Page 28 of Mr. Swoony

“No, asshole, he was Pinkie way before the injury.” Simon shakes his head as if he’s embarrassed for his friend.

“It’s just a coincidence that I have two reasons for them to call me that. One for the Pink Floyd song, ‘Another Brick in the Wall,’ and then the pinkie injury happened.” I shoot Theo an expression to say don’t sweat it.

The injury could’ve been so much worse. Taking a blade to the tip of my pinkie. Most people don’t notice it unless they’re staring at my hands, but it does suck that I’ve got nerve damage. Thank God, it’s only my pinkie.

“That’s a killer nickname,” Theo says.

“Thanks.”

I’m proud of my hockey name. I’ve worked hard to become one of the best goalies in the league. So hard I’ve pushed anything personal to the back burner, but damn, Eloise makes me second-guess that decision. Because she’s marrying some other guy right now.

I lean over to check the time on the car dash. In five minutes, my opportunity will be gone.

We pass the sign that says we’re entering Winnetka, and my heart hammers.

Alvin pats my shoulder from the seat behind me and holds out a flask. “Liquid courage?”

Theo smiles next to me, and I accept the flask, downing a few swigs.

“Thanks,” I say, handing it back to him, but Theo snatches it and downs a shot worth.

I watch the GPS on the Uber’s dashboard, which says we’re only two minutes away.

“We’re getting close,” Simon says, running his palms together.

Alvin puts his hands on my shoulders, massaging me as if I’m getting ready to enter a boxing ring. “You’re fucking Conor Nilsen. This is your moment.”

Simon and Theo join in with encouraging comments, as if I’ll be facing the heavyweight champion in a second.

“What the fuck is going on?” Tweetie glares at us over his shoulder.

We pull up to the church, and I open the van door, knowing I have little time left.

“Why are we at a church?” Tweetie shouts, getting out of the van. “Oh shit, no, Pinkie.” He rushes in front of me on the sidewalk leading to the steps, putting his hand on my chest. “You can’t do this.” His gaze zeros in over my shoulder. “What are you assholes thinking?”

“He likes this girl. They had an instant connection. You can’t stand in the way of true love!” Simon says.

“You thought you wanted that Aubrie girl last year. And where is she now?” Tweetie asks Alvin.

I use Tweetie’s momentary distraction to get around him, and I jog up the church’s stairs, pushing through the door. The entry area is quiet, so I burst through the next set of doors, bending over to catch my breath.

I hear some people gasp, and I hold up my hand for a second before standing straight and searching out Eloise. She’s at the altar, next to who I assume is Tristan, the douchebag.

“I object!”

More whispers and yells surround me.

“Oh, fucking hell,” Tweetie says from behind me.

Henry and Rowan push out of a pew and hurry over to me.

“Conor, what the hell?” Henry says.

“You let him come here?” Rowan asks Tweetie.

Tweetie raises both his hands. “Listen, I’ll admit that something like this has me written all over it, but I swear I had nothing to do with it. It was the chipmunks. They got him shitfaced and talked him into it. Even I wouldn’t let him do something this stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” I say, waiting for Eloise to respond.

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