āEveryoneās really worried about you, yāknow,ā Ava says, sliding into the booth opposite Sarah. Itās tight, even more so now theyāre both adults, and their knees knock against each other under the table. āMost people donāt bolt like this on their wedding day.ā
Sarah doesnāt say anything. She doesnāt need to, not when Avaās staring directly at her like this. Instead, she stabs at the bowl of fries in front of her until no more will fit on her fork, then shoves them all in her mouth.
āHot.ā Ava reaches across and grabs a couple for herself. āSo what am I telling Crockett? Oh God, and your mum too. Sheās going crazy.ā
Sarah shrugs. āWhatever you want. The dress is uncomfortable. Itās too sunny. Weāve been in a secret lesbian relationship for the last five years and weāre eloping tomorrow.ā
āRight. Something theyāll struggle to believe.ā
She takes a few more fries and fixes her eyes back on Sarah, studying her as she tries to figure out how she can fix this. Her makeupās been done, a compromise between Sarahās āas subtle as possible, pleaseā, and her momās āshe needs a classic look, full coverage, whatever youāve got,ā but it can only do so much. She looks exhausted, shoulders sagging and hair still fixed in the messy bun sheād put it in before breakfast. She hadnāt changed into her dress before slipping out the patio doors and walking into town, and the sleeves of her Yale sweater are pulled down over her hands, only adding to the aura of something being inexplicably wrong.
āLook, we can lie to your mum about whatās going on ā God knows weāve done it enough before ā but donāt you think Crockett deserves the truth?ā Her fingers are greasy from the fries, so she wipes them on a spare napkin, then pushes Sarahās sleeves back and takes both hands in her own. Itās a sensation she knows all too well, but something about it feels different today. Ava pushes that thought aside. āPlease, Sarah. Why did you run?ā
ā wedding!au
