Douchebags who wander

JENNIE

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I race toward the terminal, the garment bag with the gown inside thrown over my arms and shoulder. Many times on the cab ride here I've thought of slashing it, throwing it out the window, accidentally puking on it, or putting it up for auction on eBay. I haven't done any of those things, obviously, but I sure as hell want to. I'm going to miss my plane. God, I do not want to get on that plane, but my job is at stake.

I saw the disappointment in Jisoo's gaze when I told her I couldn't attend the wedding. I also saw the delight in Nayeon's. After that meeting I went home, consumed a bottle of wine, ate a whole baker's dozen of Magnolia Cupcakes, puked up the contents of my stomach, and resolved to put on my big-girl panties and see this wedding through 'til the end. Plus, Nayeon had been gloating all week at the office, and she was not getting my promotion.

I will not miss my plane.

I will not miss my plane.

I will not miss my plane.

Though, would it really be the worst thing if I did? It'd mean I'd get to go back to bed with my new friend the head cold. I could curl up with Kai, and Kuma, and watch Supernatural from start to finish, and I wouldn't have to look at Chaeng and Chan's lying faces ever again. Not the worst thing ever—though there would no doubt be questions. My mother would be calling me every five seconds until I answered. I could always get a new phone? But despite Jisoo giving me a free pass, I'd lose my shot at that promotion, and as much as I love my job, I cannot work under Nayeon again. Ever. Besides—thanks to her forgetting to pick it up—I have the wedding gown, and as tempting as it is to throw it onto the tarmac, I have a job to do.

I dash up to the gate just as the hostess is gathering her things. Beyond her, the doors to the jetway are closed, despite there being another twenty minutes until departure. "Please," I pant collapsing against the counter in a heap. I really need to work on my cardio. "I have to get on that flight."

"I'm sorry, ma'am, they've already closed the doors."

"No, you don't understand." I sniff, digging around in my pocket for a Kleenex. I hold my finger up to indicate that she should wait as my body is wracked with one sneeze after the other. "If I'm not on that plane I lose my job, Nayeon will get that promotion, my family will never forgive me, and neither will my so-called best friend, not to mention that it will look deliberate because my ex-fiancé is marrying my ex-best friend, and the groomsman is a jackass who I'll be forced to see every holiday when our parents get together, and I really can't afford to miss that flight." Sneeze. Cough. The woman glares at me as if I've lost my damn mind. "My whole life—and Kai and Kuma's lives—depend on you letting me on that flight."

I take a deep breath. The hostess seems equal parts stunned and irritated, as if she's having a hard time believing I said all of that without the need for oxygen. She rolls her eyes and holds out her hand. With an audible squee, I offer up my boarding pass. She checks it, picks up the scanner, and the loud, electronic beep confirms that she's decided to take pity on me.

I breathe a sigh of relief and smile. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

"Oh honey, don't thank me. If you're going to the wedding of your best friend to your ex-fiancé, you should be thanking god for the tequila you'll be drowning yourself in at the reception."

I smile, but inside I'm dying. Not because I feel anything other than hatred and disgust for Chan right now, but because it finally sinks in that I'm on my way to this wedding, and now there's no way out.

I watch the hostess as she opens the door and radios the plane. Okay, this is it. I'm doing this. I'm really doing this. I'm a strong, single woman. I don't need an asshole like Chan to make me feel validated as a person. I am woman, hear me—

"Well, don't just stand there. Go," the hostess says.

I shoot her a sheepish grin.

"Right, going." I run down the jetway, carting Chaeng's wedding gown and my carry-on case. As I hurry onto the flight I'm met with a whole bunch of unimpressed faces, all glaring at me. The attendant checks my boarding pass and directs me down the aisle to coach with a dismissive hand gesture. I glance around the first-class cabin and meet Chaeng's anxious gaze.

"Where were you?" she whisper-hisses.

I set my carry-on at my feet and blow my sweaty bangs out of my face. "Deciding whether or not to light your dress on fire."

"Oh my God." Chaeng places a hand over her heart.

"Don't worry, it's still in perfect condition, and I haven't let it out of my sight." I gesture to it, and then glance at Chan sitting beside his bride-to-be. "You might want to think about doing the same with Chan, since he has a tendency to wander."

Behind them, Lisa chuckles. So does the Hottie McHotpants beside her. I blush and attempt to move past, but Chaeng grabs my arm. "Don't smoosh it all up in the cabin back there, will you?"

"I'll sit it in my lap. Hey, Chan, isn't that what you did to Chaeng?"

"Ooh," Lisa says. Chaeng turns to glare at her.

"That's enough, Jennie," Chan says.

"You know what? Just give it to me. I'll handle it myself," Chaeng huffs.

"That's what she said," the dark-haired man beside Lisa chimes, and hits an imaginary cymbal like you would at the end of a bad joke.

I smile at him. He winks back, and Lisa all of a sudden looks pissed.

I clutch the dress tightly and turn my attention back to Chaeng. "I can do this. I have this."

"No." Chaeng attempts to snatch it from me. "I'd really rather take care of it myself."

"Okay, sure. Here you go." I dump it into her lap and feel as if a weight has been lifted.

With a curt smile to the air hostess, who was more than likely coming to kick me off the plane, I pick up my suitcase and move down the aisle to my seat beside Nayeon. She shoots me a smug smile and says, "You made it. For a second there I thought you'd miss the flight."

"Nope. I'm here."

"And the dress? You didn't forget the dress, did you?"

"No, I didn't forget."

Nayeon blushes. "Well, where is it?"

"In first class with Chaeng."

"Oh, great." She clears her throat and flicks through the notebook in her hand. "Well hurry up and get sorted. I want to go over the plan for tonight's luau. I was looking at our event timeline, and I just don't think it's going to work. We're going to need to shuffle a few of the speeches, and given your behavior in the last week we should just get rid of that maid of honor speech all together."

I repress an eye roll, stow my luggage in the overhead compartment, and slump down in my seat. The one beside me is empty, and I'm grateful for small mercies. Once Nayeon's finished reorganizing everything and everyone, maybe I'll get some shut-eye. Between the coughing and sniffling all week, God knows I could do with more sleep.

"Fine by me," I say, when I realize she's actually waiting for a response.

As I listen to Nayeon drone on I find myself wishing I'd missed the flight. Then Chaeng really would have had something to be angry about. I've bent over backwards since she asked me to be her maid of honor, and all I got in return was a slap in the face. She doesn't trust me with Chan because she doesn't trust Chan. She doesn't realize that even now I'd never hurt her, not the way they did me. A lump forms in my throat. I swallow back my frustration. I don't love Chan, so why does their betrayal hurt so much?

Maybe it's because I love Chaeng. She's been a part of my family since before we were old enough to wear training bras, long before Chan ever came along. Maybe it stings so much because she was supposed to have my back, and instead she was schtüping my fiancé behind it. Whatever the case, there's nothing for it now. I still have a job to do and a wedding to oversee, and I intend to make sure it goes without a hitch.

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A short time into the flight, a man taps me on my shoulder. I glare at him from my computer, take in his dark hair, hazel eyes, the tattoos, and that smirk that's strangely familiar. It's Lisa's seatmate. "Little Jennie Kim, all grown up. It's good to see you again, Pop Tart."

Pop Tart? Only two people in the entire world have ever called me that infuriating name and two of them happen to have a surname that rhymes with Mano-ball, but surely this is not . . . no. It can't be. Can it?

"June?" I roll my gaze over him appreciatively.

"The one and only."

"Oh my God, looks like I'm not the only one who's grown up," I say, scooting into the empty seat so he can sit down. A quick glance at Nayeon shows she's still asleep with her eye mask in place, her mouth open, and a thin line of drool escaping her lips to pool on her shirt. I lower my voice to a whisper and turn back to June. "How are you?"

"Well, I'm not heading to some douchebag-who-left-me-at-the-altar's wedding with what looks like the zombie plague, so I'd say I'm feeling a shitload better than you are right now."

"I'm fine. It's just a head cold, and he didn't leave me at the altar. He slept with my best friend before we could even make it there." I take a deep breath and release it slowly, focusing my anger on something more productive, like landing that promotion. June's mouth quirks up in the corner, as if he can't figure me out. He no doubt thinks I'm crazy. "But enough about my awesome life, what's new with you? You are heading to the douche bags' wedding, right? Please say yes. One weekend alone with only your sis to torment me was enough."

He laughs, and it lights up that perfect hazel gaze. "I heard about that. My condolences. And yes, I'm headed to the same place you are. Not sure why. Chan and I were never friends, but it will keep the robots happy and there's free booze. So hey, who am I to turn it down?"

He presses the call button and an annoyed-looking stewardess comes to see what he wants. When she recognizes his face, she balks. "Mr. Manoban, is everything alright? You're not in your seat."

"No, I'm not. Great observation there . . ." he glances at her name tag, "Sandra. Four bottles of champagne please."

"Er, I'm afraid I can only bring one at a time per person here in coach, but if you'd like to return to your seat—"

"And miss talking to this beautiful young woman? Not likely."

"June, you don't have to stay," I say, touching his forearm. He glances down at my hand on his and grins.

I'm suddenly struck by the fact that I'm no longer talking to June Manoban, the little curly haired boy who followed Lisa, Chan, Chaeng and I around when we were teens. This is an entirely different person. He's a man now, and while he's incredibly different from his sis, he certainly has those Manoban good looks. Those siblings hit every cell in the genetic gene pool, and then some.

"I want to," he whispers. "Besides, sitting next to you is a lot better than sitting beside my sis. I'm surprised her snoring hasn't brought the plane down."

I laugh. "She does snore pretty loudly."

June cocks a brow and gives me a wan smile. "And you would know this how?"

I roll my eyes. "Er . . . no, it's not like that at all. I shared a room with her in Vegas and . . . she may have helped me through a rough spot a couple of weeks ago."

June's brows shoot skyward. "Really?"

"Uh-huh."

The stewardess saves me from having to discuss it further by returning with our drinks. We thank her, and she sashays away, though she doesn't look happy.

June leans over, unclasps my tray table, and pours champagne for the both of us, and just when I'm about to turn the conversation onto safer subjects than Manoban the Ass, he asks, "What kind of rough spot?"

"Oh, you know. The kind where you get so drunk you head out for cupcakes and wind up falling face-first into a cab, and they call the paramedics, and then you're forced to fight off some big crazy freak who thinks you need her help to get home safely because you have a concussion."

"Um, nope. Can't say I know that feeling well," June says with a grin.

"Just me then?" I raise my plastic cup and clink it with his before downing my champagne in one go.

"So, what happened then? She spent the night? That's not like my sis, unless there's wild sex involved."

"Nope, no sex. I passed out on the couch and the bastard took my bed. I woke in the morning and she was shaking the walls with her snoring."

"Man, what an ass." June winks. "I mean, how dare she help you get home safely and make sure you didn't fall into a coma?"

"Right?" I laugh. "I'm so glad you understand."

June and I talk for a while longer. We order another round and he tells me all about his latest band, his plans to stay in New York, and Lisa's newfound celibacy. That last one takes some convincing. Eventually, he decides to head back to his seat, but he surprises me by kissing my cheek before he stands. "You'll save me a dance at the reception, yeah?"

"Oh, come on, you don't want to dance with me. There will be scores of young women wanting to skip the dancing and head straight back to your bungalow, I'm sure."

"Well naturally, but I only do that with the ones I actually like." He gives me that all-too-familiar Manoban grin and walks away.

I sink down into my seat and let out a deep breath. June Manoban is fully grown, and just as big a flirt as his sis, it seems.

"Okay, who was that?" Nayeon asks, and I turn and find her eye mask pushed up on her forehead.

I clear my throat and hope to hell I'm not blushing. "I thought you were sleeping and didn't want to be disturbed?"

"It's a little difficult to sleep when the person next to you is cackling like a hen at everything he said."

"Well, I would have introduced you, but June only dates women who don't have sticks up their asses," I say. It just slips out, and before I can do anything to cover the gaff, a sense of pride swells within me.

Nayeon stares at me with her mouth gaping open. I shouldn't have said that, but honestly, I'm tired of taking shit from everyone. I'm turning over a new leaf.

Jennie Kim will be a doormat no more.

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