Page 43 of Untruly With You

“Hey, Mom,” Frankie says, winking at me. “Of course I didn’t forget.” She makes a face at me that saysOh yeah, I totally forgot. “Are you sure?” Pause. “Like,sure-sure?” She snorts. “Yeah, I’ll tell her.”

“What did you forget?” I ask when she hangs up.

“I promised I would be at the dress shop for final fittings,” Frankie says, fighting a groan. “But the good news is, Cassidy wants you to come. So now, I don’t have to suffer alone.”

“That can’t be a good idea,” I say. Not only has my every interaction with Cassidy gone sour, but I was also looking forward to spending more time with Sutton.

“Doyouwant to be the one to tell the bride no?” Frankie asks, the corner of her mouth twitching up. I sigh, and it’senough of a surrender for Frankie, because she continues, “And I hope you like pink.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“Because apparently one of Cassidy’s bridesmaids dropped out—broken leg—and she wants you to fill in.”

“No.” My answer is immediate, my voice so harsh it shocks me.

“Please,” Frankie begs. “Please. I’ll be miserable without you. I need you there, a tether to the sane world.”

“You’ve seen how Cassidy is with me.”

“I know, I know. But maybe this is a good chance for you two to make amends.”

“There’s no way she actually wants me to be in her wedding.”

“With less than two weeks to the big day, it’s either you stand in or the balance of the entire wedding party will be thrown off.”

“You’re telling me there isn’t another girl in West River who can stand in?”

“It’s a small town—slim pickings. Besides, maybe this is her waving a white flag.”

My scoff communicates more than words ever could.

After fifteen minutes of groveling, I haven’t worn Frankie down one bit. No matter how hard I protest, it’s no use. It’s practically impossible to say no to Frankie.

Of course, West River is too small for a bridal shop, so we have to go back to Missoula for the dress fittings. On the way there, Frankie hands me her aux cord.

“You choose the music,” she says.

I push it back to her. “You’re the driver—it’s your choice.”

Frankie’s head tips back with a laugh. “Laine, I love you, but this is ridiculous. You say you hate making decisions, so we’re going to do some exposure therapy. This isn’t an important, life-altering choice. Just pick a song already.”

19

SUTTON

Frankie keptLaine out all night, so I didn’t see her again until waking up the next morning. I open my eyes to find her already awake, propped up on one elbow, watching me with a fond smile. Sleep tousled her hair, and delicate pieces of her bangs fell along her forehead. The soft morning light across her chocolate eyes makes them shine like moonlight on a dark lake.

"Good morning," Laine greets, her voice a gentle melody that matches the tranquility of the moment.

I stretch my arms over my head, trying to shake out the lingering drowsiness. Thankfully, the sight of Laine is a stronger energizer than any cup of coffee could be. “How long have you been awake?”

“Not long. The quiet woke me.”

I raise my eyebrows.

“It’s never this quiet in the city,” she justifies.

Noticing my old copy ofPeter Pansitting at Laine’s hip, I ask, “You get some good reading in?”

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