Esposito had only heard of Jenny four times in eight months.
The first time, she was nameless and had an atrocious fashion sense that she liked to impose on her boyfriend as a two-week anniversary gift. Esposito joked about it, if only because he didn't know how else to react. He didn't even know Ryan had a girlfriend.
The second time, her name came attached to the image of her drinking "warm honey milk" with Ryan before bedtime. Esposito joked again, but, without Castle there to elbow with him, somehow it wasn't as funny.
The third time, her irritating need—no, demand—for attention canceled the longstanding tradition that Ryan and Esposito had of going out for burritos before watching Monday night football at Ryan's place; roadkill couch or not, tradition was tradition, and this girl was the first thing to ever get in its way. Esposito didn't joke about this one.
The fourth time, Ryan announced their engagement.
"This is insane, bro," Esposito grumbled, standing next to Ryan before the tri-fold mirror, each of them fixing their ridiculous-looking formal wear. Esposito pinched the bowtie at his neck that matched his black vest, despite the fact that there was simply nothing to do with it, while Ryan experimented with buttoning and unbuttoning the center of his pinstriped jacket. "Do you realize I haven't even met this girl?"
"Sure you have," Ryan said. "Remember that time we played Hold 'Em at Castle's? He wore that ridiculous bright blue feather boa of his mother's all night?"
"I wasn't there."
"Yeah, you were. Martha ran out of chips and started betting with leftover zucchini bread." He paused, then added, "We did Jello shots on the roof!" as if that made his point.
"I wasn't invited, remember?"
Ryan's face looked tense for a moment, and then it relaxed with the realization. "Oh, yeah. Well you were busy bumming about the chick from Starbucks who never called you, remember? You said you wanted everyone to leave you alone."
Esposito grimaced. He remembered that girl. He made a big show of asking her out in front of Ryan, who had been teasing him for at least a week about his dry spell. Esposito had been a little too obvious, and the girl shrugged him off.
"Well, you've still met her. Lots of other times."
"Not once, bro." Esposito raised an eye in the mirror, daring him to argue. Ryan said nothing. They fumbled around with their collars and sleeves in silence until Esposito spoke up.
"You ever seen How I Met Your Mother?"
Ryan stopped fussing with his reflection and turned to his partner. "What?"
"This show," Esposito said as he rubbed his face for the mirror, checking for any stubble he may have missed shaving. "It's about a bunch of young guys, round our age. One of them is a dedicated bro, always a good wingman, always looking out for his friends, always looking for a good time. He's the awesome bachelor of the pack. But this other guy, who spends way more time fixing his hair than any man ever should," he said, looking at his partner knowingly as Ryan swept his hair furiously with his fingers (he stopped that pretty suddenly), "decides to be lame and ditch all his friends and get married."
"I'm not ditching you," Ryan said, making a face.
"Oh, no, I didn't say you were," Esposito cooed innocently. "I was just wondering if you'd ever seen the show, that's all." After a moment of strained silence, he added, "it's pretty funny."
"If you have such a problem with this," Ryan said, feeling a little warm, "then why'd you agree to be my best man?"
"Who said I have a problem?" Esposito said impassively, though his voice didn't match the look on his face.
"Why are you being such a little girl?" Ryan demanded, voice rising with his temper. Esposito ignored him and seesawed his bowtie, which he'd already fixed four times by now. "Fine, whatever," Ryan huffed. "I have an engagement party to attend. Excuse me." He got all the way to the door before Esposito said anything.
"It's just not right, bro," he sighed. Ryan stopped at the door, but he didn't turn around. "I mean, I don't even know this girl, and you're getting ready to marry her. I'm just... surprised you don't care what I think of her, that's all."
"What are you, my mother?" he sneered.
"No, I'm your--" Esposito stopped. He felt a lurch in his stomach that almost made him want to vomit. Esposito saw Ryan's reflection in the mirror finally turn around to face him.
"My what?"
"Forget it," he said, addressing the reflection. "And you look stupid in a suit."
Ryan scoffed slightly, opened his mouth as though he had something to say, and then simply turned around and marched straight out of the room. Esposito brushed the wrinkles out of his vest and pants. He looked at himself square in the mirror and practiced what he would say meeting people that night.
"Hi. You must be from Ryan's family. I can tell by your stupid hair."