Birthday Flowers | The Kissing Booth

54. Twelve Days (1)

(Elle)

TUESDAY

I wake up the morning after our family dinner feeling better than I have in days. There's a weird giddiness now that it's all decided and all happening so soon. In twelve days I'll be married to Noah, and not long after that we'll be parents; it would be terrifying if it weren't also thrilling. All these decisions and milestones and transitions that seemed unimaginable a year ago are about to become reality, and I can only giggle at the ridiculous pace of it all.

For once I'm the first one up, and by the time Noah joins me in the kitchen the coffee is made, the first batch of French toast is coming off the griddle, and I'm singing along to my phone.

"You're unusually chipper for this early." Noah comments warily.

"Why wouldn't I be? I have no classes to go to, no work to do, and for another few weeks, basically no responsibilities. And neither do you. So before adulthood comes barrelling at us, I say we enjoy our summer."

"I sense there's a plan for today that I shouldn't try to modify."

"Correct. Not that you'd want to, because once we've had breakfast we're going to the beach and doing absolutely nothing productive, we're eating boardwalk food for lunch no matter how much you try to convince me corn dogs and funnel cake aren't a balanced meal, and once it gets too hot we're seeing whatever movie is playing. If they're all terrible, we'll have to entertain ourselves some other way than paying attention to the screen. Oh, and Lee mentioned a friend of his is having a party tonight. With karaoke and vintage video games, so you know I'm not missing that."

"So you're going full high school for the day?" Noah laughs.

"Basically. Come on, it'll be fun."

"Karaoke with Lee's friends—definitely the hottest invite in town."

"He thinks that girl he met at the party this weekend is going to be there. We can't miss that."

"Am I allowed to mess with him?" Noah's eyes gleam.

"Within reason."

"Deal."

~~~~

I keep expecting June to call or text with wedding questions, but she's true to her promise to take as much of the planning off our shoulders as possible and I don't hear from her all day. I know Mickey called June as soon as I got done telling her about our blitz wedding plans, so maybe between the two of them Noah and I really won't have much to do. I do wonder if I should care more about all these details we've blindly delegated to June. It's not that I don't care about the wedding, it's that trying to figure out what I want and how to make it happen by next Saturday is paralyzing, and I can't imagine not liking anything June comes up with. As long as Noah and I end up married and the people most important to us are there, I'm happy. Well, and cake. Maybe I should make sure June understands that cake is non-negotiable.

Hanging out in the shallows as small waves constantly push and pull past me is heavenly, even more so than floating in our pool had been. With the salt water supporting me, I feel less awkward and unbalanced than I have in weeks, and I'm tempted to spend the rest of this pregnancy immersed. I'd be so pruney my skin might never recover and I'd stink of seaweed and iodine, but it might still be worth it. I don't attempt to swim, I just hang off the side of a float while Noah keeps it from being pulled away by the waves, his height making him a convenient human pier.

Noah is telling me stories about a disastrous surfing trip, with missed flights and stolen luggage and miserable weather, and it takes me a minute to realize that he's talking about this February, that he and his friends were off on these adventures while I was panicking about being pregnant and trying to figure out what to do next. The brief flash of resentment I feel is entirely unfair; I'm the reason Noah had no idea what I was going through as he relaxed on vacation. Thankfully, my irrational frustration is quickly replaced by simple disbelief at how long ago February already seems.