Chapter 1: March
"Obviously it should be me, Jess. I'm like, the anti-Spencer. The most anti you'll find anywhere, now that you mention it. Because number one, I like to dance. And B, I'm like, a whiz around bouquets and matching dresses. What else would you want in a date to this wedding?"
Winston stopped talking and looked intently at Jess, waiting for her response. She blinked a few times, mulling it over, because he did have some good points. And she was just about to ask him if he'd be willing to link elbows sometimes, when Schmidt interjected.
"Winston's off his rocker, Jess. I'm your best choice here, and I'm going to tell you why."
He paused for effect, and Jess rolled her eyes, just to make sure it wasn't obvious that she was a tiny bit intrigued.
"For starters, while it is true that Winston and I are both utterly dashing in a suit. I'm the only one among us who knows how to work the room to maximize visibility, ensuring Spencer sees you all night, without you having to look at him at all if you so choose."
Schmidt, gaining power as he absorbed the rapt silence around the island in the sun-soaked kitchen, looked at Jess and continued.
"As with any sensitive reconnaissance-slash-under-cover-mission, subtlety is the primary ingredient. Restraint is my middle name, and I'm the king of finesse. So not only will you look great standing next to me all night, but you will thoroughly enjoy yourself knowing that I will know what Spencer is thinking, at all times. I will know how he's feeling, where he's sweating—"
"—Um…"
"—You'll get everything you could ever possibly want from four hours at a wedding with your ex-boyfriend, Jess."
"But—"
"—Full reports every fifteen minutes. Snarky comments about anyone he's talking to, and fished compliments from me on your behalf, solicited from unsuspecting guests all over the venue. You'll be flush with unwarranted praise, Jess. You're going to feel like a million bucks, and I mean, newly-minted, and by that I mean far superior to anyone else's million bucks."
Schmidt clapped his hands together, confident he'd put the nail in the coffin, and looked around at each of the roommates. Cece put her coffee down on the island and nodded.
"I hate to say it, babe, and I know I'm biased here, but I think Schmidt would be the ideal date to this wedding. For the purposes you've outlined, I mean."
Winston looked defeated, but had to concede.
"Maybe he's right, Jess. And if I'm being honest here, a part of me will probably be checking out single women, or women who appear to be single, and that counts women who very clearly came to the wedding with a date, and/or are very much committed to someone, but who are alone temporarily because their man might have gone to the bathroom for a minute. Plus I'm not very good at determining meaning from just a look."
Jess smiled in understanding.
"You look angry, Jess." Winston continued. "But I think I agree with Schmidt. It would be a lot of fun to go with you, of course, but you and I both know that half the time I'm on another planet. And that's not what you need. Not right now during this conversation, and definitely not at this wedding coming up tomorrow night."
"The wedding is in three months, Winston." Jess sighed and looked into the depths of her mug, finding only a disappointing amount of lukewarm coffee. She'd made her decision.
"Okay, Schmidt. You win."
"Yes!" Schmidt jumped off the kitchen stool and pumped his fist in the air. He turned to Cece.
"Let's consider this a chance for some field research, my darling. You know how much I love weddings, but I'm going to love our wedding the most, so this is just another opportunity to find ways to out-wedding yet another wedding."
Cece grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer to where she sat on the kitchen stool.
"I know, Schmidt. You're going to take great notes. But most importantly, you're going to help Jess get through a weird night."
Cece looked back to Jess.
"I hope you'll be ready for a night of extreme smugness."
Jess shrugged a shoulder, and with that, Cece turned back to the group and raised her coffee mug, inspiring the rest of them to raise their mugs of various morning beverages and give a few hearty cheers.
"To smugness!"
"Here! Here!" they all shouted in unison.
With all of the revelry, no one really noticed that the TV suddenly turned off, or that Nick stood up from where he'd been sitting on the couch the whole time, and walked gruffly to his room.
Despite its loudness, they'd barely heard the door slam shut.
''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
One week and 9 hours later, Nick wiped the bar down for the fiftieth time as he glanced over to where two of his roommates sat in a booth. He knew they were talking about the upcoming wedding, saw the binder laid out on the table, and saw how Schmidt was vigorously shaking his head. Jess was gesticulating with one arm while jabbing her finger repeatedly on a glossy magazine page with an image of an elegant woman in a party dress. He watched her lips, red and animated as she gave her testimony about its suitability or whatever.
Meanwhile, Nick noted how it was clear Schmidt didn't agree, and Nick wanted to take Jess' side, though about what exactly, he couldn't be entirely sure. He wanted Schmidt to shut up and back off, and he wanted to go over there and close the binder and change the subject, and for some reason, the whole scenario was giving Nick weird feelings.
For the past week, he'd shrugged off the fact that Jess had chosen Schmidt to be her date to this wedding over Winston. It had bothered him at first because Winston was just cooler, had more street cred, and his oddball qualities made him pretty unforgettable. He was a nice-looking guy, Nick could admit that, and he often admitted it to Winston's face, especially after many beers. But putting Winston's general appeal aside, there was something about Schmidt being Jess' date to a wedding at which another ex-boyfriend would also be a guest that just really irked him.
Having arrived at this conclusion many times before – the conclusion of feeling irked, that is—Nick felt resigned to simply follow protocol, pushing the whole thing out of his mind, just like all of the other times. And in the spirit of suppression, he walked over to the gang and smiled.
"Hey guys. Anyone need a refill?" Nick stood with his legs apart, his arms crossed across his ribcage, and waited, smiling from one roommate to the other. That oughtta do it- suppression complete.
No one looked up.
"…But that's the whole point," Jess was saying. "I want to look cool and sexy and mysterious. All of them."
Schmidt was shaking his head too many times, almost like he couldn't stop.
"It's the wrong strategy altogether, Jess. This is what I've been saying all week. Have you learned nothing at our nightly Wedding Rundown Workshop Series?"
Jess pressed her knuckles into her eyes and leaned back against the booth, a loud, slightly drunken and clearly exasperated sigh emanating from somewhere below her sternum, but Schmidt just rolled his eyes and continued shaking his head, mostly to himself now.
"SCHMIDT!" she said loudly, finally sitting up and placing her palms flat on the table in front of her. He looked up and stilled his head, his mouth set in a thin line, and waited.
She took a deep breath, glancing up at Nick briefly, and lowered her voice. "You're making this more stressful than it needs to be." Nick continued to stand there, watching the exchange, feeling frustrated for Jess, annoyed with Schmidt, and kind of like a loser. He was a little flustered when Jess looked up again and fixed him with a piercing gaze, her blue eyes shimmering and filled with anxiety.
"Nick! Nick. Tell him. Please. Tell him this dress will do the trick."
She looked back down to the controversial image, pointing to it emphatically before running her fingers over the gown, along the model's arms.
"Won't this be perfect, Nick? I mean, I want to feel good, and I know that's the key ingredient to looking good, and this dress – it's just perfect. Picture yourself at a wedding, and you see me in this dress, and then try and imagine how you'd feel if you were my ex—"
Nick cleared his throat.
"—boyfriend. Oh. Right. Huh… Sorry." Jess cut herself off and then allowed several seconds of nervous giggling to trickle through her nose.
Nick was frozen, but his eyebrows shot up and he forced his cheeks upwards into something that kind of resembled an awkward smile.
"Hm? Sorry for what? It's great, and that dress is great, you'd be great, it's great, you know? What the hell?"
And with that, Nick turned and walked back to the bar, leaving Jess and Schmidt sitting in the booth in silence. They both watched the back of Nick as he walked stiffly behind the bar, continued along its length and departed out the other side until he disappeared altogether.
"You're the dumbest girl in school," Schmidt said, swirling the last inch of his beer around in the bottle. He looked at Jess with one eye as he tipped his head back to gulp it down, then shifted out of the booth and headed off toward the men's room.
Jess nodded and looked wistfully back at the magazine dress. "I know." she said to the glossy image. "The complete dumbest."