I’ll try to just accept this graciously.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank you!” Harmony said, taking her drink from the tray. She signed the bill and began sipping the fruity concoction. “I’m just so excited to be going to this
one!”
“Me, too,” America said, glaring in my direction. She had barely forgiven me for getting married without her. And, honestly, I hoped she’d never try to pull the same move on
me. But marriage was still a long way off for her.
She and Shepley were going to get their own apartment, but both decided that even though they were always around each other, America would stay in Morgan, and Shepley would move into Helms, a
men’s dorm. Mark and Pam were happier about this arrangement. They loved Shepley but were worried that the stress of real-world bills and jobs would affect Shepley’s and America’s
focus on school. America was struggling, even at the dorms.
“I just hope it goes smoothly. I hate the thought of standing in front of all those people staring at us.”
America breathed out a laugh. “Elvis wasn’t invited, but I’m sure it will still be beautiful.”
“I still can’t believe Elvis was at your wedding,” Harmony said, giggling.
“Not the dead one,” Kara deadpanned.
“He wasn’t invited this time,” I said, watching the children taking lessons celebrate windsurfing on their own.
“What was it like? Getting married in Vegas?” Harmony asked.
“It was . . .” I said, thinking about the moment we left, almost exactly a year earlier. “Stressful and frightening. I was worried. I cried. It was pretty much
perfect.”
Harmony’s expression was one of combined disgust and surprise. “Sounds like it.”
Travis
“Fuck you,” I said, not amused.
“Oh, c’mon!” Shepley said, shaking with laughter. “You used to say I was the whipped one.”
“Fuck you again.”
Shepley turned off the ignition. He had parked the Charger on the far side of Cherry Papa’s parking lot. Home of the fattest, dirtiest strippers in town. “It’s not like
you’re going to take one of them home.”
“I promised Pidge. No strippers.”
“I promised you a bachelor party.”
“Dude, let’s just go home. I’m full, tired, and we’ve got a plane to catch in the morning.”
Shepley frowned. “The girls have been lying on a beach in St. Thomas all day, and now they’re probably partying it up in a club.”
I shook my head. “We don’t go to clubs without each other. She wouldn’t do that.”
“She would if America planned it.”
I shook my head again. “No, she fucking wouldn’t. I’m not going into the strip club. Either pick something else, or take me home.”
Shepley sighed, and squinted his eyes. “What about that?”
I followed his line of sight to the next block over. “A hotel? Shep, I love ya, man, but it’s not a real bachelor party. I’m married. And even if I weren’t, I still
wouldn’t have sex with you.”
Shepley shook his head. “There’s a bar in there. It’s not a club. Is that permitted on your long list of marriage rules?”
I frowned. “I just respect my wife. And yes, douche bag, we can go in there.”
“Awesome,” he said, rubbing his hands together.
We walked across the street, and Shepley opened the door. It was pitch-black.
“Uh . . .” I began.
Suddenly the lights turned on. The twins, Taylor and Tyler, threw confetti in my face, music began to blare, and then I saw the worst thing I’d ever seen in my life: Trenton in a man
thong, covered in about ten pounds of body glitter. He had on a cheap, yellow wig, and Cami was laughing her head off, cheering him on.
Shepley pushed me in the rest of the way. My dad was on one side of the room, standing next to Thomas. They were both shaking their heads. My uncle Jack was on the other side of Thomas, and then
the rest of the room was filled with Sigma Tau brothers and football players.
“I said no strippers,” I said, watching dumbfounded as Trenton
“Thank you.”
“Thank you!” Harmony said, taking her drink from the tray. She signed the bill and began sipping the fruity concoction. “I’m just so excited to be going to this
one!”
“Me, too,” America said, glaring in my direction. She had barely forgiven me for getting married without her. And, honestly, I hoped she’d never try to pull the same move on
me. But marriage was still a long way off for her.
She and Shepley were going to get their own apartment, but both decided that even though they were always around each other, America would stay in Morgan, and Shepley would move into Helms, a
men’s dorm. Mark and Pam were happier about this arrangement. They loved Shepley but were worried that the stress of real-world bills and jobs would affect Shepley’s and America’s
focus on school. America was struggling, even at the dorms.
“I just hope it goes smoothly. I hate the thought of standing in front of all those people staring at us.”
America breathed out a laugh. “Elvis wasn’t invited, but I’m sure it will still be beautiful.”
“I still can’t believe Elvis was at your wedding,” Harmony said, giggling.
“Not the dead one,” Kara deadpanned.
“He wasn’t invited this time,” I said, watching the children taking lessons celebrate windsurfing on their own.
“What was it like? Getting married in Vegas?” Harmony asked.
“It was . . .” I said, thinking about the moment we left, almost exactly a year earlier. “Stressful and frightening. I was worried. I cried. It was pretty much
perfect.”
Harmony’s expression was one of combined disgust and surprise. “Sounds like it.”
Travis
“Fuck you,” I said, not amused.
“Oh, c’mon!” Shepley said, shaking with laughter. “You used to say I was the whipped one.”
“Fuck you again.”
Shepley turned off the ignition. He had parked the Charger on the far side of Cherry Papa’s parking lot. Home of the fattest, dirtiest strippers in town. “It’s not like
you’re going to take one of them home.”
“I promised Pidge. No strippers.”
“I promised you a bachelor party.”
“Dude, let’s just go home. I’m full, tired, and we’ve got a plane to catch in the morning.”
Shepley frowned. “The girls have been lying on a beach in St. Thomas all day, and now they’re probably partying it up in a club.”
I shook my head. “We don’t go to clubs without each other. She wouldn’t do that.”
“She would if America planned it.”
I shook my head again. “No, she fucking wouldn’t. I’m not going into the strip club. Either pick something else, or take me home.”
Shepley sighed, and squinted his eyes. “What about that?”
I followed his line of sight to the next block over. “A hotel? Shep, I love ya, man, but it’s not a real bachelor party. I’m married. And even if I weren’t, I still
wouldn’t have sex with you.”
Shepley shook his head. “There’s a bar in there. It’s not a club. Is that permitted on your long list of marriage rules?”
I frowned. “I just respect my wife. And yes, douche bag, we can go in there.”
“Awesome,” he said, rubbing his hands together.
We walked across the street, and Shepley opened the door. It was pitch-black.
“Uh . . .” I began.
Suddenly the lights turned on. The twins, Taylor and Tyler, threw confetti in my face, music began to blare, and then I saw the worst thing I’d ever seen in my life: Trenton in a man
thong, covered in about ten pounds of body glitter. He had on a cheap, yellow wig, and Cami was laughing her head off, cheering him on.
Shepley pushed me in the rest of the way. My dad was on one side of the room, standing next to Thomas. They were both shaking their heads. My uncle Jack was on the other side of Thomas, and then
the rest of the room was filled with Sigma Tau brothers and football players.
“I said no strippers,” I said, watching dumbfounded as Trenton
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