"Evangeliiiiiiiiine!

I close my eyes in an attempt to wish him away, to believe he isn't here. But he is. All nearly six feet of him, swathed in dark blue Varvatos slacks and jacket, crisp white dress shirt, stylish tie and black wing tipped shoes that announce his arrival with audible clicks on the tile floors of Prime, our favorite gathering place. He must have come straight from work; he's always in a great mood after a day of destroying people's lives.

He is JC. A childhood... friend, I guess you could call him, who refuses to go away and stay away and has fixated on me for years.

Evangeliiiine is a weenie in a polka dot bikiiiiiini!"

I cringe, pulling away from the woody scent of cologne wafting over my shoulder and the light touch of minty breath on my cheek. His voice sing songs the age old taunt into my ear-he's been singing that song since we were six years old.

"I haven't gone by that name in like thirty years, JC. One day you're going to pick up on that."

"Not likely," he shoots back, then much to my chagrin, pulls out the chair next to me and plops himself into it. I give my most pained look across the table at Morgan, the best friend I have in the world and the only reason I would put up with having to hang out with JC, but I'm sure she doesn't see it. Or she sees it, but as usual she ignores it.   Next to her is Nick, the love of her life and the two of them are so gaga over each other tonight, it's sickening.

Yeah I'm jealous. So what? 

Just one short hour ago, my evening was perfect. Dinner with Morgan, our usual Monday night date at our usual table in our usual place. When she called me earlier in the day to ask if Nick could drop by for a few minutes, I thought nothing of it. I like Nick and I've known him forever, so I'm always happy to see him. Plus, he always buys a round of drinks.

But an hour into Monday Date Night, Nick is still ‘dropping by', and I'm irritated. Then JC shows up-Nick probably invited him-and now I'm seething with anger. They both know I can't stand him. Besides, Nick and JC are best friends, like me and Morgan. They see each other all the time!

"What's up brother?" JC asks, his oversized hands enveloping Nick's grasp.

"Nothing much," Nick replies. "Whatcha drinkin'?"

Before JC can answer the waitress drops by to take orders. Well, more like flirt. JC gives off this vibe that's like a bat signal for young girls looking for a good time and nothing more. They respond to it like crazy and it drives me nuts how much attention he gets when we're all out together. She's cute, perky and rail thin with a big chest and long hair-just how he likes them. I can't stop my eyes from rolling at her fake laughter at his lame jokes.

"I'll take another one of these," I say, pointing toward my half-empty martini glass, not even sorry at interrupting the love fests. It's enough to make a girl gag.

"What are you having, something girly?" JC says. "You won't get shitfaced on that."

I glare at JC. My hackles are up and he knows it. That's his favorite time to pick on me. I make myself breathe... in, out. In, out. "Mmaybe if I drink enough, I'll be able to tune out the sound of your voice."

JC laughs like he always does, like it's the funniest joke he's ever heard. He orders a lite beer from cute perky waitress and she bounces away, looking over her shoulder to make sure JC is watching her ass. "Gag me," I mutter, then turn my attention to the beaming couple. "The fuck is this, you guys? You totally hijacked date night."

"Well...we kind of have an announcement." Morgan hesitates, glances at Nick for a moment, then returns her eyes to the two of us, JC and I, waiting for her to tell us what we already know is coming. She grins, her sparkling white teeth glittering in the low light of the restaurant. She practically explodes when she lays the news on us: "Nicholas and I have decided to get married!"

Morgan has always been the type for dramatic flair. She took drama for four years in high school, majored in Theater Arts at University of Central Florida, has starred in just about every Civic Community Center Production and works in casting at Universal Studios. Being a drama queen is in her blood... but it's not like this news is a surprise. Nick and Morgan have been attached at the hip since the third grade. I should know; I've been around the entire time.

There are eight of us in our regular group of friends. Men and women, all about our age who we've picked up along the road of life. Some of us met in college, some of us work together, but Nick, Morgan, me and JC are the core group. We've known each most of our lives. We grew up on the same street in a quiet Orlando suburb. Our parents are all still friends. We all went to the same preschool, elementary, junior high and high school.

Morg and I went to UCF where I majored in Criminal Justice and went on to Barry School of Law. JC floundered at Rollins College for a year and then decided to join us at UCF where, for no apparent reason--because he was never interested in law before, he earned a degree in Legal Studies.

He was in nearly every one of my classes at Barry and made sure to sit behind or beside me every day. Probably to copy off of my exams. He chose to work for a firm that directly competes with mine just to spite me. His office is across town but we're often arguing opposite sides of the same cases at court. He has delighted in kicking my ass on every single case. His brother Tyler, who is like my own little brother, is a new associate at our firm and finds our rivalry funny after all these years. I don't see the humor.

Did I mention I can't stand JC?

Everyone else tries to put us together. People really want to see us together and if we could get along, I agree that we make a really cute couple. Unfortunately we make a really cute couple of people that fight all the time. We tried but... been there, done that, it didn't work out and it never will. 

I sip my martini and wait for the happy couple to stop making eyes at each other. JC takes a long drag off of his beer, nodding and grinning and glancing around the semi dark bar. Probably picking out victims.

"So what does this news have to do with me and JC? I get one night a week I get to spend with Morgan without having to hang out with you two."

Morgan sits up, her perfectly trimmed blonde hair falling forward. Her face is aglow and she claps her hands together in what I can only guess is excited glee. Inside, I groan. Remember I said that Morgan was kind of dramatic? There's no telling what she's about to say.

"So we were thinking...and let us know what you think... but we were thinking..." She pauses and turns to Nick for support. Nick chuckles at his fiancée and lays an arm across the back of her chair. Leaning forward, he rests his other arm on the table and says, "We were thinking of going away for the wedding."

"Like eloping?" I squeak, choking on my drink. "Like I don't get to see you get married?"

"Oh no, no, no sweetheart," Morgan says. "I mean all of us. Our friends, our family. We all go away for a few days. It'll be like a combination vacation- engagement- bachelor-bachelorette-wedding-reception trip. I think it sounds fun! What do you think?" She stares at me with this look in her eye that's hopeful and beautiful and wants me to not only love her idea but fall in love with it. She's always been the dreamer, the one that wishes up things that are impossible. I've always been the bubble buster, the realist, the one who brings her down to earth.

I can't find a thing to complain about though. It's not like I couldn't use a vacation. The firm is working me into the ground and with all the work related organizations I'm involved in, even thinking about time away makes my mouth water. Besides, Nick is a partner in a private clinic. He and Morg live in Viscaya, an upscale gated community full of NBA players and famous musicians. He's loaded. If he's paying, I'm in.

Just... I have a really bad feeling about why JC and I-and none of the others- are here tonight.

"Sounds good to me, I guess," I finally say with a shrug. "Any ideas where? And when?"

Nick smiles, giving JC a look that turns my blood cold. "We thought we'd leave that bit of research and planning up to our Best Man..." He winks at JC. "And Maid of Honor," he finishes, grinning at me. "Look, there's a million ways and places we could do this and Morgan could be all Bridezilla and I could be the hands-off groom, but we were talking the other night and thought, well wouldn't it be fun if our best friends planned our wedding getaway? You guys know us better than anyone and who knows what you'll come up with that we wouldn't have even though of? So we planned to present the idea tonight and see if you're up to it."

"I think it's cool," JC says. "I'm in. We could go to Hawaii for cheap, man! Do like a luau, pig roast kinda thing-"

"Not on your fucking life!" I say-well more like shriek, and much louder than I intended. JC stops talking mid-sentence and half of Prime's finely dressed patrons turn to stare at the screaming girl. I'm beet red and I feel like I'm overheating. Beads of sweat are popping up along my hairline. I dab at my forehead with a damp napkin that I yanked from under my glass. Now my face smells like a martini.

I take a deep breath and start again. "My best friend is not getting married in some cheap Hawaiian ceremony in a fucking grass skirt while a roast pig with a fucking apple stuck in its mouth is the centerpiece. You're a lunatic if you think that's happening!"

"It's just an idea, Evangel-"

"And stop calling me that! My name is Angie. You're the only person that calls me Evangeline and I'm sick of it!"

Morgan reaches across the table and lays a hand on mine. I'm shaking and panting like I've just run a marathon. I grab my drink and guzzle the rest of it. It just barely splashes down my throat before I slam the glass back onto the table and shoot my arm into the air, waving at the waitress from across the room.

"There's obviously a lot to decide and talk about. Morg and I will talk to you both separately and let you know what we're looking for. I won't say money's no object, but-" Nick looks at JC while he says this last part. "We're not looking to go cheap. Not Hawaii. It's played. We want everyone to have a great time and celebrate with us. That's rule number one."

"You two are our very best friends and I know this is a lot to put on you, but..." Morgan sighs. "Just... if you guys could help us pull this off, then after the wedding we'll never ask you to hang out with each other ever again."

"Promise?"  JC and I ask at the same time. I cut my eyes at him; he glares at me.

The waitress drops by with another drink for me and Morgan and a fresh beer for JC. Nick doesn't drink when he's on call at the clinic so she refills his water glass.

I slurp a mouthful of vodka and swallow. I'm starting to feel a little woozy and think maybe this third martini was not such a good idea. 

But then JC starts to flirt with the waitress again, telling a stupid joke that isn't even funny. She laughs loud, long and obnoxiously. Odds on him getting her number so he can only call her when he's horny and then avoid her after that? One hundred to one.

Pig.

Why do I let JC get under my skin so badly?