Oh my god. I can't stop laughing.
"Fucking grown-ups." She shakes her head and takes a sip. "You're all terrible. Your generation didn't invent masturbation!"
"Aren't we the same generation?"
"Whatever! The point stands."
A woman in a long wine-colored dress looks our way. She stands tall and proud, the way Simon does. Regal, powerful, gorgeous.
She stands out. Not just because she’s wearing that dress. And not just because she's the only Black woman at the party, besides her mom. Because she magnetically attracts attention.
The way Simon does.
Her dark eyes meet mine and she looks away to Opal.
Opal notices. "Vanessa, hey! How are you?"
"Busy." She offers her hand.
Opal pulls her into a tight hug. "You look amazing."
"You do," I say.
She turns to me. "Briar, right?"
I nod and offer my hand. We've met before, but only in professional circumstances. Never family events.
I've seen her around. She's Lee's step-sister, but they're as close as any biological sisters. She's at most family events.
But she's usually with Lee.
And Lee is…
Well, Lee is Lee.
She shakes with a friendly nod. Looks to the bar, where Simon and Liam are still in conversation, still maintaining an air of civility.
There's something in her eyes, but I can't tell if it's yearning, curiosity, or hatred. She's rocking an excellent poker face. As good as Simon's.
"Did you say hi? He'd love to hear from you," Opal says.
"I don't think he would." She looks to me.
"He would. He talks about you all the time," Opal says.
Her laugh is knowing. "I can imagine."
Can she?
She's staring at him like she wants to tear his clothes off. Does she hate him as much as Liam claims?
Or is there something else there?
"What's it like, being the sister of the bride?" Opal asks.
"Exhausting. But good exhausting," she says.
"You'll be relieved tomorrow evening?" Opal asks.
"Very." Vanessa turns to the ballroom—seriously, there's a ballroom—as Lee enters.
Lee spins until her dress twirls, then steps onto the patio. She looks gorgeous, her long blond hair in neat waves, her chiffon dress blowing in the breeze.
She spots her sister with a smile. "Vanessa. You're already here." She squeezes her with a tight hug. "And Briar. What a fabulous dress. I wish I had the guts to pull off that hairstyle."
Opal's lips curl into a frown. "She looks hot, right?"
"Very sexy, yes. I wouldn't expect anything else." Lee smiles with her usual evil glee.
Or maybe that's my hate. Maybe she means it as a compliment. There's a universe where that's a compliment.
If Liam whispered it in my ear as he slid his hand under my dress—
That would be hot as fuck.
But this?
Whatever.
I'm happy Harrison is happy.
"I know. I wish I was more like Briar. I care too much about what people think. There was this mean girl at my school. You know the type?" Opal pauses for a split second, to let the implications land, then she continues. "She would always insult my hair or my makeup or my clothes. And we wore uniforms, so that took a lot of effort. I let it get to me all year. Even at the prom. Then, when the night was winding down, I saw her in the bathroom crying. And I thought, yes, finally, I can get my revenge, and take her down, right?"
"Of course." Lee nods.
"I opened my mouth, ready to destroy her, but I didn't. I didn't want to. I asked if she was okay. And she just started bawling. Her boyfriend—this older guy, a college guy—didn't show up, because he didn't want his friends to know he was dating a high school girl. He was dragging her around, using her, making her feel like shit. And I hadn't been there, exactly, but I understood. I told her it was okay. I even gave her a hug."
"Really?" I ask.
"Yeah. And she still insulted my dress at graduation. But I didn't care," Opal says. "I saw through her. I saw that it didn't matter." She directs the words at Lee, specifically.
But Lee doesn't seem to see herself in the story. "It's good of you to take the high road." She squeezes her sister's hand. "It's a hard thing to do."
Uh… okay. I guess that's good advice. Or it would be from someone else.
"Thanks." Opal smiles.
"Do you have a picture of the dress?" I ask.
"Why? Do you want to critique it too? I swear, Briar, if you insult my dress after asking about my masturbation habits, you're going to be my least favorite sister-in-law."
"Below Danielle?" I ask.
"Way below. She always compliments my outfits." She stage whispers. "I know you're way more fashionable, but still…"
"That's why I want to see."
"You'll be nice?" she asks.
Vanessa's eyes flit from us to Simon's.
He catches her staring.
She turns to us, turns her back to him, but he does nothing to hide his attention.
He watches the four of us gather around Opal's cell to look at her dress.