Jennifer, and noticed my gorgeous Mediterranean best friend. He proposed to her on their two year anniversary, ever the devoted, romantic boyfriend. They were the perfect cliché, and it was something I could never hope to live up to. Not that I really wanted to. I was perfectly happy being single. To their future children, I would doubtless be the crazy spinster aunt with twelve cats. I shuddered at the thought.

"I'm just looking forward to seeing you in an actual dress for once, Zak," my brother laughed.

"Haha," I deadpanned, "Very funny, dear brother. I'm looking forward to seeing you actually having showered for once. Oh, and wearing a suit."

"Touché," my brother replied.

"When's the big day?"

"Tonight, we're going to Las Vegas and—"

There was a pause in which I assumed my brother was being pummelled into the ground. The smashing noises gave some indication. Rachael loved him really, though I was slightly worried about domestic violence on her part.

"Three months' time," Rachael replied, a little breathlessly. I laughed as my brother groaned in pain.

"Great, I expect nieces and nephews in a year then," I grinned. I imagined Rachael blushing, despite her olive complexion.

"Don't worry, Zak, we'll be popping them out in no time," David laughed. That earned him another beating.

The next day I drove over to their apartment to see whether the relationship had crumbled yet. Not really, I just wanted to check (after all the wrong things he must've said) that David was still alive. You couldn't have a wedding with a hospitalised groom.

"David? Rachael?" I yelled, when nobody answered the door. I heard footsteps, and then Rachael opened the door, clad in nothing but a sheet. I raised one eyebrow. I had seen this many times before when I was living with them. They hadn't even the decency to get dressed before leaving the confines of their (thankfully soundproofed) room. "Maybe I should come back later..."

"No, no!" Rachael said, ushering me in. I saw my brother walking around in boxers and shielded my eyes.

"I'm blind!" I said dramatically. He grinned at me.

"Nothing you haven't seen before, Zak," David chuckled.

"Yeah, when I was four and you were five," I snorted. "Are you sure you don't want me to leave?"

"Yes," Rachael said breathlessly, "My brother is coming in half an hour."

"Oh," I said, remembering the absent twin brother whom Rachael hadn't seen in five years, since he moved to New York to become a hot-shot reporter. Some loving brother he was. I certainly hadn't heard much of him, Rachael never really talked about him, but she had always assured me they were close as, well, twins. I frowned. So he was showing up now of all times, just before her big day, like some sort of wedding crasher. Something seemed... fishy. "What's his name? Michael?"

"Yes, and I need to sort the place out!" she said frantically, her brown eyes wide, with dark circles underneath from lack of sleep. Well, I knew why that was. And it was entirely her own fault.

"Go get dressed first, I'll tidy up here," I sighed. After successfully disposing of all the rubbish around the apartment (mostly courtesy of my dear brother, as Rachael was usually a tidy person), the doorbell rang. Right on cue. "Go get dressed!" I yelled to David, who was still in his boxers, leisurely eating cereal. If this future brother-in-law was going to like him he at least had to be presentable.

I made my way to the door, hoping that this guy wouldn't be as stuck up as the rest of Rachael's family, whom I had met on the odd special occasion. I told myself not to make assumptions. He was probably just as sweet and kind as Rachael; after all, they shared the same womb for nine months.

I opened the door to reveal a well-dressed, clean-shaven man in his mid-twenties, with a Mediterranean look. His skin was the same olive complexion as Rachael's, his eyes halfway between blue and gray, and atop his head sat thick dark shaggy hair. He looked utterly effortless, as if he had just floated from New York on a cloud.

"Hello," he said, and I could tell right away that he was a reporter, even if Rachael hadn't told me countless times. He had that air about him. "Is Rachael in?"

"Yes," I smiled, as charmingly as I could, "Come in."

"Mikey!" Rachael squealed, running into his arms. A moment later, David walked out, fully dressed. "This is David, and his sister Zakia. I told you about them, remember?"

"Pleased to meet you," he said politely, if a little uneasily. He shook David's hand and nodded to me. I wondered what was up with him. Maybe that arrogance I detected when I opened the door was just plain snobbery.

"Would you like a drink?" I asked. He shook his head. I sat down lamely, and everyone else followed suit. I wondered if it was just me that felt the tension in the room. Rachael tried striking up a conversation.

"H-how have you been?" she asked.

"Good, Rach," Michael smiled. "I'm editor in chief now."

"That's great!" David joined in, and I think we all wished he hadn't said it so enthusiastically. I found myself admiring my work around the apartment, looking anywhere but at the other people in the room.

"Er, yeah," Michael said, clearing his throat. "How about you?"

"I'm good," Rachael smiled knowingly at David, "The wedding is in three months time."

"What is it that you do?" Michael asked David. My brother seemed a bit taken aback by the directness of the question.

"He's a lawyer," I said, desperate to speak up for fear of exploding in the silence.

"Ah, that's good," Michael said. I don't know why, but I got the feeling Michael wasn't all too keen on his brother-in-law to be.

An awkward silence ensued, and we were all pulled into its dark depths. It angered me that Michael was not happier for his sister. Sure, he didn't have to jump up and down with joy, but a little enthusiasm would be nice. Even if he didn't totally approve of her choice of husband. I couldn't totally blame him, a logical voice in my head said, as he didn't know David that well. I couldn't be biased, as I was his sister. I mean, sure he was a little lazy, but he would treat Rachael right. What was it? Did he look shifty? I searched my brother's face. He wasn't the scrawny boy I grew up with anymore. His jaw was strong, like our father's, and his eyes hazel like our mother's. His face was friendly, and his skin was handsomely tanned, not compared to Rachael's, though definitely darker than my own. How could anyone not like him?

There was also the fact that half my female friends thought he was gorgeous, but I guess this wouldn't help Michael in liking him.

"Anyone want coffee?" I offered.

"I'd kill for some, thanks," he brightened up at this, but it was short lived. After downing a cup of pure black coffee, he was still as hostile as ever, though a little more awake. It continued like this until Michael decided he should get back to his hotel room. Rachael showed him to the door, and I eavesdropped. Guilty as charged.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Rach?" he asked in a loud whisper. I held my breath.

"What are you talking about?"

"You've only known him, what? A year?"

"Three, actually, Mike," Rachael said coldly, and I felt like cheering for her.

"Still... how well do you know him?" Michael asked uneasily.

"I've known Zakia for four years, I know their family, I'm practically already a part of it," Rachael said. She was torn between duty to her flesh and blood, and us. I felt guilt wrench my gut.

"I just don't want you rushing into something just because you're friends with his sister, you're too young for this sort of commitment," her brother replied. He was raising his voice. My fist clenched against the wall.

"I'm 26, Michael; I'm not a child anymore! Look, don't do this now, please," Rachael pleaded. I heard the door shut, and Rachael came back into the room.

I made an excuse to go back to my apartment.

"Hey," I said, catching up with Michael outside the door. "What is your problem?" So sue me, my anger got the better of me. I never would have spoken to him like that otherwise.

"Excuse me?" he asked arrogantly, raising a dark eyebrow. I wanted to slap him but took a deep breath instead.

"You show up after five years and think you can pass judgement on Rachael's choice of husband?"

He blinked at me.

"Is this how you react when your sister tells you she's getting married? They couldn't be more perfect for each other; it's your loss if you don't see that..."

"I'm sorry," he laughed mirthlessly in my face, "I think I am allowed to have an opinion on my sister's choice of husband, the last time I checked I was her brother." Three words rang in my head: I hate him. "Besides, we both know Rachael can do much better."

"Excuse me?" I spluttered. "Who are you to judge? You don't even know my brother! And the last time I checked, you cleared off for five years, so you do not get to say what is and isn't good for Rachael. Remember Johnny? You probably don't. He cheated on her with his other girlfriend. But I guess you wouldn't know that. It was four years ago, when I first met her."

"You were the other girlfriend," Michael said, and I realised I had closed the distance between us considerably whilst I was ranting. He was glaring unabashedly into my eyes. I returned the cold gaze. My fists were balled once more, and I felt the urge to swing at him. But if he had a black eye tomorrow, I didn't want to have to answer to Rachael. Then again, I was probably flattering myself thinking I could do that much damage.

"That's besides the point," I said, refusing to be flustered. "David is a good man, don't assume anything about him."

"Of course you'll say that, you're his sister, how many times has he told you of all the girls he's slept with?" Michael asked. His gray eyes were hard to look at for too long.

"I'm not saying he tells me everything, but I know he has a good heart," I said. Michael smirked.

"I'm not denying that, but my sister is simply in over her head. If you don't want either of them to get hurt, you'll see she needs to break it off early. Preferably before the marriage," he mused, and for a moment my fists flinched. No, I couldn't wipe that smug grin from his face, no matter how much I wanted to.

"I highly doubt that will happen, and like I said, it's your loss," I shrugged, "Why don't you just go fly back to New York, and buy an extra seat on the plane for your ego."

"Oh, I'm staying for the wedding, if there is one," he grinned, "My ego and I can stay put for now."

"Enjoy your holiday, it won't be long," I smiled sweetly, and then proceeded to the elevator. Unfortunately, Rachael's flat just had to be on the tenth floor of the building. Michael stood next to me as we waited; all the while I was cursing silently for it to hurry up. I dared not look at him, in case he was smiling and my hand felt compelled to slap him. I counted in my head until the lift arrived, which it did, when I got to 46. About time.

"It seems you've given me another reason to disapprove of the marriage," Michael laughed to himself in the lift, and I narrowed my eyes at him.

"What would that be?"

"I'd be related to you," he answered.

"The feeling is mutual," I replied, my tone indicating the end of the conversation. He didn't get the hint.

"No really, imagine family reunions... they'd be fun," he continued.

"And our nieces and nephews' birthday parties," I smiled.

"Exactly," he said, sobering up. "But if they took after your side of the family, I think I'd disown them."

"If you're trying to manipulate me... it's not working," I assured him. "Unlike you, I will do anything to ensure the happiness of my brother and best friend, even put up with you."

"You're right, I wouldn't put up with me," he grinned. I rolled my eyes. We had come to the ground floor. "Well, nice meeting you... Zakary?"

"Zakia," I deadpanned, not shaking his hand. His grin didn't falter.

"Strange name," he commented, frowning slightly.

"It's Jewish," I replied.

"Ah. Well, see you around, Zak!" and with that he exited the lift and strutted towards the door.

I knew he had called me by my nickname to irk me, and despite myself, it worked. He was good. I was going to have to keep him away from Rachael and David, and anything concerning the wedding. As if all the preparations weren't going to be torture enough. I sighed and trudged back to my apartment. This was going to be a long three months.

***

The following weeks were taken up by wedding planning. Naturally, the men wanted no part in it, and Rachael would probably ripped them to shreds for suggesting something wrong, and so David and Michael did some brotherly bonding (hopefully) whilst I was left at the bride-to-be's mercy, drowning in wedding magazines.

"What do you think of this?" Rachael asked me for the ten millionth time. My eyes were closed, as I was resting them.

"It looks beautiful," I yawned.

"Come on, Zak!" she whined, "I really need your help. I don't have my mother to help me with this..."

There it was again: the guilt. For marrying below her, Rachael had been all but disowned by her snobby parents. They would attend the wedding, but her mother wanted no part in planning the wedding for her only daughter. It made me incredibly angry, but Rachael never let me forget it either. She wouldn't hear a bad word about Michael, though, as he was still bothering somewhat with David. Hardly, I wanted to say, but didn't.

I opened my eyes and looked at the wedding cake she was pointing to in the magazine. It was four tiered, bright white and topped with glittering red roses made of icing. I closed my eyes again.

"It's beautiful," I repeated. She seemed happy enough with my remark. The only thing I despised about Rachael was that she, unlike me, was a morning person.

"Ooh," Rachael cooed, "We're going wedding dress shopping next weekend. Want to come?" I knew it wasn't a question, more like an order.

"Ah, I don't know, I have, you know, things to do..."

"I know how much you hate shopping Zak, but can you do this for me? This one time?" Rachael asked. Her large brown puppy dog eyes swayed me, even though I couldn't see them. I had memorized that look by seeing it enough times.

"Fine," I sighed. I reminded myself to bring a book with me so that I could drown out the frills of white lace.

"Great, I'll pick you up at 8!" she said enthusiastically. I groaned. I hoped she meant 8pm, but somehow I doubted that.

***

The next weekend, I woke up at 7am to get ready to go wedding dress shopping. I dragged myself out of bed, made myself look half alive, and waited until Rachael would come and pick me up. Like the idiot that I am, I hadn't asked if I could just meet her there. Well, at least it would save on gas...

I waited until 9am, and the bride-to-be still hadn't shown up. I was beginning to fall asleep again when the doorbell rang. I immediately answered it and there stood Michael, in all his annoying glory, smirking at me. His white teeth were too much to look at, especially at that hour in the morning. I was really not in the mood, and I hoped not to see him again until the wedding, if he even showed up to that.

"Wake up sleepy head," he grinned, "Time to go shopping."

"What are you doing here?" I asked slowly. I don't know why but I was regretting dressing in a pair of old jeans and plain t shirt. Why did he always have to be dressed so immaculately? This time he was wearing a black shirt and jeans. He was always so clean.

"Rachael told me to come pick you up," he said, obviously not happy about the arrangement either. I sighed.

"Fine," I said through gritted teeth and joined him in his car. It was very flashy, I noticed, even in my half asleep state. But then I didn't really know much about cars. It was sunny out, but the breeze blew right through me.

"Wanted to go dress shopping this badly, huh?" I asked sarcastically. "You could've just asked to join us."

"Very funny," Michael deadpanned. "No, Rachael wanted to get there early, and your brother is out of town today."

"Oh, are you two best friends yet?" I asked innocently.

"Not quite," he laughed, "He's a nice man; I just don't think he's right for Rachael. My parents aren't even talking to her, but she won't budge." He frowned. I grinned. One point to me.

"It'll take more than that to break up those two," I smirked. "I watched them fall in love. Trust me, they're too perfect."

"Exactly!" Michael exclaimed, and I almost jumped. "It won't last."

"Excuse me? Since when was being perfect a bad thing, Mr Cynical?" I laughed, though it was partly hypocritical, what with me being Miss Cynical. Still, I believed in Rachael and David's relationship far more than him.

"Since forever. How many infatuated couples last?"

"This isn't just infatuation. It's pure," I found myself insisting.

"Have you ever experienced pure love?" Michael asked. I was silent for a while, listening to the humming of the car as we drove. It was lulling me to sleep.

"No," I said finally.

"There, you see?" he grinned. One point to him.

"But..." I protested, "You can't base this on me! What about you? Haven't you ever fallen in love?"

"I thought I did once," he said vaguely and very seriously. I felt like I was being nosy, but I didn't care. "But I don't think it really exists."

"See, who are we to judge? What they have is love, if we haven't experienced it how can we say they don't have it?"

"How can we say they do have it?" Michael countered.

I sighed in frustration, and the rest of the drive was silent. Luckily our destination was not too far away. When we arrived at the large store named Wedding Emporium, Michael parked the car and joined me inside. I looked at him funnily.

"You really don't have to come in, you know. I was only joking."

"Unfortunately, I do. Rachael wanted me to come along seeing as our mother won't," he said unhappily. I felt a small pang of sympathy but then remember he was an asshole.

The place was packed with bloodthirsty brides, like trained assassins, willing to do anything to get their perfect dress. Fear sent a cold shiver down my spine, or maybe it was just the breeze. We hunted around for Rachael, and after ten minutes of searching, we found her in the dressing rooms. During that time, Michael had gotten three wolf whistles, ten winks, many more smiles, and even got pinched on the ass. Who knew engaged women could be so flirty? I rolled my eyes and pulled him towards the dressing rooms, where the women were not disappointed to see him. Even the staff, who were meant to keeping men out (not that there were any within a mile radius) let him in. Needless to say he was far from reluctant to be there now. I was about ready to scratch my own eyeballs out.

"Is there anything we can help you with?" one member of staff fluttered her eyelashes at Michael. He grinned boyishly, and Rachael pounced on the attention we were being given due to her brother's presence.

"Can I have this in a smaller size?" she asked sweetly, shoving a mass of white silk at the poor girl.

"Of course," the girl said, flicking her blonde hair and visibly pushing out her cleavage, all the time not taking her eyes off Michael. I resisted throwing up. She was probably still in her teens.

"Happy to be here now?" I whispered to him.

"Not at all," he smirked. I elbowed him in the ribs, and he yelped. "What was that for?"

"Slipped," I smiled.

"Behave you two!" Rachael yelled from her cubicle. Her sixth sense was impeccable, from years of having to break up petty fights between me and David.

"We are!" I yelled back. The blonde tart had returned with the dress, and she waited, quite dutifully, for Rachael to finish trying on her current contraption. Ten women were now waiting in line for changing rooms, yet the girl did not move. She licked her lips about ten times, before I could take no more.

"Excuse me?" I asked. "I'll take that; you can get back to your job." I didn't mean to sound like a bitch, honestly.

She scowled at me and sauntered off, swinging her hips.

"No need to be mean, she was just trying to help," Michael said disapprovingly.

"Oh, she was definitely willing to serve," I scoffed. He didn't say anything more.

"Can you help me out with this?" Rachael asked. It took a while, but I managed to wrestle her out of a white man-eating monster, all but slaying the beast, and she pulled on the dress that the blonde girl had handed me a moment before. It was beautiful, hugging her curves all the way to her hips before it spilled out around her legs. The bust was cover in embroidered silver beads formed in the shape of flowers, and the heart shaped neckline and thin white straps finished it off perfectly. "What do you think?" she asked.

"Buy it."

"What? Don't you think it's too... plain?"

"It's perfect!" I cried.

"Are you sure? Shouldn't we look more, I mean you don't want to rush into things here, Rach," Michael popped his head around the door. I watched his face soften. He smiled that knee-melting smile. One more point to me! Yes! "You... look beautiful."

This made Rachael feel a lot better. "You think Dave will like it?" she bit her lip.

"Are you kidding me? His eyes will pop out!" I exclaimed. Michael coughed loudly, and I kicked the door shut behind me.

"Maybe I should look some more, there are tons of other shops..."

"No!" Michael and I said simultaneously. People around us stared. "Just buy this one, it is beautiful!"

"Okay," she sighed wistfully, twirling in her dress like a little girl. "Now it's your turn."

"What?" I asked. All I could think of was the bliss of sleep. It seemed then like some distant dream, unreachable.

"Well, the maid of honour needs a perfect dress!" she protested, as if it was the next most important detail other than her dress. It probably was, what did I know?

"Oh, no no no," I laughed nervously, waving my hands as if I were swatting away flies. "I'm fine, really. Can't it wait?"

"Aww, afraid of looking human, Zak? It's not as hard as it looks," Michael laughed.

"No, it can't wait! Get out there and look! Michael, help her!"

"What?" it was his turn to be surprised. "She can manage by herself, she's a big girl," he smirked. I stuck my tongue out. Real mature. At least I didn't physically abuse him this time.

"No, go!" Rachael insisted. "Quickly, whilst I go and pay for this."

I groaned. I knew it was too good to be true that we found her dress so quickly. I ventured out onto the battlefield, steering clear of all the elaborate frills and bright colours and ninja-women with nunchucks. Michael was basking in all the attention that came his way in the bridesmaids section, whilst I actually looked for a dress. The racks were well ordered, but it was like a maze. Michael picked up a dress behind me.

"What about this one?"

I turned around. It was a bright orange frilly monster, with what looked like four arms and a million green eyes on its chest. I raised my eyebrows at him.

"Are you serious?"

"Why not?" he grinned. "It's totally your colour. I did spend two months as a fashion editor..."

"No," I deadpanned, turning my back on him.

"Fine," he sighed. "Your loss."

"What about this one?" I asked him, and then regretted it. Why was I asking him? It's not like I actually cared what he thought. I hoped he wouldn't answer.

It was a light purple silk floor length halter neck dress, the straps covered in silver beads, showing little cleavage and a lot of flesh at the back. It wasn't bad.

"Size 'small'?" I heard Michael scoff. "Aren't we being a little optimistic?"

I stepped back, onto his foot, and he yelped again. "You deserved that one," I smiled to myself.

I took the dress, and a couple of others, to the changing rooms, where I was given a large luxury changing room, most likely due to Michael's presence. Rachael didn't like any of them, picky as ever.

"No... it doesn't fit right," she complained about the small size. "It's too loose in the bust."

I grinned silently, and Michael simply rolled his eyes. "Okay, that's all of them, now can we go?" he complained, holding Rachael's dress in its large white bag. I half expected him to hold it hostage, cut it up, or "lose" it. I kept my eye on it the whole day.

"Fine, but we're going somewhere else," Rachael explained as we left the shop, much to the chagrin of all the customers and employees.

"Where?" I asked cautiously.

"Another dress shop?" Michael groaned, already knowing the answer.

We complained the whole way there, but it was no use.

***

After unsuccessfully shopping for a bridesmaid's dress, we returned to Rachael and David's apartment. Michael and I stopped off at a convenience store to grab some Coca Cola.

"You do realise that Coke is taking over the world and contributes to as much destruction of natural resources as McDonalds," I remarked. Michael raised an eyebrow at me.

"I don't care, it contains caffeine," he shrugged, mumbling afterwards, "Tree hugger."

"I'd rather be a tree hugger than a tree feller," I snapped. He stood for everything I despised, and so I reluctantly waited for him to purchase his drink. Rachael had gone ahead to her apartment, and I had made her swear not to let David see the dress, no matter how much he pleaded. And knowing him, he would.

It was as I tapped my foot in impatience, that somebody came up behind me and said my name in a high pitched tone.

"Zakia?!"

I winced, and turned to see Jennifer, my brother's ex girlfriend, looking exactly how she had two years ago: short skirt, blonde highlighted hair, and a whole lot of makeup. I cringed. Jennifer and I had never been the best of friends. In fact, I could hardly stand her, but I put up with her for years before my brother's hormones calmed down enough for him to realise she was annoying.

"Jennifer."

"Oh my god!" she exclaimed. "I heard David is getting married."

"Yes."

"To that Rachael girl?" she asked disgustedly.

"Affirmative."

"Whatever, I'm so over—" she was cut off by the presence of Michael, and I groaned inwardly. I hoped he would take longer at the cash register and give me time to get rid of Jennifer. Now they would probably both plot the destruction of the wedding together. "Who are you?"

"I'm Michael," he replied cockily, grinning. I resisted the urge to jab him in the ribs.

"Rachael's twin," I added. Jennifer's mouth formed an O, and her eyes widened, her blue contacts almost falling out. "Michael, Jennifer. Jennifer, Michael." Their names even sounded great together. They would probably get married and their children would be bigger than and bully Rachael and David's beautiful offspring.

"Nice to meet you," she sang, shaking his hand and handing him some sort of card. He looked so smug. Maybe because her cleavage was hanging out. So that was the way to get his attention! I should've done that long ago. "I do hope I'm invited to the wedding," she pouted. "No hard feelings, are there?"

"None whatsoever," Michael answered for me. This earned him another crushed foot. I hoped for his own sake that he'd throw away that card as soon as possible. Somehow, though, I didn't think he would.

"I'll discuss it with my brother," I lied. She brightened up, and Michael was scowling at me.

"See you there, then, Michael!" she sauntered off, swinging her hips, and I didn't even get a "bye". Come to think of it, I didn't get a "hello" either.

"You abuse me one more time, and I won't have any hesitation in hitting a girl," Michael whispered threateningly to me once she had gone.

"What? You mean you've been holding back all this time just because of my gender? I'll have you know I'm all for equal rights," I protested sarcastically. He rolled his eyes and stomped back towards his car, whilst I followed him, grinning. I could've sworn he mumbled "feminist" as if it were the word "bitch".

***

Unfortunately, Michael and I got to spend a lot more time with each other. It was a wonder we hadn't killed each other by the time the bridal shower, which I had dutifully organised all by myself, came around. Naturally, due to all the women, Michael wanted to be present. I refused. If he hadn't "accidentally" kicked me in the shins the day before under the dinner table, I might have considered. Not.

"Well somebody needs to be around to make sure it doesn't get out of hand, what with male strippers and all those frivolous activities you women get up to when us men aren't around," he protested. I smiled, knowing that he would probably be the male stripper if he was allowed to come.

"If you wanted the job you just had to ask, don't hold back all the time," I patted him on the shoulder, "it's unhealthy." He scowled at me, and I laughed. "Besides, that is all for the hen night," I winked.

"Oh, I'll be there. Fully clothed!" he added, before I exited Rachael's apartment.

The shower was to be the next day, and ironically enough, it rained. Yet somehow, Michael still made it to the apartment, completely dry and, if anything, very hot. Not that that was my opinion of him, but my and Rachael's friends seemed to have other ideas. The apartment was decorated with purple banners, and the presents were laid out in a pile on the living room floor. It was perfect, until he arrived. I had tried barring his entrance, but once the girls caught sight of him, that was the beginning of the end.

"Ooh," my colleague Mandy swooned. "He's gorgeous! Even hotter than your brother, Zak! How come we've never met him before?!"

"Because he left for five years," I deadpanned, glowering at him basking in all the attention. I had dressed in a short black skirt, and cute purple shirt with a bow on it. Yet nobody noticed that I had bothered to wear a skirt for the first time in years.

"That's a shame," she pouted. "Do you know if he's single?"

"No idea," I downed another drink. God knew I needed it.

"Oh," she frowned. "Well at least he's here!"

"Yeah," I snorted. "Isn't it just great?"

But Mandy didn't hear me. She was halfway across the room, staring at Michael's half open shirt. I groaned loudly in frustration, and by some sixth sense, Michael heard and his greyish blue gaze snapped to me. He grinned, showing off his tan by contrast to his bright white teeth, and waved at me. Half my friends glared at me. What was wrong with them all? Could they not see that they were being brainwashed by that gorgeous smile? I glared right back at him and his seemingly rock hard abs. Honestly, why did he have to pick today to wear a half transparent shirt? So much for being "fully clothed". Cheat.

"Than' you so much for this, Zakky," Rachael cooed, throwing herself onto me. Her makeup was slightly smudged from crying. I hugged her back, realising that she was drunk, and took her drink away from her. She was always a depressive drunk. "Is lovely!" she slurred. "Bu' am I doin' the right thin'?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Shoul' I marry David?!" she yelled, and everyone stopped to look at us. Rachael broke down into tears and I took her to the bathroom, which was occupied. Instead, I steered her out into the hallway.

"Calm down, Rachael!" I said sternly, my own head starting to spin.

"Ok," she sobbed.

"How much have you had to drink?" I asked.

"Just a few... Michael gave me some," she sniffed. I sighed, bottling up my anger for later, and then cleaned her up as best I could and went back into the party. Her mood suddenly brightened. "I'm gonna go open presents!" and then she set off across the room for the pile of presents, and everybody gathered around, mostly around the couch on which Michael was sat. I sat on a whole couch by myself, feeling very popular indeed. Grown women were such vultures at times. It sickened me.

The presents were opened, as were countless more bottles of alcohol. It turned more into a hen night than a bridal shower, not helped by Michael's presence. I began to lose my balance, walking into the sharp coffee table a number of times. My bare leg began to feel badly bruised, but I didn't care. I just tried avoiding Michael, which wasn't hard, until he started trying to talk to me. In my half drunken state I didn't comprehend this until he wouldn't leave me alone. Rachael's apartment was small, and so there weren't many places I could hide. After making a break for it from the bathroom, I ran into the coffee table for the umpteenth time. Cursing blindly, and feeling blood trickle down my leg, I fell through the air. It seemed almost in slow motion, except somebody caught me. Knowing only one person would be able to do that, I tried gathering my balance and standing up, but failed badly again. The dimmed lighting didn't help.

"Woah, there," Michael said, his speech not slurred in the slightest. "You okay?"

"No!" I said a bit too loudly. Everyone stared. Michael took no notice, looking down at my leg. I fought a blush.

"You're hurt," he remarked blankly, and I expected him to leave me alone to tend to my own wound. But instead, he picked me up, bridal style, and carried me to the bathroom. This too was also in slow motion, unless I was starting to fall unconscious. I managed to stay awake until he sat me down on the edge of the bath and got out the first aid kit from the cabinet. I sat there quietly, embarrassed as a schoolgirl, whilst he wiped up the blood and put a band aid on my leg. He feeling of his hands on my legs made me shiver, and I told myself it was because the bath was cold against them compared to his touch. "You ought to be more careful," he said, after forever.

"Yeah," I laughed nervously, then remembered the bottled up anger. "You mixed Rachael's drinks."

"What?"

"Don't act like you don't know," I said, and he stood up, towering over me.

"I don't," he said, his tone blank and implying the end of the conversation. Somehow I felt bad for arguing with him.

We left the bathroom, me hobbling behind, and Michael announced his departure, much to the disappointment of most of the guests. They pined after him as he left, and once he had exited, after a small nod in my direction, they pounced on me.

"What happened?!" Mandy asked. "That was adorable, what he just did!"

"I just kept banging into that blasted table!" I said, masking my embarrassment with anger.

"But he saved you," Lisa said wistfully. "I'd have broken my leg to have him do that for me!"

***

The following week I had my last chance to buy a bridesmaid's dress. This time Rachael and I went alone, and Michael was not mentioned. Thankfully, she was unconscious when our little encounter happened. I didn't mention it to her.

"What about this one?" she asked, and I yawned exaggeratedly. I was dead tired. She had dragged me up at 6am to look at dresses, and my eyes were watering after the yawn, so my vision was blurred. Rachael sighed loudly. "Just try it on!"

So I did. The dressing rooms weren't big enough to extend my elbow in, but I managed it. The dress was plain and white, with a scoop neck, and tight fitting. It showed far too much cleavage for my liking, but the silver embroidery on the hem was quite pretty. My back felt cold, as it was completely exposed. And it was a size small, and fit perfectly. I scrunched my nose at her, but Rachael gasped.

"It matches my dress perfectly!" she squealed. My face dropped.

"Really? What about ones with more... fabric?" I asked, pleading with my eyes.

"Are you kidding? You have a gorgeous body! Show off once in a while!" Rachael insisted, hitting me on the arm. I flinched.

"Fine," I sighed. And so we paid for the dress, after haggling with the shopkeeper over a loose thread on the hem which out to have brought the price down, but Rachael insisted that she could fix. If I cared any less, I would've been asleep, which at that moment I wished I was. Once we returned home, David hounded me to get a look at my dress. I ignored him and made a beeline for the bed in the guest bedroom. I climbed in without turning on the light, and snuggled into the blanket. When a pair of arms grabbed me from behind, I screamed, and heard laughter erupt in my ears. I recognised it right away.

"Michael!" I screeched. The lamp was turned on, and I saw Michael rolling around in hysterics beside me. I tried hitting him, but he held my hands so I couldn't move. I noticed he was shirtless, and tried hiding my blush. I didn't need him to know his touch had an effect on me, ever since the other night.

"What brings you here? If you wanted to sleep with me you just had to be nicer to me and maybe I would've been attracted to you," Michael grinned, his cheekbones highlighted by the glow of the lamp. I scowled. "But many girls before you have tried and failed."

"Puh-lease," I scoffed. "I was just tired. What are you doing here? Trying to break up the happy couple?"

"I don't know what you mean," he said innocently, drawing closer. "I simply couldn't be bothered to drive back to the hotel so late... and Rachael insisted that I stay here."

"Whatever," I yawned involuntarily.

"Sleep all you want. Don't mind me," he smirked. I pulled my hands away from his.

"No thanks, I'd rather go without sleep," I snapped, getting out of the bed.

"You're right, not many girls strictly sleep when they're in bed with me," he mused. I pretended to gag.

"Spare me," I pleaded sarcastically. He was still wearing that insufferable smile.

"Find your dress?"

"Yes," I replied coldly. "Find your ego? I heard it got so big it had to move out."

"Ouch," he said, pretending to be hurt. I made my way to the door, but he had to put in a last comment. "Mind if I bring a date to the wedding? I mean, you are bringing somebody, aren't you? I just don't want to be the awkward single person, all alone amongst a sea of couples..." I could hear his maniacal little mind whirring, thinking up new ways to torture and manipulate me.

"No," I deadpanned, slamming the door shut. I smiled, glad that I had resisted his attempts at having me make a fool out of myself by bringing some lame date. Then again, maybe it was his plan to have me resist, and be alone whilst he flaunted some bimbo who would be attached to his arm the whole time. I was confused, and shook my head, clearing my thoughts. I did not need a date. No matter what Michael said. No doubt he would drop his date as soon as some girl with bigger breasts showed interest in him.

***

Things were getting serious. The wedding was a week away, and David and Michael had gone out for the night for some manly bonding. It seemed innocent enough, and I thought everything was going well. Rachael and I decided to give them some space, and so we stayed well out of their way, going shopping for the day and most of the evening. We had assured the boys that we wouldn't be back till very late. But, as fate would have it, Michael had insisted upon us coming home before 10. He didn't want his sister out too late, and I was to have her back before her curfew. I should've noticed then that something was up.

We entered the apartment, and the lighting was dimmed. I frowned. Were they having a romantic dinner? Then we saw David, being straddled by another girl, their lips inches apart in the half-darkness. They looked up, and I realised the girl was Jennifer. After a delayed reaction, Rachael dropped her bags and ran from the scene. The blood ran from my own face and it took me until David noticed us to move.

"Rachael?!" he yelled. But she was long gone. He pushed a smug looking Jennifer off his lap and sent me a pleading look, but I looked away. I didn't know what to think, or say. Then Michael emerged from a room nearby, looking visibly dishevelled. I narrowed my eyes. This was his doing. He smirked at me.

"You!" I whispered. I didn't have the energy to even scream or yell. That seemed like too light a punishment, and would no doubt serve to amuse him. Instead, I ran after Rachael. It took till the next day for her to stop crying, and with the help of a lot of ice cream and tissue boxes, I managed to calm her down. I didn't want to blame it all on her brother, not yet anyway. I called him and left hundreds of messages, mostly with Rachael's sobs as background music. My yells must've drowned out those pretty nicely though. He didn't turn up at my apartment, and neither did David, though he left a lot of messages for me.

In that moment, I hated him more than I had ever hated anyone before. I knew it was more than just petty anger, because every fibre of my being burned with longing to see him dead or just gone. Ever since he had turned up, everything was going wrong. It was just my luck that he had to return months before the biggest day of the lives of my brother and best friend. And yet he had managed to ruin the lives of the two people I loved most in the world, with one single act.

"I didn't mean to, Zak," David said desperately. "We bumped into her, Michael invited her back, and things just sort of got out of control. She wouldn't take no as an answer!"

That was all I needed to hear. I knew it wasn't his fault, and my brother was pretty useless. I couldn't blame him. "I know."

"You do?!"

"Yes," I laughed. He sounded so relieved.

"Can you tell Rachael that?"

"She's in a pretty fragile state at the moment," I said cautiously. David sighed.

"I'm so sorry Zak," he groaned. "I don't know what to do. I haven't told anybody the wedding is off, if you haven't?"

"No, I haven't," I told him. Rachael wasn't in any fit state to call it off either.

"Tell her I love her?"

"I will," I lied, hanging up.

In a spur of the moment move, I drove angrily over to Michael's hotel. The male receptionist was nice enough to give me his room number, and I knew that if he were a female, she'd be far too jealous to send a girl up to his room. I marched right up there; well, I took the lift, and knocked loudly on his door.

"Michael?!" I yelled. A girl opened the door, half dressed in a man's large blue shirt. She looked me up and down, in my sweats and an old t shirt. I hadn't bothered getting dressed up.

"Who are you?" she asked disgustedly.

"Let me see that son of a—"

"Zakia!" Michael cut me off enthusiastically. I glowered at him. "What are you doing here?" He whispered something to the girl and she sauntered off moodily.

"I'm here to tell you that your sister is crying herself to death," I smiled. "In a few hours she'll have lost so much water her body will be shrivelled up like a prune."

"She'll get over it," he shrugged. "So is the wedding off? 'Cause now I won't have an excuse to ask my date out."

"That thing?" I asked, nodding towards the girl.

"No way, someone better," he grinned. I counted to three and tried not to slap him.

"Well I guess you could always invite her to your sister's funeral instead. I just had to hide all the knives and scissors in my apartment before I went out. And all of David's messages simply make her more hysterical."

Michael frowned. "Look, I know it seems bad now, but this is all for the best. Trust me."

"Trust you?!" I laughed mirthlessly. "I'd rather jump off a cliff!"

"That can be arranged," he said darkly, before I heard a whining voice coming from inside. It was the slut calling for Michael.

The next time I saw him was when he deigned to pay a visit to his heartbroken sister. She was sniffling quietly in her room when he entered, and I couldn't help but eavesdrop. So sue me, I needed to come to her rescue should Michael say anything harmful. And if he told her it was his entire fault... then I needed to be on hand to save his life, no matter how reluctantly I may do so.

"Rach?" he asked meekly.

"Mikey," she sobbed violently, probably in his arms. I knew his ice cold heart was melting as they spoke.

"Are you okay?" he asked stupidly.

"Oh, yeah!" Rachael replied sarcastically, "I'm great!"

"Is... is the wedding called off?" he asked softly.

"I don't know," Rachael sniffed. "I don't want it to be, Mike..."

"But..." he urged.

"I don't know what to do. I want to forgive him but if I do people will think I'm a pushover and if he does it to me again it'll be all my fault!" she cried, all in one breath. Michael sighed.

"I think you should forgive him," he said, so quietly I almost didn't hear.

"What?" Rachael asked.

"I think you should forgive him," Michael repeated. "It wasn't his fault."

"Really?"

"Really."

So he hadn't pleaded guilty, yet he had vouched for David's innocence. That was good enough for me, and for Rachael, because she fled from the room directly to her car. I knew where she was going, and left her to it. Michael emerged moments later, looking incredibly sheepish. I folded my arms and stared at him blankly.

"You were right," he shrugged, making for the door.

"What? I didn't quite hear you," I smirked.

"You were right, Zak," he whispered, flashing me a faint smile, before shutting the front door. So why did I not feel victorious?

After a heartfelt reunion which could've rivalled any romantic movie ending, the wedding was back on. A week later, by the time it rolled around, I was so ready to get it over with. I know that sounds horrible, but the preparations were driving me crazy. Flowers, candles, presents, catering, makeup, hair. I was glad I didn't also have to find a date; Michael had put me off that idea completely. I silently vowed never to get married.

"Zakia! Get your dress on!" Rachael yelled at me. I sighed, hoping to put it off for another hour or so. The wedding started in three hours.

"Fine," I sighed, pulling on the silk contraption and shivering. The heating wasn't even on, and I was freezing. The hairdresser then curled my frizzy mass of black hair, and applied more makeup to me than I had ever worn in my life. I felt plastic, but Rachael assured me I looked beautiful.

"Maybe now you'll meet someone!" she said happily. I raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Well, you know, you've been single for years now..." she mused. I sighed, not saying anything in reply. She dropped the matter, thankfully.

When we arrived at the Hilton Hotel in the limousine, most of which Michael had chipped in for, Rachael's butterflies began coming out of her mouth.

"I'm so nervous!" she cried, biting her manicured nails and smudging her lipstick. "What if he doesn't show up?"

"If he doesn't, I'll kill him," I smiled. She grinned back. We waited until everyone was seated before clambering out of the limo and stepping inside. Then my nerves began to kick in, as I was to go down the aisle in front of Rachael, who was to be given away by Michael. He was waiting for us inside, a set of large wooden doors shielding us from the aisle and all the guests. I took a deep breath to calm myself, and Michael grinned at us both when we entered.

"You look hot," he told us, which earned him a slap. "I mean, you look beautiful," he smiled at Rachael, and then me, his eyes lingering for a while on the latter. I thanked my makeup for hiding my blush. He didn't look too bad himself, clad in a classic black suit and white shirt. His eyes looked bluer than ever. "Are you ready?"

Both Rachael and I nodded, too nervous to speak. I doubt anything coherent would've come out of my mouth anyway.

After the ceremony, during which, I admit, I shed a tear; we entered the hall next door, where the food was served. Everything went perfectly, and I felt elated, despite being alone. Michael's date hadn't shown up, either, I noticed. I tried not being happy at this fact, but I couldn't help it. He came over to where I stood during Rachael and David's first dance. Other couples started to creep onto the dance floor, the romantic atmosphere getting to everybody. The only light in the room was coming from a spotlight focused on the newlyweds, casting a rosy glow about the room. Even Mandy had a date, and seemed to have forgotten about Michael. I was perfectly content being alone, people watching, until Michael showed up.

"Having fun?" he asked.

"Yes," I answered truthfully. "Are you not going to dance? Where's that date of yours?"

"The truth is, I haven't asked her yet," he smiled. I frowned.

"Why not? It's a bit late now," I replied.

"Not really, I think I'm ready to ask her now," he smiled knowingly. I was utterly baffled by him.

"Well you better hurry up, girls don't like things being left till the last minute," I urged him. No doubt she wouldn't make it there in time if she didn't have a dress ready, and all her makeup...

"Zakia, will you be my date?" Michael asked suddenly. My eyes widened.

"What?"

"It was you all along," he smirked. I was torn between wanting to kiss him and hit him. I was sure my face was bright red, and I was speechless. Michael chuckled at my deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression. "Will you dance with me?"

I let him lead me onto the dance floor, and it felt more like a dream really. He placed his hand on my waist, and Rachael caught my eye and winked at me. I blinked. This was far too strange.

"Say something?" Michael urged me.

"I don't know what to say," I replied, regaining the ability to think and speak coherently. "What about that girl in your hotel room...?"

"Sorry about that," he replied, "Room service maids don't take no as an answer."

I laughed, "But why didn't you ask me before?"

"Because I thought you hated me," he grinned. "To tell you the truth, I didn't like you all too much either at first."

I pulled my hands away from his neck and tried hitting him, but by that time he knew how to react. Instead, he leant towards me and pressed his lips to mine. I was too shocked to move at first, and then my hands went back to their original position, and we stood in the middle of the dance floor, completely oblivious to everything around us. He tasted like coffee and mint, and I melted into the kiss.

"What changed?" I asked a little breathlessly, pulling away for air.

"You infuriated me so much that I began to fall in love with you," he replied. I wondered how on earth that worked, but didn't care in the least. "And of course, I knew you would fall for me too. I mean, who wouldn't?"

This time I pressed my lips to his, shutting him up, and affirming the latter.

***

"Daddy!" a small child shrieked.

"Yes?" both David and Michael asked at the same time. I laughed. My niece came running into the room, tears streaming down her small round face, clutching her dark curls.

"Johnny pulled my hair!" she pouted. I frowned, and my son shuffled sheepishly into the room, trying not to be seen. He was the image of his father.

"Where do you think you're going?" I asked. He shuffled over to me and grinned, his green eyes twinkling. Yes, he was just like Michael.

"She was in my room," he offered as an excuse for pulling his cousin's hair. They were six, and already at each other's throats. Rachael then waddled in, heavily pregnant, and moaning about all her aches and pains. The children begged to feel the babies kick; she was carrying twins. David helped her sit down, and the children were ushered outside to give her some peace and quiet. My brother whispered sweet nothings into her ear whilst they cuddled. It was an adorable picture. My own husband's arms snaked around my waist and he smiled against my neck.

"Do you think we should try for twins?" he asked cheekily. I elbowed him.

"No way," I replied with a mirthless laugh. "One is more than enough."

"Okay, why not just try for one more? Before we go back to New York?" he trailed kisses up my neck and I still shivered at his touch.

"But we're leaving tomorrow..."

"Exactly," he grinned mischievously, kissing me before I could reply.