my.paperback.head

part fifty nine.

Tegan was one hundred percent right about the timeline before the ceremony. She knew what she was talking about when she mentioned that we’d get there on time and then end up sitting for hours. Part of me wonders what she was so concerned with, there was no way that we would have been late to the ceremony— but that didn’t stop Tegan from freaking out about everything.

Her panicked state started after she got done showering. She became increasingly agitated while she waited for me to take my own shower and was a wreck by the time I finished. She was paranoid that we’d forget something and kept demanding that we scrutinize every detail so that we wouldn’t neglect anything.

Thus, we checked (and rechecked) to make sure that we had all the components of our outfits, safely stowed in garment bags, so that we could get dressed once we got to the venue. She heckled me needlessly as I gathered up our things and didn’t stop until we were out of flat and headed to the Botanical Gardens. We allowed extra minutes for traffic and parking— just to be sure that we would be here on time. Because of all the running around and worrying, we ended up arriving super early for the ceremony.

I can’t blame my sister though. I would be just as nervous and probably ten times more neurotic if this was my wedding day. I know Tegan wanted to make sure that she had the opportunity to fully prepare herself for the ceremony, which is why we’re here way ahead of schedule. I have to be supportive and understanding so I just let her have her chance to decompress and try to digest the magnitude of the day. 

However, the extra time we have before the ceremony is now spent worrying.

Tegan is nervous and anxious. I can hear her mumbling under her breath, going over her vows again and again. I am restless and listless, barely able to stay in one place. I try not to wonder where Jamie is any given moment. I’m on edge because I don’t know when she’ll suddenly come into view and upset my whole existence. Again.

I beg myself to remain calm and focus on Tegan. I remind myself to breathe. I try not to panic. 

__________________________

We wait in a small greenhouse set aside for the wedding party. I sit by the largest window and watch Catherine sprint around. She’s doing her damnedest to make sure everything is perfect. I smooth out the material of my black dress pants, trying to avoid any wrinkles. A persistent movement nearby distracts me, causing me to glance over at my twin.

Tegan sips a cocktail and paces around. She has been doing this same repetitive action for the last forty-five minutes. The ice in her glass clinks every time her body swivels as she walks back and forth across the greenhouse floor. Her mouth moves, with only whispers emerging past her nervous lips. I hear syllables that sound like words of love and promises of forever, but she speaks so low that it’s hard to tell. We still have at least hour before the ceremony is slated to begin, but she seems to be getting more nervous by the second.

“You want to sit down?” I ask for the fifth time, somewhat annoyed. She’s making my head spin with her quick movement. “We have time… you can take a breather.”

Tegan just shakes her head repeatedly and plays with the unknotted bow tie around her neck. “I can’t sit,” she mumbles, clinking the ice in her drink again. “I’ll crease my pants if I do that. I can’t have creased pants on my wedding day. I want to look perfect, Sara. I have to be perfect today.” I nod to placate her as Tegan carries on. “I’m getting married in an hour. One hour.”

Her eyes are wide and I meet them with my own. I shoot her a small reassuring smile. “I know, Tee. You’ve been talking about marrying Lindsey for so long— I can barely believe that today’s the day. Aren’t you happy?” I ask honestly, fiddling with my own unfastened pink bow tie.

Tegan stops mid-stride, dead silent. I struggle to read her body language and examine her for clues as to why she’s standing there, rigid. 

For a second, my heart drops in my chest. I worry that she’s going to tell me something terrible, answer with a response that she regrets what is about to happen, admit that she’s not quite sure. I swallow hard, unsure about what I would even respond to that.

I never give Tegan enough credit.

She snaps her head to look at me, insulted that I’d even ask her if she was happy that her wedding day was upon us. I feel guilty for a moment, shamed that I underestimated the strength of her character. I owe her more than that, I know.  

“Of course I’m happy. Are you insane?” she gawks at me. “I’m fucking ecstatic that I’m marrying Lindsey today. I’m so filled with crazy butterflies that I just don’t know what to do with myself for this hour. I want to fast forward time and be at that altar already.” I don’t say anything in response, letting her speak. Tegan starts her pacing again. “And I’m terrified that I’m going to throw up. I’m so nervous I could puke.” She shifts the ice in her glass again, the amber liquid swirling languidly.

I shrug my shoulders at her. “Maybe you shouldn’t be drinking,” I advise. “You don’t want to vomit all over your bride on your wedding day.” Tegan stops her steps and pauses to look down at her rum and cola. I hold my hand out to her, my palm open, and nonverbally gesture for the drink.

“It’s helping with my anxiety. I won’t puke on Lindsey either. If I start to, I’ll just swallow it down,” she jokingly grumbles, refusing to relinquish her grasp on the glass. She takes the opportunity to change the subject. “Let’s just run through everything again. Please?”

I nod, unwilling to add to her stress. “Ok. We’ll run through it,” I agree. I try to remember everything that has to be taken care of before the ceremony starts. “Um… first of all, you’re all dressed, right?” Tegan nods and gestures to her outfit.

I have to admit, my twin resembles a sparkling new penny. Tegan looks wholly  impressive today. Her black and white wing tip shoes are polished and so shiny you can see your reflection in them. Her pants are expertly tailored and ironed; she looks trim and sleek in them. Her crisp white shirt is tucked into her pants without sacrificing any of its starched perfection. She’s rolled her sleeves up just slightly, giving her overall appearance a more relaxed look. Her pink suspenders are adjusted to the correct tightness and complete the outfit nicely. The only this amiss is her bowtie, which she’s asked me to knot for her just before the ceremony starts. Her hair is slightly tidier than it normally is, but still in the style she likes to wear it. I almost feel like a proud parent, feeling overwhelmed at now nice she looks.

I study her briefly before nodding approvingly. “You look great, Tee. Seriously.” She smiles bashfully. Returning her grin, I get back on task. “Um ok. You’ve showered right?” She nods. “Deodorant and cologne?” She sniffs her underarms with a laugh and then nods her head again. “Vows?” I ask her finally.

Tegan points to her head. “They’re up here, sis. I’ve been practicing them for weeks now. I know them by heart.”

I can’t think of anything more on our checklist. “Well… then I think you’re good,” I reassure her. “I don’t know what else we might have forgotten.”

Tegan’s head snaps and her eyes widen once they find mine. “The rings. I don’t have the rings.”

I furrow my brows. Shit. Tegan was supposed to give the rings to me for safekeeping. I was in charge of handing them over during that portion of the ceremony. Except, I don’t have them. “Where are they?” I ask her as she starts pacing again.

“Lindsey has them. You have to go find her and get them.” 

I nod and stand up from my seat. I smooth my pants again and urge Tegan to relax. “It’s fine— I’ll go get them. Lindsey is just in the other building next door. I’ll be right back.” I head to the exit, but turn back before I leave. “Don’t go all Runaway Bride on me, ok?” Tegan looks like she wants to snap on me due to her nerves, but she doesn’t. Instead she rolls her eyes and keeps pacing. 

I wonder, for a split second, where Jamie is… before remembering that I don’t have time for that. I have to find Lindsey and get the rings. I have to make sure Tegan is standing at that altar, looking flawless and ready to embark on the rest of her life. I have to keep my head on straight and not watch for those unforgettable blue eyes or that head of blonde hair. I have to. I can’t do this neurotic, lovesick puppy thing with her… not today. Not when there’s so much at stake. 

I open the door and venture out of my little safe haven. 

part fifty eight.

I don’t dream the night before the wedding. My head is empty and my mind completely clear when my eyes flutter open. This is somewhat unusual for me; the night before a major event, I tend to have a dream-filled sleep. My overwrought subconscious, so full of worries, manifests my anxieties by staying busy all night. The evening before our first tour, I dreamed about screaming skeletons and my teeth all falling out. I woke up more tired than when I went to bed. More often than not, when the last moments of my day are spent wondering about the next— I would have some terrible nightmare. But last night’s sleep was devoid of anything. I wake up from nothing.

Keeping my eyes shut, I vaguely recall the previous evening and laying awake in the dark. I put Tegan to sleep in the guest room and climbed into my own bed. I held the dinosaur blanket underneath my nose and inhaled deeply. It was one of the secret moments of my day that belonged to only me and no one else. I could allow myself to finally be vulnerable, to drop my guard against everyone else. I gave in, for the only time all day, to my dark thoughts about seeing her for the first time since the incident in Los Angeles… where I watched her kiss someone else and my heart imploded inside my chest.

Part of me was excited, sure. Ecstatic perhaps. As much strife as our relationship had caused me post-break up… I still miss her everyday. I would still jump at any opportunity to spend time with her again.

But there’s more to it. An even bigger part of me, one that usually goes unvocalized, was scared shitless. I remember thinking to myself that I could be smelling the same scent, the one that was embedded in the blanket, in person the next day.

Maybe I would hug her, holding our bodies flush against each other for the first time in ages. We’d be so close that I could feel her pulse as her neck pressed against my chin in the midst of our embrace…

Maybe we’d share a solitary dance. I’d offer her my hand and lead her out on the floor, like some scene in a classic novel. We’d gingerly behind to sway until our bodies resumed the natural rhythm we’d always had together…

But maybe she’d stay away and I wouldn’t experience her essence at all. Maybe I wouldn’t inhale her, our bodies pressed close, and become lost in the redolence of our past together. Maybe she’d keep away from me, not wanting to have to deal with the thick fog of awkwardness and tension that was sure to blanket us when we saw each other.

I had no way of knowing… and that’s probably what frightened me so badly. Even if I can’t see her in real life, I thought that she would have at least been there in my dreams, filling my psyche with her presence. But she wasn’t even there. Was this some sort of sign? I wonder. I have nothing else to cling to… but the promise of her in my dreams. And now I don’t even have that.

_____________________________

I must doze off after my morning freak-out, because suddenly I snap awake again. I feel the hot burn of daylight on my face. I turn my head and glance toward the window; I can see outside through the slats in my blinds. The sun is shining brightly, without a single cloud marring the endless blue sky. I smile, rubbing my eyes as I stretch out, my joints popping and crackling with sleep. Lindsey will be so pleased, I think to myself, she has been worried all week about the weather.

Then I remember what today is. Tegan and Lindsey are getting married today, I realize. It is a huge, important day and, judging by the clock, one that needs to get started. I slept later than I intended and scramble out of bed to find my sister.

I anticipate that Tegan is going to be a grouch and difficult to wake up. She might even be hungover, due to the sheer amount of alcohol she drank last night. But as I head to the guest room, I find the futon empty. The only evidence she was even there are the blankets and pillows she left strewn about.

“I’ve been up for two hours already,” I hear behind me. Turning around, I spot Tegan standing in my kitchen, wide-awake. Her hair is a mess and she’s wearing an oversized teeshirt she borrowed from me. Despite her unkempt appearance, she has this silly grin plastered on her face. Her joy is too great to keep within herself; she radiant and bursting at the seams. “I made coffee and waffles.”

I join her in the kitchen, ignoring the sizable mess she made while making breakfast. Tegan knows my flat as well as I do and immediately heads to the far cabinet to grab me a mug. I yawn as she pours me some coffee. “And here I was worrying that I’d have to pry you out of bed,” I tease, readily accepting the cup that she offers me. “I guess I was wrong.” Not even my playful comment can cause the smile on her face to falter. She is impenetrable today. Tegan heads to the counter as I doctor my coffee to my liking. With a flick of her wrist, she dollops some thick substance from a bowl onto the waffle iron she has sitting open. I can hear the sizzle of the batter as she closes the hinge and waits for my breakfast to cook.

After making sure the waffle iron is hot enough, she grins at me again. She has a glow about her face that is positively luminous. “Hell yes you were wrong, Sara. You underestimated me and the power of a good cup of coffee,” Tegan corrects with a wink. “I couldn’t wait to get this day started— I could barely sleep last night. I’m getting married today, in a handful of hours. I’ve never been more excited in my entire life. It’s like… Christmas and my birthday rolled into one.” Her jocund attitude is infectious and unrelenting. She eyes the iron on the counter and watches for the small red light on it to switch off, indicating that the waffle is ready.

I sit down at the bar on one of the stools and watch as she plates a waffle for me. She is humming, I realize. The joy she feels is barely containable in her skin. I bite into the food after covering it with some syrup. The waffle tastes delicious and puts me in a good mood to match my twin’s.

Tegan just sits and watches me eat, humming and grinning.

Finally she interrupts as I am starting on my third waffle. “So… I’m going to go shower. We have to be at the garden by noon. Then we will probably sit around while Catherine freaks out over last minute issues. All I know is I have to be standing there at that altar by two ‘o’ clock sharp. And you’ve gotta be standing there with me.” I nod and rigidly salute her. Tegan just rolls her eyes and grabs her bag from the couch before heading to the bathroom.

While she’s showering, I clean up around the kitchen and tidy the flat. I do the dishes and down another cup of coffee while enjoying the endearing sounds of Tegan singing in the shower. I make my bed and fold up the covers in the guest room. Before long, my place is spotless. I take a small amount of pride from a job well done and survey my now-tidy kingdom. No one is going to see it besides me and Tegan, but still— it’s a nice feeling.

My hands want to keep busy so that I don’t get lost in my head. My body is listless and full of energy. So many things are going to happen today, I remind myself. Tegan is finally getting married. It’s going to be hectic all day, with almost every minute planned out (courtesy of Catherine). There will be dozens of people constantly surrounding me: family I haven’t seen in ages, old friends who have come in town for the event, Lindsey’s relatives that I’ve never met. I will have to smile and be cordial to guests, engaging in small talk and listening to the same comments about the lovely ceremony over and over again. I will be sociable and gregarious— regardless if I want to be or not.

I will have to deal with the knowledge that Jamie will be somewhere in that swarm of people. That’s probably why I’m so nervous, I think. My first priority can’t be to locate her and obsess over things. It has to be Tegan and Lindsey—and being there for them. They don’t need drama at their wedding, for fuck’s sake.

I make myself promise to be present in my interactions and to not let my personal theatrics interfere with today.

I have to be a good sister first… and a hopeless romantic second.

Anonymous asked: OH MY GOD YOU ARE SO AMAZING

OMG SO ARE YOU.

Anonymous asked: Whereabouts are you from? Because you say you post at 2pm your time, but i cannot work out what time that is for me in England.

Haha sorry— I’m from the United States, in the Midwest. I put “central standard time” usually but if you’re not from the states than that might make no sense.

I’m pretty sure London is about 6 hours ahead of the midwest. Eight pm your time— 2 pm my time. Does this make more sense?

johnkateston asked: I CAN'T DEAL WITH ALL THESE EMOTIONS YOU'RE KILLING ME

😬OMG FEELS😬

smilebeforedawn asked: It has certainly delighted me because I am all caught up and I just caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan't. This is seriously spectacular, really. I have no words. There were things that I did NOT see coming and it sucker punched me. Though painful, it was glorious lol. You're a fantastic writer and please just write a novel already. Also I am feigning for part 58. I. Can't. Wait.

I am so happy that you’ve enjoyed the story and are completely caught up. I’m looking forward to reactions about tomorrow’s chapter already.

Anonymous asked: Part fifty eight is going to be good right? Because your posting it on my birthday and I need this to be good because school is going to be hell

Part Fifty Eight is building up to the wedding— and involves some important sisterly bonding moments.

I know a lot of readers are sort of feeling like “get to the wedding already!” Or “get Sara and Jamie back together now!” I hope that it has become clear that my story isn’t about instant gratification— it’s about the slow burn and the rising tension. It smolders instead of igniting and then fizzling out. That way, when something major does happen, the reader feels genuine satisfaction because they have had the experience of exploring that journey with the characters, understanding the thought processes of those involved and watching it all unfold cryptically before them. I don’t want a lot of needless forced action and manufactured theatrics. I want a story that evolves and takes time to come to fruition.

I hope all my readers want that too.

Anonymous asked: counting the minutes "part fifty 8" be posted!

never fear, anon. i just spent an hour editing and queuing it for tuesday. it’s ready to go. 

our-memories-defeat-us asked: This is perfect oh my. I keep rereading it. I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MY LIVE ANYMORE

… pine away each week until a new chapter is posted, maybe?

Just a thought.