Page 133 of Never Not Friends

“Juliet, you shouldn’t have,” I gasp.

She laughs. “You don’t even know what it is yet.”

“Yeah, but it’s your wedding day. We’re supposed to give you things.”

“Oh, just open it.” She hands each one of us a bag.

We pull out tissue paper and a small square box.

Blair opens it first. “This is pretty.”

“Emma’s is a little different than the other three because she’s had to do so much to help with the wedding,” Juliet explains.

I lift the lid and see the same delicate bracelet lined with black stones, but two tiny charms hang from it. I pick them up between my fingers.

Two houses.

My eyes swing to her.

She shrugs. “I’m so glad I moved in next door to you in the third grade.”

A laugh slips through the emotion gathering in my throat. “This is the nicest thing ever.”

“Don’t cry!” She points at me. “We can’t have a makeup catastrophe right now, especially me.”

“Okay, okay!” I blink multiple times to keep it at bay.

She grabs the bracelet and fastens it around my wrist. “There.” A satisfied smile rests on her mouth. “Now, our houses will always be right next to each other no matter what happens.”

I pull her into a hug. “Thank you.”

“I love you,” she says, hugging me back.

“I love you too.”

And that’s the whole terrible problem with Vinny, isn’t it?

I love Juliet too.

There’s a knock at the door before it opens.

Sandy peeks her head inside and smiles. “It’s time to line up.” She walks over to Kayleen. “I’ll take your mom out. You ladies can follow me.” She nods at Juliet. “Your dad will be here shortly to escort you.”

We each give Juliet a quick hug and tell her good luck, then we follow Sandy out the door. And somewhere in that forty-second walk from the bridal house, across the courtyard, to the main building, I lose my grasp on everything.

I’m left alone with my thoughts.

Reality sets in.

The heaviness returns with a vengeance.

My steps halt, and I grab Carly’s hand.

“Em?” She turns to me. “You’re white as a ghost.”

An onslaught of nausea swirls inside my stomach. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

I clasp my hand over my mouth to try to stop whatever’s coming. But it’s no use. I lean over a hedge of plants and throw up.