Meant to Marry Me

Chapter 28: Christy Can't Help

“God, Bree--do you have any idea what time it is?”

Christy’s voice sounded in her ear, and even though she was annoyed, Bree was just happy she’d

answered. At a time like this, when she needed to talk to someone who knew the background and was

capable of saying the things she needed to hear, Christy was her go-to girl and had been ever since

high school.

“Sorry, hon. Did I wake you up?” Bree asked, thinking Christy didn’t sound groggy--just irritated.

“Hell, no. But I’m in the process of switching clubs. What’s up, bitch?”

That had Bree giggling. While everyone else their age who wasn’t at an event like Bree happened to

be, was home, sleeping, preparing for work the next day, Christy was on her way to a different party. “I

just hoped I could talk to you for a few minutes, but if you’re busy, it’s okay. I can call you some other

time.”

“No way. You’re at that swanky wedding in Gulf Shores, right? I mean, of course I’ve got time to listen

to that. Besides, I’m in an Uber. What’s going on?”

Bree took a deep breath. “Well, first of all, do you have any idea who the groom is?”

“Uh… yeah. So I guess you do, too, huh?”

“Wait, what? You knew, and you didn’t tell me?”

She could hear Christy shrugging over the phone. “I thought you knew.”

“Then why did you say, ‘that swanky wedding’ and not ‘Trent’s wedding’?”

“Because, it’s not like he’s the only one there I know. Hank is there, right? And Trent brought Matt and

Dwayne over to my house a couple of times on breaks and stuff, so I know them, too. I know Lilly

because she used to be your roommate, and Monica’s been in some fashion shoots and shit, so I

recognized her.”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Bree hoped she didn’t sound too mad, but she was a little mad. Why would

Christy not tell her what she was walking into? “Why aren’t you here?”

“I’ll be there Saturday. So will Abs and everyone else. You think Trent didn’t invite us to his wedding?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t invite me.”

“Well, there’s a reason for that, isn’t there? And yet, there you are, soaking it all up. How is that,

anyway? How is it knowing he’s gonna marry someone else? I mean, I’ve always speculated that you

wrote that song for him.”

“I didn’t write it for him. I didn’t write anything for him.” Now, Bree was lying to the very person she’d

called for help. Still, she felt betrayed that all of these people knew she was walking into a firestorm and

hadn’t warned her. “It’s… weird, though. If I had known it was his wedding, I would’ve said no.”

“God, Bree, I’m sorry. I guess I should’ve told you he was getting married when I first found out. I just

figured you were better off not knowing, especially since she’s a model and all. I mean, not that you’re

not gorgeous--just as pretty as she is--it’s just… who wants to hear the guy she used to have a crush

on is marrying a model, you know?”

“I know.” Bree let out a hot blast of air. “That’s actually not why I called, though.” She heard Christy

talking to her driver and getting out of the car, and in the distance, she could hear the beat of the music

coming from the club.

“What is it?” Christy asked, and Bree hoped she didn’t mind standing outside for a minute while she

told her the real reason she’d called.

“It’s Hank. He’s not himself--not the Hank I remember from high school, anyway. He doesn’t want to go

anywhere without me. One minute, it seems like he can’t stand Monica, and the next, it’s like he’s her

biggest fan. It’s so weird. He’s kinda mopey, too. I haven’t seen him act this way ever--except for that

one time at your birthday party. The last one I came home for.”

“Hank was upset at my birthday party? I don’t recall that.”

“Well, you were a little inebriated, to say the least. Yeah, I was upset because I’d just seen Trent at the

convenience store with some girl, and he was upset because he liked this girl at school, but she

wouldn’t date him because he was going to be a personal trainer, and she was looking for someone

more ‘professional,’ or something. Apparently, she was screwing him but wouldn’t date him date him.

What did he say her name was?” Bree asked herself. She couldn’t remember. It was something weird.

“Anyway, he’s acting a little bit like that, like he’s broken-hearted but doesn’t want to dish any details.

Do you have any idea what’s going on with him?”

“I’m not sure,” Christy admitted. “I do remember that chick, though. She was such a bitch. She’d swing

him along, make him think he had a chance, and then cut him off until the next time she needed a quick

screw, and then she’d call him. Stupid bitch. I wish I knew who she was so I could slap her in the face.

Anyway, Hank has known Monica for a long time, too, you know? They went to college together. Maybe

he’s just thinking of her like a sister or something--where you get mad at someone and then you’re cool

with them again.” Belongs © to NôvelDrama.Org.

“I don’t know. Maybe. This seems different somehow.” Bree couldn't quite put her finger on it.

“He might be mad that Monica is spending so much of Trent’s money, too. That wedding isn’t exactly

Trent’s style.”

Bree didn’t think that was it either. “Hank said something weird to me at the beach, though. What was it

exactly?” She thought back to what he’d said when they were sitting on the beach and it suddenly

came to her. He’d slipped it in so quickly, it hadn’t quite stuck, but now, she thought it was significant.

“He said this isn’t quite that easy on him either. Why would he say that?”

“The wedding?” Christy questioned. “I have no idea. Is he afraid he’ll lose Trent? I mean, if Monica

makes him move to New York City or Paris, he will.”

“Maybe.” Again, Bree didn’t think that was it. She had an odd feeling in her gut; something wasn’t quite

right with Hank. But Christy hadn’t ended up being the help she’d wanted, and now she was getting

tired. “All right, sister, I’m gonna let you go. I’ve gotta get up early to play beach volleyball.”

“Beach volleyball? You? Lord, have mercy.”

“Hey, I can do it… maybe.”

“At least maybe there will be hot guys without their shirts on. I mean, other than Trent and Hank. Are

Matt and Dwayne still hot?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t spent that much time around them.”

“You don’t know if they’re hot? Girl, you have still only got eyes for Trent.”

“Oh, stop! I’ve gotta go. Talk to you later.”

“See you later,” Christy corrected, and then her friend hung up.

Bree set her phone aside and realized Christy could read her like a book. She hadn’t thought about

seeing Trent without his shirt on, though it had crossed her mind that her little petite self would be

wearing a bathing suit next to Monica and her friends who were seventy-five percent legs. Bree would

look like a twelve-year-old girl next to them. At least Lilly wasn’t as statuesque as her sister and her

friends either.

Again, she blew out a deep breath, realizing she was screwed. She had to go to the volleyball match

because she’d told Hank she would. Chances were, she’d end up embarrassing herself by bouncing a

ball off of her head or falling on her face.

“This is going to be epic,” she said, shaking her head. Hopefully, she wouldn’t dream about face

planting or otherwise making a fool of herself. How bad could her dreams be when her life was already

a nightmare?