I was being strangled. My mom didn't seem to care as she tightened the tie around my neck.

"The Lawrence's will be here in about an hour," she said, folding down the collar of my shirt. I gave up trying to dress myself, apparently nothing I did was quite perfect enough for her.

"You know if it's an open bar?"

She stopped messing with my shirt long enough to slit her eyes at me. "Stephen, none of your usual antics. When you're out in public you're representing our entire family. Don't make us look like fools."

Of course. Everything always came down to how the public perceived us. All my usual grievances about that piled up on my tongue, but I bit them back. It wasn't in me to have that fight again.

After embarrassing myself in front of Waverly last night I knew for sure my game was off. She did something to me. In just a short few weeks she had me questioning myself. I never wanted a serious relationship, but the idea of having Waverly at my side didn't sound too bad.

Shit, at that point I would've even settled at just being her friend. Anything just to have her in my life.

"Yeah, okay," I told her.

She tilted her head to the side, eyes questioning.

"What?"

She lightly shook her head smoothing her hands over the shoulders of my suit jacket. "Nothing. Just admiring the fact that you're not in sports wear."

"Happy to know my suffering isn't in vain," I mumbled, loosening my tie a bit. When my mom narrowed her eyes at me I reminded her I needed to be able to breathe.

"Anyways, I'll be downtown looking at dresses with Alicia."

I tried not to roll my eyes. It was really happening. She had the venue, the colors, flowers and after that day she might have had the dress. I was hoping she'd realize how dumb it all was before anything finalized.

Then I realized what she said.

"Just you two?" I asked before I could stop myself.

"Yes. I decided to give Waverly and her friend some time off," she said, smoothing out none existent wrinkles on my suit. "They're young, they should be enjoying their summer not spending all of it planning a wedding. They said they planned on going to the beach."

That was uncharacteristically nice of her.

"Don't look at me like that," she said, placing her hand on her hip. "I can be nice when I want to."

"So, you choose to make my life hell?"

"Yes." She started to leave my room. "Don't mess this up, okay, Stephen? Make the right choices."

That was...weird. Maybe the wedding coming together had started to soften her up? Whatever it was had me on edge. I knew how to handle my mom when she was angry, but her being nice? It was foreign territory.

Shaking it off, I grabbed my phone from the charger and saw a few texts from Dev. Last night I gave him a heads up about my mom trying to set me up with Vanessa.

Dev:

Why would I care?

She hates you almost as much as she hates me

And you're still hung up on Waverly so I know nothing is going to happen

Even Dev noticed that since Waverly entered my life I haven't been myself. How was it possible for one person to come in and unravel everything you thought you were?

• • •

The Lawrence's arrived in a limousine. Vanessa was in the back sitting with a small purse in her lap, hands clasped. Sitting across from her were her parents and younger sister. Her dad and sister had the same red hair and light skin.

Mr. Lawrence nodded at me and turned back to the MacBook on his lap. His wife moved to stop him, then thought better of it. Instead she smiled at me apologetically. "Excuse my husband," she said. "Trying to separate him from his work is impossible."

I nodded, giving a small smile. The way they all grinned back at me made my skin crawl.

"The tie looks nice on you, Stephen," Vanessa said with a robotic smile.

I glanced down at the tie, realizing it matched perfectly with her blue dress. "Thanks," I said.

"Are you Nessa's boyfriend?" Her sister asked, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. She looked like she was about eleven.

"No." Vanessa and I said at the same time.

"Sit back, Jasmine," Mrs. Lawrence told her. "Don't wrinkle your dress, sweetie. Remember, knees together."

Jasmine did as she was told, assuming a position similar to Vanessa's. It was exhausting just watching them try so hard to look perfect.

I really hoped they had an open bar.

• • •

The wedding was in some kind of botanical garden. The smell of flowers kind of gave me a headache the minute we walked out there. Or maybe it was all the aunts and uncles and cousins asking about Vanessa's new boyfriend.

"He's just a friend," she'd tell them, but they weren't buying it. People only believed what they wanted to.

I tried to enjoy myself, or at least pretended to. I was roped into dancing by some handsy auntie and talked about basketball with one of Vanessa's uncles who refused to accept that I didn't want to play regardless of my height.

The ceremony itself was actually kind of cool, despite how hot it was out there. The bride rapped her vows, taking everyone by surprise and the cake was good. The bartender, however, couldn't be charmed into getting me a drink.

"You must be sick or something."

I glanced up from picking at the cake crumbs on my plate, meeting Vanessa's eyes. "What?"

She was eating cake with her hands, slouched down in her seat. Relaxed. It was the first time we'd been alone, I realized. Her mom not around to watch her like a hawk to make sure every piece of hair was in place. That gave Vanessa the chance to be the girl I knew when she was around Devon. No forced smile or perfect posture.

"Either you're sick or you don't find any of the girls here attractive."

I sat up, looking at her head on. "Why do you say that?"

"You're Stephen Davis," she said. "A flirt. Never without a girl for long. You haven't made a move on anyone, so something is obviously wrong."

I knew I had a reputation. What she said was true. On any other day I would've been the Stephen Davis she was talking about.

But something about her, or anyone else, thinking that was all I was, that if I wasn't that guy there was something wrong with me, didn't sit right with me.

Despite what I told Devon the other night, I didn't want to be known as the guy who slept around. Not anymore.

And that was why, in a stupid, desperate, attempt to reinvent myself, I told Vanessa about Waverly.

She laughed at first, thinking I was joking. I couldn't blame her for that. If you told me a month ago I would fall for a girl I met at a book festival I probably would've laughed too.

The heaviness that lifted off my shoulders after finally admitting what I felt out loud was proof that it wasn't a joke. Not to me.

"Wow, you're being serious." Vanessa gapped. "You actually like this girl. Why'd you agree to the wedding if you have feelings for someone else?"

I shrugged. "It was the only way my mom would let me off punishment."

"Okay, I'll try not to be offended by that," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Seriously though, I think if you told your mom you really like this girl she'd ease up."

"Or laugh in my face like you did."

She considered that for a minute. "You could tell Waverly how you feel. Maybe your mom is bluffing about firing people?"

She made telling someone you had feelings for them sound like talking about the weather. Like it was easy and not a terrifying show of vulnerability.

"And if she laughs at me?"

"Then you go home, tape a picture of her face on a punching bag and practice your boxing."

I wondered if she did that after Dev and her ended things. I was too afraid to ask, though. Her arms looked like Angela Bassett's.

"You should go," she continued. "Talk to her. I'll my mom you got a stomach ache or something."

My brow raised. "You just trying to get rid of me?"

She shrugged, taking another bite of her cake. "I was trying to be subtle about it."

• • •

On the Uber back home I debated whether or not I should keep the suit on when I talked to Waverly. Maybe she'd like it or maybe she'd think it was overkill.

The sun had just begun to set and wondered if Waverly was still at the beach as I rushed up to my room, deciding that I should change into something more comfortable. What I was about to do would be uncomfortable enough without the added stiffness of a suit and tie.

When I got to the landing, something caught my eye. Light, coming from my mom's writing office at the end of the hall.

I didn't see her car in the driveway, so I'd hoped she wasn't there. Maybe she parked in the garage? I went to the door, which was ajar, and nudged it open. "Mom?"

Empty.

I knew she had the room cleaned a few weeks ago, but I'd never actually seen her use it.

There were notebooks and a couple of her published books sitting on her desk, an open laptop at the center.

Was she writing again? After all these years?

The laptop flashed awake when I hit the power button. A word doc filled the screen. She was writing again. She had a couple thousand words down already. Forgetting my plan, or maybe I was stalling, I dropped down in the desk chair and read.