"Thank you," Olive says, sing-song, holding her glass up to tap gently against his when she takes it. For a moment, she actually feels almost shy, and it's the weirdest fucking thing, because she can't remember the last time she felt that way around him. It's just the situation, is all. She may not know the bride and groom, except through someone else's words, but that kind of devotion is still affecting and it's still a wedding. It's hard to sit through that and not think about her own future. About theirs. And when he looks at her like that, it's equally as hard not to be sure what she wants, though it's not something she's really spent any time thinking about.

And she really can't think about it here and now. She cannot get caught up in this moment. "Do you think it's weird for me to be here? I mean, I did once slap his sister when she kissed me. Do you remember that? That was so weird. I'd almost completely forgotten, probably because getting kissed by someone with your face and without your permission is actually fairly traumatic, but now that I'm here, it's all coming back, like war flashbacks or something."