Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 69371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
"Happy birthday, sweetheart," my mother says, hugging me. I bend to hug her, but my arms stay limp at my sides. Maybe I'm having a stroke, I think to myself when the back of my neck starts to get hotter, and all I can hear is a deep buzzing in my ears.
"Do you want to say hello to everyone now?" Shelby asks me once my mother lets me go. "Or do you want to change?"
"I think she should change,” Presley answers for me when I take way too long to respond, and all I can do is smile at everyone and wave awkwardly. I'm literally going to kill them all.
"Okay," Shelby says, putting a smile on her face. "We are going for a quick change, and then we will be out." She puts her arm around my shoulders and ushers me to the side, where the bride's room is located.
"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" I look down at the pants and shirt that I thought would match my idea of what I thought my party was going to be.
"Um," Presley says, “it’s a little more formal.”
She opens the suite door, and black and white balloons are everywhere with the giant black 3-0 balloons. I walk into the room and see the bottle of champagne in the middle of the table. My feet move at the same time as my head is screaming at me to run. I grab the bottle and just bring it straight to my lips.
"Is she going to be okay?" Shelby leans over to whisper to Presley, who just looks at me with wide eyes.
"She'll be fine as long as we just keep feeding her booze.” Presley walks into the room and closes the door, then turns to look at me. "On a scale of one to ten, how bad do you want to freak out right now?"
"A solid five billion," I reply honestly, then take another five gulps of the champagne as if it's water. Knowing that this is a very bad idea.
"Okay, well, you can't do anything about it now,” Shelby says, walking into the room and going over to the curtain that blocks the glam area. "So why don't we get you into your outfit and get this over with?"
I bring the bottle back up to my lips and try to calm myself down when I see the outfit. "Is that a fucking wedding dress?" I shriek, looking at the long-sleeved floor-length white gown.
"Pfft." Presley rolls her eyes. "No." I just look at her. "Fine, it might have been on the rack, but we were told it could be just a regular gown." I just stare at her. I don't even know if I'm blinking at this point.
"Are you out of your mind?" I try to keep my voice from rising, knowing that people can probably hear us. “If you say this is a surprise wedding, I’m going to throat punch you both.” I hold the bottle in my hand. “And then shank you both with this.” I move my wrist, looking at the bottle.
"As if,” Shelby snorts. "If we did that, we wouldn't be telling you with a room full of windows that you could break through."
"Yeah." Walking to me, Presley grabs the bottle of champagne and takes her own drink. "If we did that, we would do it in a padded concrete cell so you wouldn't be able to run." She winks at me, and I grab the bottle away from her.
"Get your own," I say, taking another couple of gulps.
"Just relax." Shelby puts her arm around my shoulders as she ushers me to the room. "We asked everyone to wear black so you would stand out." I look at both of them and take in their black dresses that I should have known were too formal for my dinner. "Now, why don't we get you dressed so we can get this whole thing over with. Then I can drink a lot of booze and take my husband home and have my way with him."
"I just threw up in my mouth,” Presley says. "I'm going to go out there and make sure everything is set."
"I don't think this is a good idea." Those words come from me. "I don't do well with being surprised."
"Oh, trust me, we know,” Presley replies. "It's why we pretended to have you plan it." She walks out the door, slamming it behind her.
"I hate her." I look at Shelby. "Ever since she gave up carbs, she's been a bitch."
"She isn't the only one,” Shelby says to me and tilts her head to the side.
"They say that your weight at thirty is going to be your weight your whole life," I remind her.
"Who?" She cocks her hip to the side and crosses her arms over her chest. "Who says this?"