"I now pronounce you man and wife."

Zachary Crane applauded with the others as Meredith Trinette Levine—well, Meredith Trinette Chambers now—threw her arms around her husband and kissed him soundly. Across the dais, Christa Sternbacher grinned, clapping as best she could around her bridesmaid's bouquet; behind her, Arie had simply tucked hers under one arm. He couldn't see Derek because he was behind him, and Sajel and Jane and everyone's parents were tucked into the congregation somewhere, along with the thousand other people who had arrived—what, had they just invited everyone they ever met?—but he was sure they were cheering too.

Brandon and Meredith were just like that.

As the procession started out, the best man and maid of honor linked up behind the happy couple, Zach offering Christa his left arm. He fought to keep his right hand from checking his pocket. It had done so far too many times already in the past two hours. "They look really happy," he said.

"They do," she agreed. "And Meredith hardly shows at all."

"Well, it's only been three months."

"Yeah. But I know she didn't want to show."

"It wouldn't've mattered," he said. "Everyone knows."

"It would've mattered to her," she said, giving him a disparaging glance.

Zach repressed a sigh. For the millionth time this summer, he wondered if he would ever truly understand the female mind. With Christa and Meredith up to their ears in wedding preparations ever since they'd come back to Mount Hill, he'd had plenty of chances to discover just how out-of-touch he was.

He glanced Brandon—or rather, the back of his head, which was all that was visible outside the massive tuxedo. He doesn't seem confused. It's been smooth sailing for him, really. He fought a scowl. The back of your head doesn't have to look so insufferably smug about it.

Christa peeked at him. "Is everything okay, Zach? You've been... Jumpy, recently."

Zach kept his face impassive with an effort. "It's just, you know, the wedding. We've all been jumpy, recently."

Christa gave a rueful laugh. "Yeah, no kidding. Well, at least we get to relax now. A nice, sunny week at a four-star hotel with nothing on our minds."

Nothing on your mind, maybe.

The reception dinner was plagued by the traditional delays—servitors tripping over each other, the wrong foods ready at the wrong times, the DJ's equipment throwing sparks. Zach found himself in a chair in the corner, glowering. Christa was with Brandon and Meredith, entertaining guests in the center of the room. It was a role to which they were uniquely suited. Brandon and Christa had always been the most outgoing of them all, with Derek a close third; Zach, though he could make them laugh with the best of them, often found himself needing room. It had taken Christa months to convince him that humor was a form of defense for him, not friend-making. Or, at least, not just friend-making.

Derek, roaming, found him. "Everything all right, Zach? You seem... Really gloomy today."

Zach scowled. "Is it that obvious?"

"Something wrong with Christa?"

"Christa? Noooo. No." Nothing at all. Except for how sometimes I think I barely know her. "It's..."

Derek blinked at him in that damnably perceptive way he had.

Zach sighed. "You know, you're the second person to ask me that in half an hour. And you're the first person I'm going to tell the truth to.

He was half afraid the other man would crack a joke, but Derek was more sensitive than Zach had given him credit for. Though he did try a small poke. "You'd rather tell me than Christa?"

"Well. I can't exactly ask Christa about this." And he dug in his pocket for the ring.

Derek said nothing.

"It was my grandma's," said Zach. "She was going to give it to my first-born uncle, but there never were any uncles, so she gave it to my mom, to give to me."

"And now you're..."

"I've been stressing over it for months, man."

"Kind of weird timing, isn't it? I mean, with Brandon and Meredith—"

"Well, yeah, but, on the other hand, what better time?"

"Are you sure they aren't just, I dunno, influencing your mindset or something?"

"Me? Naaaw. Derek, I've been planning this for years. Well, maybe not planning, but I've known it'd happen. For... Well, at least since we've been in college." It was something he hadn't even admitted to Brandon.

Someone else might've made a poke at him, but Derek simply nodded. "She's definitely something."

"She is," Zach agreed, staring at the floor. "I just... Sometimes, when I see her laughing, or talking, or helping Meredith deal with some annoying salesperson, or... I have no idea how I got this lucky. To fall in love with a woman so..." He ran out of adjectives on the first try.

"And to have her fall in love with you," Derek finished.

Zach gestured. "Yeah."

"So," said Derek. "Now you gotta just wait. And, you know, not steal Brandon's and Meredith's thunder."

Zach laughed darkly. "Yeah, with this thing burning a hole in my pocket." He tucked the blue box away again. "I've had it for a month, you know? And we just... There's never been time. She's been so busy with the wedding—"

"We've all been busy," Derek said, smiling. "Does anyone know?"

"Well, my mom does," Zach said, "because I had to ask her for this, but other than that..."

Derek nodded. He understood. "And, is there anyone else you'd like to have know?"

Zach blinked at him. "...What?"

"As in," Derek said, "during the dancing and festivities and so on, is there anyone who should be coincidentally sent your way?"

"Oh," said Zach. "Oh. Naw, that's... That's all right. Thanks."

Derek smiled. "You sure? We could get Gavin in on it, for old times' sake."

"Gavin?" Zach said. "Is he here?"

"Sure is," said Derek. "Look over there, by Stasya and Camille and, um, whoever that is. I don't know him, he's from Greenfield."

"Oh yeah," said Zach. "Hunh."

"Just remember, you gotta do the toast," Derek said. "Best man's rights."

"Oh fuck!" said Zach.

"Don't worry, you did great at the rehearsal dinner last night," Derek said. "Do you remember what you said?"

"No!" said Zach.

Derek looked like he was trying not to grin—trying, and failing. "Well, good luck with that."

"Thanks!" said Zach ascerbically.

When everything was finally in order, Christa bustled the procession into place. She had agreed to take on most of the administrative duties of the night, which Meredith had given over gratefully. The DJ was on his microphone, drawing people into the dining hall. "If everyone could take their seats? If everyone could— Thank you. All right then, thank you." Zach glanced over: he recognized that voice. Sure enough, the mop of curly hair, the grin, the lanky frame— Gavin Strickland as MC? Would wonders never cease. "Well, folks, it looks like we're in for a long haul, speeches, wedding party, dancing, so on, so in the interests of world peace, the bar is offering free drinks for the next five minutes—" It was a tasteless joke, but a lot of people laughed—which meant all was well, as far as Zach was concerned, except for how Christa gave Gavin a mighty glare. Well, he supposed you couldn't please everybody.

"The parents of the bride," said Gavin, "Mr. and Mrs. Roger Levine." Meredith's parents entered the room, proud and happy.

"Now, as I understand it, the groom's parents have been something of a stick-in-the-mud about all this, but someone has kindly—and bravely—agreed to stand in for them. So, as the pretending-to-be-the-parents-of-the-groom: Dr. Yvette Zelvetti."

Their high-school principal came past them, grinning from ear to ear.

"You're not his mother!" Derek exclaimed. "I've met the woman, you're not his mother!"

"No, 'course not," said Dr. Z, giving him a duh expression in return. "I'm his father!"

"The bridesmaid and groomsman, Arie Chang and Derek Strong."

"I hope they're gonna be okay with each other," Christa murmured above the applause. "I asked Derek if he wouldn't rather sit where I am, but he said that we should be together."

"Brave of him," said Zach. Things had not been especially good between Arie and Derek since their explosive break-up just before college started. Zach didn't precisely know what had caused it; only two people did, and they weren't talking. To sit next to each other—these two who had probably once been sure that one day, they'd be in the center seats of the head table, together, these two who were now hardly sure of anything except that they never would be—that took more courage than Zach thought he had, unless he was drunk. And maybe even then.

"The best man and the maid of honor: Zachary Crane and Christa Sternbacher!"

Zach felt Christa's hand tighten on his own. He glanced down and saw her beaming.

He felt very strangely exposed as they crossed the room.

"And, finally, ladies and gentlemen, if we could stand and welcome the happy couple themselves, Mr. and Mrs. Brandon and Meredith Chambers!"

And there they were: Brandon in his tuxedo of dusky blue, Meredith in sheer white, both radiantly happy. Brandon appeared to be struggling to keep a loopy sort of grin from his face, and not precisely succeeding; and Meredith had the sort of inner glow a woman only got from being three months along. There was clapping, and cheering, and the clinking of glasses.

God help us, they're children, Zach thought.

God help us, we're all children.

The food was good; Mr. and Mrs. Levine had spared no expense, and Brandon and Meredith had dipped into their own savings besides. And there was alcohol, even though most of the guests weren't yet twenty-one and Meredith in fact was still nineteen. Zach didn't care; he thought he might need it.

Christa nudged him. "It's time."

Oh great.

He stood up, and someone handed him a microphone. He couldn't help feeling that everyone could see the bulge in his pocket from the blue velvet box, though he had checked himself in the mirror several times to make sure it didn't show.

"Okay, um. I guess I've got to upstage Gavin over there. Of course Christa over here probably chose him just to make my life difficult." Everyone laughed, and he felt better.

"When they, um. When they told me I'd have to make some sort of speech at this little thingamajig, I was a bit, umm. A bit worried. Uh. Especially when they told me I couldn't write it down and read off a paper." Laughter. He'd actually ended up rehearsing for about three hours, and he had some vague idea of what he wanted to say. Not much of one, though. "But, I mean, come on. How do you explain what you think of two of the best people you know?

"I met Brandon in eighth grade, through a friend of mine. I didn't know him very well, 'cause he went to a different school at the time, but Rob said he'd be attending Mount Hill High in the fall. Brandon was pretty quiet back then, but he laughed at my jokes and I laughed at his and we both liked video games, and we were, you know, thirteen at the time. What else are you gonna ask for?" Laughter again.

"But it wasn't too long before my opinion of him changed. Some of you may not be aware, but when he was fourteen, Brandon tried to kill himself. Now, I realize that's really dark stuff to bring up at a wedding, but I'm doing it for a reason. I also, believe it or not, checked with our Mr. Chambers over here to see if it was okay to bring it up at all."

"And I didn't say Yes!" Brandon shouted, grinning, setting off another welter of laughter.

"Yes you did!" Zach retorted. "All right, so. Contrary to what this liar over here is trying to tell you, he did give me the okay to go and talk about it. And I'm going to, at least a little, because I think that the day I went to see him in the hospital was the first day I really met him.

"I came in with Sajel and Rob and Anna, just the four of us with my mom as a chaperone. Probably she was the only thing that got us in. I mean, you know, four scrawny teenagers, come to visit someone in the psych ward? But thank God for my mom, because they let us in, and about five minutes later we were looking at Brandon. He was strapped into this sterile white hospital bed in one of those blue paper gowns they make you wear, and there was machines and the television and a lot of electricity in the air, and he looked about two feet tall.

"And he woke up and said, 'Wow. You're the first people to come visit me.'

"And I said, Where are your parents?

"And he said, 'They don't care about me.'

"Brandon's a family man. He loves the people around him maybe more than he loves himself. I didn't know that at the time, but I think maybe I understood it, subconsciously. Because from then on, I was his friend. I just... Couldn't leave him like that. Not being swallowed by that hospital bed in a room smelling of rubbing alcohol. No one could've, probably. But only the four of us came. And of course we don't talk to Rob and Anna anymore, but I never liked 'em anyway." Laughter.

"So, folks. Here we are. Six years later. He's not in a hospital bed anymore. Fuck, he's, he's getting married. Look at him. He's sorta smirking at me. Okay, Brandon, stop that, I'm embarrassed enough as it is." Laughter.

"But, folks. He's come a long way. And a lot of that is because of the woman who is, coincidentally, sitting next to him.

"I've actually known Meredith for a lot longer than I have Brandon. We've gone to the same schools together since I was a fourth grader, when I moved into the area. I didn't know her well, especially because she was in a lower grade than me, but you know how it is with people you've spent years with—you pick things up about them. I knew she was musically talented, I knew she got good grades—once we got into seventh grade she started vaulting into all the advanced classes, so I saw her more and more, and then she skipped eighth grade entirely and entered Mount Hill the same time I did. And... She always seemed busy. Like, you know, How does she possibly get all this done? Doesn't she have any friends?

"Well, the answer was... Not particularly. Her best friend, Stasya Fyodorevna, got left behind when she came to high school a year early, and I can't imagine it was easy for her to acclimate. Actually, I know it wasn't, even after she got everything stabilized. Because, about a year after Brandon tried to commit suicide, Meredith tried the same thing."

There was silence again. Brandon looked at his wife in amazement.

"This one I definitely had to check with Meredith on," Zach said, "because up until about five seconds ago, Meredith had kept it so quiet that only nine people in the whole world knew about it, all of whom are up here at the head table. But Meredith said she wanted people to know. And that, since I was blowing all the juicy gossip on Brandon, I might as well do it for her as well." Subdued laughter.

"So, let's take a look. Two people, both feeling lonely. Both misunderstood. Both at extreme odds with their parents much of the time. Both outsiders in the notoriously cliquish hell known as high school—Meredith for her brains, Brandon for being the freak boy. Is it any wonder these two got together?

"But most stories end there. They got together, it didn't work, they broke up. That's obviously not how this story ends. Because Brandon and Meredith, together, managed to bring out a lot more of each other, and themselves, than anyone thought they could. Than any of us even knew existed.

"And so, here we are. Six years later. All the secrets are out. They wanted to come clean, through me, and say, this is who we were. Because now they're something different. They're not Brandon Chambers and Meredith Levine anymore. They're Brandon-and-Meredith, Meredith-and-Brandon, the Chamberses. Together.

"Six years ago, looking at that hospital bed, I didn't think I'd ever see Brandon smiling the way he is now, unless they put him back on Vicoden. And seeing Meredith, that shy girl with no friends, I didn't think anyone would ever be able to reach through that shell of busyness and bustle and touch her heart.

"Well: I was wrong.

"And that makes me really glad."

He reached down with his other hand for his champagne glass. "To Brandon and Meredith. May there be many happy years ahead, for both of you."

A chorus of agreements and clinking glasses.

"And can I sit down and stop embarrassing myself now?" Laughter, and Gavin triggered a rim shot sound effect from the sound board.

Zach sat down, and Christa squeezed his hand, and Brandon said, "You embarrass yourself? What about me?—having to listen to you waxing rhapsodic about me and Meredith for half an hour."

"Aww, come on, you know you love it," Zach said. "Besides, that only took five minutes."

"Well, just you wait," said Brandon. "When I'm best man at your wedding, I'll have some choice things to say, I tell you that."

Zach felt a stiffening moment of panic. He hadn't told anyone except Derek—how did Brandon know? Derek knew to keep his mouth shut, didn't he?

Or maybe Brandon was just bantering. He and Meredith had always seen the bonds between their friends with great clarity; it might be obvious to them what Zach was thinking. And besides, when he and Christa did get married (because God only knew they were going to eventually), who else was he going to choose to be his best man? Sajel? (Well, that might work, but they'd have to change the terminology. Best woman? Maybe he should do it, just to annoy Brandon.)

Mrs. Andrea Levine had the microphone now. Her hair was the color of steel wool; beside her, Roger Levine's hair was a waxy white.

"Hi there. For those of you who don't know me, I'm Andrea Levine, Meredith's mother. With that in mind, I'd say it's safe to say I've known her for a little longer than most of you." Zach laughed with all the rest.

"I wanted to touch a little bit on what Zach said. Sometimes parents are the last to know when something's going on in their kids' lives, and that was the truth in our case. We didn't have any idea how unhappy Meredith was until the night she came to us and said, 'Mom, I slit my wrists and I need to go to the hospital.' We honestly had no idea.

"I've never met Brandon's parents—I don't think they've been back to see him since he was a junior in high school. But he, and those friends of his who have met them, told me enough about them that I don't think they were very good ones. Which raises the question: if it takes bad parents to make someone as unhappy as Brandon, what does that make me and my husband?"

There was silence.

"A few nights after Meredith's unexpected trip to the hospital, Roger and I stayed up talking almost all night. We had no idea where we'd gone wrong—our older son was already away at a drug rehab facility, and now we'd almost lost our daughter. It wasn't a fun night. And we made the decision then and there: Whatever it is we're doing wrong by our kids, it needs to stop.

"I don't know if it did. But, we've gotten a lot closer to Meredith since then, which I'd call at least some sort of success. And, after Brandon came into her life, we got quite a bit closer to him as well.

"Now we've come to the moment every mother awaits and dreads in equal measure: the time when she gives her daughter away to someone else. Now she isn't part of our lives anymore; now all her hopes and fears and dreams are invested in someone else. But I prefer to think of it another way.

"Meredith, though your house and home are with another, you will always have a home with us. And Brandon: we've known you ever since you came to pick Meredith up that bright October afternoon. We've loved you, because Meredith loves you and because you love her, but we've also loved you for yourself. And you, too, will always have a place with us. You, too, will always be a member of our family."

She sat down, and the clinking of wineglasses was mixed with applause. Zach sneaked a glance over and saw both Brandon and Meredith tearing up.

After that, there were the traditional dances. Zach knew Brandon had practiced—he and Christa had been dragged along for several of the lessions—but neither he nor Meredith was especially accomplished. They managed to avoid treading on each other's toes, though. Then Meredith danced with her father, while Brandon attempted (with some success) to keep dignity while dancing with Dr. Zelvetti. And after that, it was open season.

At any other time, Zach would've liked to keep track of who was dancing with whom—it was kind of fun to watch. Arie, for instance, danced a round with Brandon, who then (surprisingly) dragged Jane up for a very up-tempo sort of swing, which was an absolute disaster in terms of dancing but made them and everyone else laugh, so no harm done. He saw Jon Stanford get Caitlyn Delaney out on the floor, which surprised him a lot: both were such wallflowers in his estimation that being in the middle of everybody wasn't their thing. Zach wasn't like that. He loved being out in the middle of everybody. But he was a little too busy with his own issues right now.

Not long after her chaste, rather sisterly dance with Brandon, Arie wandered over. "So," she said. "Derek said I'm supposed to come talk to you."

"What?" said Zach, looking up suspiciously.

Arie sat down in Brandon's chair, between Zach and Meredith. "You tell him, hon."

"Oh," said Meredith, "does this have something to do with why you've been moping all day?"

"You know, weddings are a lot more fun if you pull your head out of your ass and enjoy them," Arie said.

"Right," Zach said angrily, "like you're having fun over there, sitting next to Derek."

Meredith gave him a look. "That was cruel, Zach."

Arie paled, but she said firmly, "Derek and I are friends. We were before we started dating, and we still are even though we aren't dating anymore. We've had issues in the past, and will probably continue to have issues in the future, but don't tell me you get along perfectly with Christa all the time, because we know that isn't true."

"And you're thinking of marrying her," Meredith said.

Zach scowled. "What, did Derek talk to you too?"

"What?" said Meredith.

"Oh, is that what this is about?" Arie asked.

"Wait— What??" said Meredith.

"How did you know?" Zach asked her.

Meredith shrugged. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Not to Christa, I hope, no," said Zach. "At least, not until I show her this."

Their reaction was different from Derek's, which he later realized he should've expected; they were, after all, girls. "It's beautiful," said Meredith, and Arie asked, "Where did you get it," and he had to explain that whole thing about his grandmother. It was a very nice ring—white gold, with stylized, double-lobed leaves clasping the diamond in the middle. One leaf was inlaid with green, the other red, and according to Zach's mother there was some significance in which color ended up on which side. Zach couldn't remember for the life of him.

"Isn't that a little unfair," Arie asked. "She just helped Meredith plan all this." She waved a vague hand at the wedding feast and almost hit a wineglass. "And then you're gonna dump another one on her almost immediately?"

"No, she'll love it," Meredith said. "Look at her." She pointed through a maze of leftover dishes at Christa, who seemed to have escaped the White Man's Dance Floor Curse and was currently having a ball with Jeff Gainesborough. "We're sitting down, because we're introverted. There's Brandon over there, talking with my parents. Sitting down." She waved. "Derek's over there with Sajel, and Jane is with Trevor and Jenny and Cassie. We're all mostly private people. Christa's the only one of us who really thrives on being the center of attention, on constantly having things going on. She loves being busy. Give her another wedding and she'll be ecstatic. Especially if it's hers."

Zach nodded. It was one of the reasons he loved her most.

"So, what's been stopping you?" Arie asked.

"Just... No time," said Zach. "You guys've been eyeballs-deep in this wedding thing for the past couple of months, I feel like I barely get the time of day out of her. I don't think we've slept in the same bed together in, like... I dunno, two or three weeks? And for sex, you gotta go back months. She always goes home to her parents instead of back to Brandon's place with us."

"Why?" said Arie.

"I dunno, really. She's just always, you know. Had problems with staying over at Brandon's place."

"Worried what her parents might think," Meredith agreed.

"Worried what his parents might think," Zach said, "after all that, you know, that stuff that happened junior year." He gave a laugh that wasn't really a laugh. "At least I've been sleeping well. She rolls around like crazy, you know? Kicks me in the kidneys every two minutes."

"There's something you don't find out about ahead of time," Meredith said.

"People should just have to wear signs that say, 'I sleep-flop,'" Arie said.

"Yeah," said Zach. "And then when—"

"Hey," Arie said sharply, and Zach tucked the ring back into his pocket. A good thing he did, too: Christa appeared.

"Zach!" she said. "Do you wanna dance?"

He knew he should. Christa had enjoyed the dancing lessons; she hadn't been the only one. It was the right thing to do—to reach out to her, to get over his deep blue funk and start being functional.

But he didn't want to.

"Sheesh," she said. "You know, Zach, this whole sulking thing isn't very attractive. Come out when you actually want to be a human being again." She spun away.

Meredith and Arie exchanged blinking shock.

"Yeah," said Zach. "And then, when we do talk, half the time it's like that."

"Are you sure that's the woman you wanna marry?" said Arie.

"I..." said Zach. No, was the simple answer. He wanted to marry the Christa he knew—the kind, outgoing, selfless woman he had fallen in love with. And he wasn't sure where she'd gone.

"Sometimes I feel like I don't know her at all anymore," he said, which wasn't an answer. But Arie and Meredith nodded as if it was one.

"Okay," said Meredith. "You know what?"

"What," Arie asked.

"It's time for an intervention." She stood up. "You—" She pointed at Zach. "—are going to stand up, and we are going to dance, and you are going to stop worrying about this, at least for the next few minutes."

"Meredith, are you— You're pregnant. Are you sure it's smart for you to be—"

"We double-checked that, the odds of something happening to this baby on a dance floor are extremely low. You're a much better dancer than Brandon. So come on. Arie, grab his other arm, help me." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Brandon looking over and nodding and smiling.

"All right," Zach grumbled, acquiescing with bad grace. "But I swear, if you two weren't my friends..."

"But we are," Arie said, "so you can't. So suck it, bitch." She grinned.

So he did, and—why was he surprised about this?—had fun. He'd always had a little bit of a thing for Meredith, and she'd always had a little bit of a thing for him, and everyone knew it, and all that meant was that when he had her in his arms, he appreciated what he had. And Brandon does too, and he'll treat her like gold. He's an incredibly lucky man. Of course, Meredith's lucky too.

What he hadn't counted on was Gavin throwing on the fastest dance he had, and Arie grabbing him and flinging him around like a maniac. He saw Brandon and Meredith laughing, and Sajel throwing catcalls, and Derek cracking up—in the few moments in which his vision wasn't being disrupted by high G-forces. When the dance ended, Arie turned to the guests gave a very prim curtsy, and Zach concealed a grin and played off the cue, tripping around like a drunkard and eventually landing on his ass. And there was laughter. Laughter was good.

And he danced after that, with whoever seemed likely and once even with Christa, and afterwards she kissed his cheek and he told himself to follow his own advice. If you know you oughta get out there and dance, then get out there and dance. You aren't solving anything sitting around feeling sorry for yourself.

When it was the cake-cutting ceremony, he tried to find Christa, only to find her in her administrative element, organizing a queue and moving the photographer into place with the air of a forklift. The photographer seemed bemused. So, come down to it, did Sajel. "She must be good at moving furniture around. Do you folks wake up in the morning and discover you live in a different apartment?"

"Just on occasion," said Zach. She was good at moving furniture. It brought out her Incredible-Hulk tendencies.

"So, I was informed by a little bird," Sajel said, "whom shall remain nameless but whose initials are Arie Wanshang Chang—I was informed by a little bird that there was something you might like to talk about. Oh, and I brought Jane along, just to meddle."

"Hi," said Jane, with a distinctly guiltless grin.

Zach found his eyes rolling of their own accord. Who next, Caitlyn Delaney? Would Derek make good on his idea to get Gavin involved? Would Dr. Zelvetti come over? "And what, perchance, did she say you should talk to me about?"

"Oh, well, she didn't say," Sajel said. "But I gather it's got something to do with the sort of gloomy cloud you've been wandering around in."

"Even I saw it," Jane said. And if she'd seen it, it must be visible. That was what she was saying.

Zach sighed. "Right. Right..."

"It's a happy occasion," Sajel said. "You ought to be celebrating."

"Or at least knocking people over with Arie," said Jane, grinning. "It was like being at a bowling alley."

"So," Sajel said. "Wanna explain what's curtailing your joy?"

"Cur my what? Did you just show up from the sixteenth century or something?"

"Yes," said Sajel, "I'm the special time-traveling Indian. I came all the way up to the twenty-first century so that you could tell me what's going on. So spill."

Zach gave a cautious glance at Christa, who was now supervising the rapid dicing of the cake, and faded himself back into the crowd. Then he dug into his pocket.

"Oh-hhhh," said Jane, and Sajel said, "Christa will like that. That's her taste in jewelry."

Christa has a taste in jewelry? "Okay." He put the box back in his pocket.

"But shouldn't that be a joyful thing too?" Jane asked. "I mean... You love her, right? And I'm pretty sure she loves you. Not that I've seen you guys regularly since high school, but..."

"It should," Zach agreed. "But I have to do the asking. You girls get to just sit back and—"

"Says who," Jane retorted. "I dated a guy last year where I had to ask him out. But I knew either he'd say yes, and I'd be happy, or he'd say no, and I'd live with it. I mean, if he doesn't want to spend time with me, that's his loss."

That smacks of Brandon's way of thinking, Zach thought. "Did he say yes?"

"Yeah," Jane said.

"Did you do it with him?" Zach said.

Sajel gave him a dirty look. "Are you ever going to get over that?"

"No, as a matter of fact, we didn't," said Jane. "He turned out to be kind of a jerk. Maybe if we'd lasted past, like, three dates, I might have thought about it. But not before."

"Look, Zach," said Sajel. "Would you ask just anyone to marry you? Well, Jane wouldn't ask just anyone to have sex with her."

"Are you saying I ask just anyone to have sex with me?" Zach retorted.

"No, of course not," said Sajel. "But there was a little while, right before you met Christa..."

"Yeah, all right," said Zach. He wasn't proud of it. Brandon had been head-over-heels mushy-gushy with Meredith, and Arie and Derek had been sneaking off during breaks and coming back looking unspeakably smug; with company like that, one had to take what one could get. But the sex itself had been pretty unsatisfying: Zach had a longer fuse than most people were willing to put up with, especially a cheerleader-type who was only 'doing her duty.' Christa had been remarkably patient with him, on the whole; she often came more than once, and clearly enjoyed it, but if she was worn out before he was, she would take the time to bring him off with her mouth or her hand. It was yet another reason why he loved her.

"Marriage is special to you," Sajel said. "Sex is special to Jane. What's the big deal?"

"And isn't Christa going to say yes," Jane asked. "I mean, I'm not a guy, but I wouldn't even contemplate proposing to someone unless I was pretty sure they'd say yes."

"Yeah, but—" said Zach. This was absolutely true. He was by far the most adventurous of any of them, including Derek and Arie (who simply had a few extreme behaviors, as opposed to his half-extreme everything), but even he wasn't going to go in blind and do something like this without at least some feeling of guarantee. "The thing is—"

"Watch it," Sajel said, low and sharp. Zach barely had time to yank his hand free of his pocket before Christa socketed neatly into the conversation.

"Anybody want some cake?" she said brightly.

"Umm, no, thanks," said Zach, even though he kind of did.

"Naah," said Sajel.

"That's okay," said Jane, looking away.

"Wow," said Christa, giggling, "I feel like I'm breaking into a conspiracy or something. Is there something I need to be brought up-to-date on? And if it's that Meredith is pregnant, sorry, I heard about that one already."

No one answered her. There didn't seem to be anything to say.

"Hunh," said Christa, with that irrepressible smile he loved so well. "I know when I'm not wanted." But as she walked away, he saw her shooting miffed looks over her shoulder.

"Well, that'll do wonders to allay her suspicion-ometer," Sajel muttered.

"Maybe we should have wanted cake," Jane said.

"Right! Cake! That'll solve everything!" Zach snapped.

Sajel shot him a careful look. She had always known, better than anyone else, how to read him. "Anyhow. You were saying."

"I was saying that I don't feel like I even know her anymore!" said Zach. "Every time, it's just, just..."

"Well... It could be she's just frazzled," Jane said. "She's got a lot on her mind right now. I mean, she's running a wedding."

"Yeah, but... Aren't I still supposed to know her?" Zach said, rubbing his face with his hand. And neither Jane nor Sajel said anything to him, which meant (he suspoected) that the proper answer was Yes.

"Hi, cake delivery," someone said. It was Caitlyn Delaney, bearing several plates with, of all people, Jon Stanford. Was something going on there? "Meredith sent me. She said to tell you guys to stop worrying and have fun. And eat some cake. It's chocolate. There's nothing chocolate can't solve."

That was, of course, a flat-out lie; the cake didn't solve anything. But at least it was good.

The rest of the party went relatively smoothly. Zach made a conscious effort to relax and stop worrying, and even succeeded to a rather minor extent. He spent most of the time hanging out near the DJ booth, catching up with Gavin Strickland, whom he hadn't seen since high school. I feel like a wallflower at a school dance—just sort of sitting there, gawking. Not really participating. And look, there's Christa giving me weird looks. Should I be out there making a scene? Well, today I'd rather sit back and reconnect with some old friends. Is that a crime?

And besides, if we wanted a scene, what's going on over there? It was Brandon, stooped over Meredith, who slumped in a chair in a rather dejected fashion; the flicker of motion had caught Zach's eye as Brandon attempted to take hold of her and was rebuffed rather forcefully. Bidding a quick excuse-me to Gavin, Zach trotted over.

"Come on," Brandon was saying when he arrived, "weren't you saying that you wanted to dance? I thought you—"

"Brandon, that was before the cake-cutting. That was two hours ago. I'm tired, okay? I've had a little too much to drink, my head hurts, I've been on my feet for hours—"

"Well, I'm sorry, I wasn't going to, like, fling you around or anything, we can ask Gavin to put a slow song on—"

"Oh, right, not fling me around, like you were doing to get me to stand up? Brandon, I'm pregnant. The last thing I need is to be jostled."

"The doctor said we don't have to worry about it."

"Yeah, he did, but he's not the one carrying him. —Her. It. Whatever it is we're having."

"Well, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to— Jeez, I was trying to help you enjoy your wedding night, you only get one of those in your life—"

"Wow, good try, huh?" said Meredith in a truly acidic voice, and slumped back into the chair.

"Sheesh," said Brandon. "Who are you, and what have you done with my wife?" And Zach, who knew something about jokes that weren't actually joking, gave him a careful look.

"Look," said Meredith. "Forget it. We're done here. Let's just go back to the room and sleep."

Zach jumped into the conversation, doing his best not to sound desperate. "Oh, sleep, is that what they're calling it nowadays?"

Meredith gave him a scathing glance. "And if Brandon's lucky, I won't make him sleep on the couch."

And Zach watched as Brandon, stone-faced, helped her to her feet, and walked her out of the ballroom, and wondered if his friends were about to break Britney Spears' record for world's shortest marriage.

Then he looked in the other direction and saw Christa gaping, taken totally by surprise. And then he what she must have already thought of: that, with Brandon and Meredith absconding, it was essentially her responsibility to wind down the festivities.

This is not how weddings are supposed to go.

It took them almost two more hours to shut everything down; they had rented the ballroom from the hotel, and staff was on hand, but much of the other logistics were Christa's to discharge. They were aided, surprisingly, by Caitlyn and Jon, as well as Derek and Sajel. Arie and Jane wanted to help, and Mr. and Mrs. Levine, and most of the parents in fact, but Christa assured them that there was nothing they could really do. For that matter, there was nothing most of them could do: Christa, ever the perfectionist, would not dream of delegating responsibility to a proxy. She even told him that he could leave, if he wanted. For some reason, he said no. He ended up as part of the receiving line, ushering guests out the door, assuring them that everything was under control, wishing them well in Brandon's name. He felt both pompous and misplaced.

Finally it was all over, most of the guests disposed of and the hotel staff busy dismantling the party; evidently this ballroom was going to be used to host a business convention in perhaps eight hours. Zach found Christa standing in the midst of a sea of noise and commotion, the eye of a storm that was quickly demolishing the wedding. Tomorrow, it would look as if it had never happened at all.

"I think we can go home now," Christa sighed.

Of course, Home meant the suite Brandon had rented for them; he and Meredith had decided to invite their friends on their honeymoon, which itself was barely a week long. Everyone—Arie, Derek, Jane, Sajel—was staying here overnight, with the plane flight scheduled for tomorrow morning. It was the silliest thing Zach had ever heard of, but Brandon had simply said, "Meredith and I know each other. We have the rest of our lives together. But we never spend enough time with our friends—even you and Christa, whom we live with. We'd rather use our honeymoon on the people who really matter."

Christa leaned on his shoulder, clearly worn out. He supposed that all the rush and effort of the past months had caught up with her—final exams followed by the last quarter of their junior year followed by the frantic assembly of a wedding. She had been going full steam ever since Meredith had announced her pregnancy in April. That was the kind of person Christa was—she put others first, even at cost to herself. It was such a big part of why he loved her.

"Thank you for staying with me, Zach," she said. "I don't— Every few minutes I'd feel like falling over, and I'd have to stop and think and try and remember what I was doing. And then I'd—I'd look over and see you. And there you were, still smiling, still trying to smooth things over. And then I'd feel like I could carry on for just a few minutes more."

There was another good reason.

The suite was pristine; they'd barely had time to drop their bags off before scrambling down to the chapel that morning. Christa, he could see, was miserably tired, and so he sat her on the bed while he grabbed a quick shower. When he came out, she was slumped over asleep. He wasn't sure why that surprised him. But then, this was Christa—the heart and soul and energy of them all. Surely she wasn't prey to anything so mortal as weariness.

It was a bit of a struggle, but she woke up just enough that he could help her out of the bridesmaid's dress, and then her bra and panties. Soon she was clad only in bra and panties, and he tucked her into the bed before crawling in himself. It was the first time he had touched her bare flesh in weeks, but he was too tired even for that. He put his arm around her and fell asleep.

When he woke up, there was hair in his face. It was not, of course, his; he'd taken to a buzz cut in college. But then, he would recognize that shampoo anywhere.

She must have moved during the night. But either I was so far gone I didn't notice, or she didn't kick me. In fact, it looks like she's just snuggled up to me. Hunh. First time that's happened.

When he looked, her head came up and she smiled at him. "Hi."

"Hi."

"I don't think I've slept that well in months."

"You have been flopping a lot."

"Yeah, that... That happens when I'm under a lot of stress. I keep waking up and having to roll and... That's why I've been going home to sleep instead of—I knew I'd never get any good sleep, and I didn't want you to, to have the same problem."

"Oh."

"I missed you so much."

"Oh." And then, realizing that perhaps that wasn't enough of an answer: "I missed you too."

If it got to her, her face showed nary a flicker. "What happened with Brandon and Meredith? I was caught up with Tracy Ulmstead and Jason Roedecker."

"I... Honestly, I don't know. He wanted to dance, she didn't... She had wanted to dance, and not anymore. And he was—I guess he was being playful and trying to get her up, but she snapped at him and was all like, you know, Don't touch me, this isn't the time— God."

"I think both of them were cranky. It's been a long... What, year? Three months at the very least."

"Yeah, but, just, from seeing their faces... It was like, you know, What am I getting into? Who is this person—that I just married? I mean... You know?"

"Yeah," said Christa—both an affirmation and an invitation to continue. And he looked into her green eyes and drowned there, the way he always did, and the words came out of him like a torrent.

"And—and— That doesn't make you nervous? If Brandon and Meredith, who, who love each other so much, who— I mean, for fuck's sake, she cheated on him! They hurt each other so much that, that— I mean, just about any other relationship would've ended right then and there, because of the— But they're still together, they had to stay together, or, or, they might've, I dunno, died or something—"

"Yeah," she said. "They— I think, after a lot of time, they could've gone on with their lives if they'd split up, but, never as— I dunno, as trusting? As innocent? They would always be holding back, a little bit. They would always be scared."

"Yeah, so, if. If those two, who need each other so much and who love each other so much, and are so much like the same person— They can still have moments where they hurt each other, and, and misunderstand each other, and— That doesn't make you nervous? I mean, the two people who are most in love of everyone I know, and—"

Her finger on his lips halted the flood.

"Zach," she said. "Everyone hurts each other. Everyone makes mistakes. Being in love doesn't solve that. Being married doesn't solve that. There are always disagreements. Talk to your mother. Talk to my parents. Heck, talk to Brandon's parents." If they know it, it must be obvious—that was what she was saying. "Expecting a marriage to just, I dunno, to just work perfectly... That's not realistic."

"Yeah, but... They were so surprised. It was like they weren't expecting... Like they didn't recognize each other."

"Of course they were. Zach, it takes years and years before you know a person inside and out. Brandon and Meredith love each other like crazy, yeah, but, they're not even twenty-one. Do you realize that this October will only be the fifth anniversary of their first date? I'm guessing they'll be thirty or even thirty-five before they finally stop being surprised at each other."

"Really? I mean, they just— They seem to know each other so well."

"Of course they do. But... These things just take time. And they've had a lot of time with each other already, but, seriously Zach, it takes ages before you truly know somebody. Tom still does things that surprise me, and he's my brother."

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah. Like that thing with, what, with Emma Stanton?"

"Yeah. Like anyone saw that coming."

"Do. Um. Do I still take you by surprise?"

She gave him a bright, brilliant smile. "Of course you do, baby. And isn't that a good thing? Wouldn't it be horrible if you stopped surprising me after just a couple of years and we got boring?"

"Well... When you put it that way," he said, grinning. And then, because he thought it might surprise her, he kissed her.

"Hmm," she said. "I knew you were gonna do that."

"Damn," he said. "Oh well." And he kissed her again.

She scooted up his body, her arms clasping him, bending herself to him. His hands caressed her skin, sliding over pale flesh, the dips and curves of her bare back. Her mouth melded to his, their tongues entwining, and he reached out and caught her upper lip gently between his tongue and his teeth. It was one of her most sensitive spots, and he felt the immediate reaction.

"Oh, God," she breathed. "It's been too long. Oh, Zach, how I've missed it..."

Then you should have come home to Brandon's house, he thought, but immediately squelched the sentiment. Surely she had had her reasons; and even though both of them had suffered for it, there was no point in getting angry. He had her now, after all—and he could think of far better things to do than to get angry at her.

With a single movement he pushed her over on her back, following with his own body, leaning over her. Her eyes went wide, and she smiled. "Ooooh. And exactly what salacious thoughts, Mr. Zachary Howard Crane, are occupying your mind?"

He hated that middle name. "I don't know, Christa Mackenzie Sternbacher, what thoughts are on yours?"

She grimaced. "No fair. You used my middle name."

"Hey, you used mine."

"Mine's a guy's name."

"Mackenzie? No it isn't. I've never met a guy named Mackenzie."

"Have you met anyone named Mackenzie at all?"

"...Well. I gotta give you that one, I guess."

"Ha."

"But even if your name was Mud, or Robert, or even Jim... I'd still love you anyway."

Her arm curled around his head. "Oh, really? Because, if my name were Robert, I think I'd be a guy."

"Look, I'm trying to say something romantic here," he said. She started laughing. "Shut up and let me flirt with you!"

"I'm... I'm sorry, I... Heeheehee... Zach, you, you just set yourself up for..."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," he said, and dove at her breasts. That stopped the giggles well enough.

She moaned, and her hand tightened in his hair, as he took her nipple into his mouth. She had large, well-formed nipples, and he had always loved them, and he knew what to do with them. He sucked on it with his lips, applying pressure, and then took it between his teeth and nipped gently, pulling back; she gasped with her pleasure, arching up to him. One thing he would never have anticipated: she liked the pressure; she liked the pain. She liked it hard. But, of course, so did he.

When his hand dipped between her legs, he was startled to feel the seeping heat through her panties; this was very fast, for her. But then he realized that he himself was already at full mast, and thought about how long it had been for them—not since June? Three months? She must be practically gagging for it.

But, of course, so was he.

Quickly they wiggled her out of her panties, and soon his hand was tasting the sweet warmth between her legs, feeling the heat and wetness. But barely had he cupped his hand over her mound that he ached to taste her, and he slid down her body until his head nestled in the bowl of her legs, and he could reach out with his tongue and taste the tangy nectar that was Christa. When she moaned and shuddered, he knew her again, and grinned to himself and fastened his lips around her clit and sucked.

When she came it was totally unexpected—the fastest he'd ever seen her cum in his life. Her moans had reached a crescendo already, but now she pressed his face to her pussy, so strongly he thought he might suffocate, and suddenly she was gasping and crying out: "Oh God oh God oh God Zach Zach Zach—" And he saw the shudder and clench and release, and thought, Hey, sometimes things work out, before reapplying himself to her very-wet pussy again.

"Oh God, oh God—Zach—" Her hands plucked at his head, his shoulder. "Put it—put it in me, Zach, Zach—"

He smiled where she couldn't see him. "I'm not done yet."

"I don't care, I want—Zach, stick it in me, oh—"

Well, with an invitation like that, who was he to refuse?

And then her eyes were rolling back in her head, and then he couldn't see either, as her sweet warmth enveloped him and there was nothing but feeling: her pussy lips clasping his cock, the slick depths of her pussy, the urgent warmth of her body; her breasts under him, her arms around his shoulders, her knees flanking him, and the butterfly-soft touch of her lips on his neck.

"Oh, God— Zach, I love you, I love you so much—"

And there was another thing she hadn't done in a while.

He leaned down and kissed her, and began to move inside her.

For the first few strokes she lay there, kissing him back; then she began to move, rocking up and down, meeting him as he penetrated. And then she wasn't kissing him at all, as her face tilted back in that mixture of pain and joy and longing that was so uniquely Christa. She pulled his body down to meet hers, drawing him to rest on his elbows, his weight covering her; he felt her breath rustling past his ear, her gasps and moans and sighs. And always below that the warmth of her pussy, her passage blossoming before him as he thrust, contracting in longing as he slid out, wet and slippery and warm, clinging to his every ridge and vein, drawing him in, making him hers.

Again, she came first, this time with barely a sound; a gasp, a gulp, a sigh, and then he felt her body tense, and her pussy squeeze down on him, so good it was almost painful. And then he was gone too, feeling nothing but the gushing of his cum, the clenching of her pussy, warmth and light and joy in waves so close he could've sworn they were in tune.

"Oh God I love you," she breathed.

When he could speak again, he whispered, "That was really short, for us."

"It's—It's been such a long time, baby."

"It has."

He wasn't falling asleep, at least not entirely; instead he floated, cradled by her body, in some half-state between consciousness and slumber. He was both aware and unaware of her; she was like a cushion under him, featureless and amorphous, and yet he thought he could feel every rib, every pore, the bumps of her nipples and the softness of her breasts and the soft fibers of her pubic hair and the swelling of her breathing and even the infintesimal beat-beat of her heart.

"What time is it," she said finally.

"I dunno. You look."

"But, your head is on that side."

He sighed and looked. "It's nine thirty."

"Oh noooo, we're going to be so late," she said. "We still have to shower and pack up our formal wear."

"So we'll shower at the same time," he said. "It'll be faster."

A pause. Then she laughed. "With us doing this again? Yeah right."

"So we won't do this again."

"Like that's gonna happen."

"I'll control myself this time."

"Uh-huh."

"Besides, I'm saving it up for when we get on the plane."

"...On the plane?" He could almost hear the thoughts working in her head. "...Ooh!"

"Heh. Thought you'd like that."

And indeed, they did make it through the shower without molesting each other too much. But when Zach got outside, he realized that the little velvet box was still in the pants pocket of his tuxedo. He had barely gotten it hidden in today's clothing when Christa bustled out, wearing absolutely nothing, to start the packing.

Okay. I can wait until we're in the airport, but... Yikes, that would be lousy. They're so metal and sterile, it would be like proposing to her in a hospital operating room. I can... Well, I can wait until we land, but... I dunno, if I don't do it now, I think... Well, that means...

Christa was standing at the door to the suite, her backpack on and her luggage on its wheels. "Are you ready?"

In the hallway, he stopped her with a tug. There was nobody around, and it was now or never. "Christa, um, I..."

"Yeah?"

"Well, I..."

She shook hair out of her face with a gesture. "Zach, can this wait? We're going to miss the flight if we don't—"

"Christa, I just wanted to tell you," he said. And Christa, picking up the mood from his face, fell silent.

"I don't... I know we haven't had many chances to, you know. To be together. —Not just in bed, but... At all. Because we've been so busy, and..."

"It has been a while," she agreed.

"I just wanted to tell you that... That I love you, and I, um. This is the happiest I've been in so long. I just... I enjoy your company so much, and, and, sometimes I forget how fun it is just to, just to be near you, and..."

"Yeah?" she said, with a hurry-up expression on her face.

"And... I..." There was nothing else for it. He pulled the box out of his pocket and dropped to one knee. "Christa... Will you marry me?"

There was a stunned silence. Christa plucked the ring out of the box and stared at it as if trying to figure out what it was.

"Another wedding?" she said. "Another— After all the trouble we just went through to get them married?"

"Well, it— It doesn't have to be now," he said, feeling defensive, "I mean, definitely not until we graduate—"

"But that's only a year away! Our senior year! We have to think about grad school and find summer jobs and, and—" Her eyes were wide and scared. "Zach, I'm going to go nuts!"

"Well, fine then," he said, feeling more annoyed than anything else. I try to do something nice for her and she just gets pissed off. "I'll just, I dunno, I'll give the ring back to my mom or something..."

"Wait, what?" she said.

"Well, if you don't..." He thought it might kill him, but he managed to say the words. "If you don't want to marry me, then..."

"Wait, what?" she said. And then, realizing: "—What? Oh, God, no, Zach, no! I mean, yes! Yes, I do want to marry you! Of course I do! Why would I not—"

"Well, I mean, you were saying—you just kept talking about it like—"

"Oh God, I'm so sorry Zach, I am such an idiot, oh my God—"

"It's okay. It's okay. We're both— We're both idiots at times. We're all idiots."

"Here," said Christa, and gave him back the ring. He saw that her hand was shaking, and realized that she wanted him to put it on her finger—that, furthermore, she was incapable of it at this very moment. The only problem was, his hand was shaking too.

"Okay," he said. "Okay."

"Yeah."

"It's, um. We weren't sure of the sizing, it might be too big—"

"That's okay, there's gotta be a jeweler's somewhere, just because we're going on vacation doesn't mean—"

And yet, when he got it on, it fit perfectly.

"Oh," he said. "Okay."

"Yeah."

"It, um. It looks nice there."

"Well. —Good. 'cause it's gonna stay there for a long time, evidently. At least, until we have a son, and he's about to ask some girl to marry him—"

"Oh Jesus. That's like three thousand years from now. Don't talk to me about that."

Christa smiled up at him, her eyes bright. "I hope he looks like you."

"Are you kidding?" said Zach. "You're the pretty one." And then, because he loved her, he kissed her.

And then there was a lot of applause and cheering from behind them and he turned and saw everybody. Brandon and Meredith, arm in arm; Derek yelling, Arie catcalling, Jane laughing, Sajel whistling with both fingers in her mouth.

Zach felt his face turn very red.

"So, he finally did it, huh?" said Brandon, coming up to them.

"Welcome to the Grown-Up Adult club," Meredith laughed, giving Christa a hug.

"At least we won't have to see him moping today like he was last night," Brandon said.

"Dude, did Meredith tell you or something?"

"No."

"Then how'd you know?" Zach said.

Brandon shrugged. "Wasn't it obvious?"

"What about you guys," Arie asked. "After the way you left last night..."

"Yeah, well, we were both really tired," Meredith said. "We went to bed early, which was actually what we needed more than anything else."

"You didn't have sex on the wedding night?" said Derek. "Isn't that, like, against the law or something?"

"Well, when we woke up this morning..." said Meredith, with a shy smile.

"It was very nice," said Brandon, putting his arm around her shoulders. "And quiet. Unlike what we heard from the next suite over."

Zach hadn't thought that Christa could turn any redder. I guess it will be a while before we stop surprising each other.

"And Christa," Sajel said. "Way to overshoot the mark. Zach's all on one knee and he's like, 'So, are you gonna answer my question,' and you're like, 'Shh, I'm deciding what kind of organizer I'm gonna need to buy.' "

"You, um," said Christa. "You saw that?"

"Hey, everyone makes mistakes," said Zach diplomatically.

"Right, like the one where she said Yes," Arie snickered.

"Hey, who else is she gonna find to put up with her?" Jane said, grinning.

"Aren't, um," said Christa, with remarkable aplomb. "Aren't we late?"

"You know, I think you might have a point," Meredith said, shooting a half-scolding, half-bemused glance at the others. She picked up her wheelie-bag handle with one hand and gave the other to her husband. "They aren't gonna hold the plane just for us, you know."

"Come on, folks," Brandon said. "Time's a-wasting."

"Also, do you know how near our seats are to the bathroom?" Christa asked.

"I dunno," said Meredith. "Why?"

"Oh, just asking," Christa said, grinning. She looked at the Chamberses' hands, and then to Zach, and he smiled and caught up hers as well.

"I'm marrying a nymphomaniac," he murmured to her.

"Yes, Mr. Crane, you are," she returned primly.

"And that's just the way I like it, Mrs. Crane-to-be."

"Mrs. What?"

"Well, you're supposed to change your last name, you know."

"To Crane?"

"Well, that is my last name."

"I can't marry you anymore," Christa said, grinning.

"Humph," said Zach, grinning back.