"Rehearsal time!" Jane announced, bouncing into the music room.

Jeffrey was with Batty at the grand piano. She hummed the chorus of their most recent cover while he retrieved his clarinet. They joined Jane in the hallway – Batty, perfectly enthusiastic; Jeffrey, grudging.

"Now to find Skye." Jane pranced away with the others in tow. "Is it just me, or is she doing none of the work for her own wedding?"

"She said she would never plan one herself," said Batty. "You can't blame her for piggy-backing."

Jane wasn't really complaining, though she did think it rather amusing that the only two people who remained missing from the rehearsal were Bride and Groom B.

She stuck her head in room after room, until she finally found Skye. Skye and Dušek. Jane swung the door wide open and laughed loudly.

Dušek was on top of Skye on the couch, kissing her far too sensually for an unlocked room. Jeffrey couldn't look away. The things that were the hardest for him to see were neodymium magnets for his gaze, their pull too strong to escape.

"We're the ones getting married. Aren't you supposed to wait for us?" said Dušek. He kissed Skye a little more, blessedly with much less tongue. Not one for PDA, Skye turned her face.

"We have a schedule to maintain," said Jane. "Keep it in your pants, good sir."

"But—" Dušek teased. More kissing, this time all over Skye's neck. It was now a joke. Jeffrey didn't find it funny.

Skye pushed Dušek backward. "Later."

He helped her to her feet, only to put his arms around her and continue kissing her face. Usually, Jeffrey thought that the flagrant, open affection that soon-to-be married couples often displayed was endearing. Not this affection. Not this couple.

Batty was standing close beside Jeffrey. She slowly stretched out a finger and brushed it down the back of his hand. It was a small comfort, and one that wasn't very helpful.

Skye smiled, but she pushed Dušek away again. "Later."

"Oh alright," he said, disappointed.

Skye and Dušek joined them at the door. Jane snatched up Skye's left hand on sight.

"What is this?" she shrieked, full of glee.

There was a diamond ring on Skye's finger that had not been there earlier in the day.

"I asked my mom to bring that for her," said Dušek. "It was my grandmother's."

"A family heirloom! How romantic," said Jane.

"Romantic schmomantic," said Skye. "I think you mean: how economical."

"I most definitely do not mean that." Jane raised Skye's hand to her face to get a close look. "It's divine! Seraphic! Glorious! A ring fit for a queen."

"What is it with you and royalty?" said Skye, taking back her hand with a show of great force. "I now outlaw all talk of queens, princesses, duchesses, and any other royal title I may be neglecting to mention at this time."

Jane curtsied. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

Skye punched her.

"Ouch!"

Skye might not have been, but the rest of the group was quite amused. Even Jeffrey laughed, though not much. He didn't appreciate Jane's royal comparisons either. They were too strong a reminder of Skye's very special day. Not that it really mattered (everything was a reminder), but the overly enthusiastic praise was a bit much. Salt on the wound.

As they made their way to the rehearsal, Dušek went on and on about the honeymoon he'd managed to throw together at the last minute – a trip to a fishing village in Spain, complete with a stargazing experience. It wouldn't be directly after the wedding, but he had booked them a spot only a month later. More salt. Jeffrey did express some excitement for them, but his comments were minimal. It was safer that way, and it was also alright, because Dušek was happy to fill the silence. He was a rather chatty guy, now that he was comfortable with Jeffrey's presence. The topic might not have been Jeffrey's first choice – he would have chosen to never hear a single detail about the honeymoon – but it did take some pressure off of him. Dušek was so happy to talk that Jeffrey didn't have to comment much at all, so long as he appeared as interested as everyone else. He was good at faking interest.

At the Greek pavilion, Lydia was waiting to coach her sisters through the wedding procession, as she had recently been asked to choreograph it. She had poured endless hard work into that duty, and she was ready to reap her reward. The trouble was that it was often difficult to get Penderwicks on task, particularly so many of them in one place.

Ben spotted them and charged over. He threw a soccer ball at Skye, who juggled it neatly between her knees before she trapped it underfoot.

"Dušek, your brothers said that there is no way us Americans could beat them in a soccer game," said Ben. "I told them they're full of it."

"They're full of it all right," said Skye.

"Game on, then?" said Ben.

"Damn straight."

"Skye!" Lydia protested from the top step of the Greek pavilion, where she stood with Alice. They both crossed their arms in disapproval.

"Sorry, Lyds. Hold that thought." Skye passed the ball between her feet, kicked it into the air, and headed it to Ben.

"Rehearsal officially on pause," said Jane, never one to pass up the opportunity for a good scrimmage.

"What happened to your tight schedule?" Dušek teased her.

"Oh, there's always time for soccer," said Jane dismissively. "We Americans cannot ignore a challenge that has been so brazenly catapulted at our feet."

Dušek snorted, just as his younger brother shouted his name from across the yard. He waved him over.

"Sorry, not this time!" Dušek shouted back. He threw his arm around Skye, for he would remain on Team USA with her. There was a chorus of booing from every Czech. Skye responded by sticking out her tongue and flipping them the bird with both hands.

Thus, the game broke out, and poor Lydia was left to wonder why it was often so hard for her sisters to pay attention to her.

Skye jogged backwards as she called, "Jeffrey, you coming?"

He patted his clarinet case. "I'll sit this one out."

He had a lot of fond memories of soccer with Skye and Jane. He wasn't willing to taint them by throwing Dušek into the mix, at least not today.

Skye shrugged. "Suit yourself."

And she was off, running for the makeshift goal that had been set up on Side USA.

Jeffrey and Batty quickly relocated to avoid getting swept up in the resulting soccer frenzy. Alec was only a little ways off, and he had just been abandoned by his dog, Dyson, who leaped out of his saxophone case sanctuary to join the game.

Jeffrey collapsed in the grass next to his father. "What are you playing?"

Alec held his saxophone in his lap. "What should I play?"

Jeffrey didn't care. He put his clarinet together, happy to take part in any supplemental music making, no matter what it was.

"Something classic," said Batty.

So Alec started to play "In the Mood", a swing song from the 1940s. Jeffrey followed suit, and Batty sang right along.

The soccer game was loud, full of frenzied dogs and plenty of shouting, both Czech and English. It distracted Jeffrey. Not so much that he couldn't play, but it rendered his clarinet an unusually ineffectual escapist instrument. He watched Skye moving about the field. Presently, she was sliding into the path of one of Dušek's brothers, knocking him clean off his feet as she swiped for the ball. She sent it ahead to Jane and stopped to help said brother off the ground. Then, away she went, waving her hands and shouting for the ball back.

Jeffrey's chest was tight, so it was a chore to blow into a wind instrument. He tired quickly but didn't stop. He hated these moments – when Skye was simply being her same old self, and it trapped him reflecting on all the reasons she had made him fall for her. It was the little things about Skye that drew him to her most, not the big moments. It was her energy, her proud opinions, natural born self-assurance and pragmatism, her deep commitment to her passions. The list went on and on, and it was a list of things Skye showed in day-to-day living. Jeffrey didn't know how to unlove her while she continued to give him reasons not to stop. It was only worse when he watched her.

Jeffrey was determined to put an end to that. He set his clarinet to the side and stood, offering his hand to Batty.

"Do you know how to swing dance?"

Batty didn't, since the only swing dancing experience she had was from a two week unit in seventh grade gym class, but she accepted Jeffrey's hand and allowed him to pull her into a dance.

Batty was easy to lead; she picked up the basic steps and soon was adding her own. That was the beauty of a swing dance: there weren't many rules. Alec carried on with the song while Jeffrey spun Batty this way and that. She twirled; she kicked out her feet when the music demanded something a little extra. Jeffrey participated in much less twirling, but he did duck under her arm from time to time to keep things interesting. Batty was a good dance partner. Despite all spinning and jumping, their hands didn't break apart even once.

"Is that a smile I see, Jeffrey Tifton?" she said, a little breathless from the vivacious dance.

"I can still have some fun, you know." Fun was in short supply at the moment, but he found it when he could. He treasured it when he did.

"Good. I wasn't sure."

"Am I really that mopey?" Jeffrey said apologetically. He'd tried not to be.

"No, but I have noticed quite a lot of fake smiles." Batty poked his face. "This one is real."

Jeffrey smiled bigger, because she was right. It was real. He felt lighter than he had in days.

"Thanks to you, Battycakes," he said. He credited her for this fresh serenity, however brief it ultimately may be. He thought Batty was probably the only person capable of cheering him up so efficiently, because she was the only person who didn't worry him. He didn't have to watch himself around her anymore, and he didn't have to fret about any suboptimal reactions that might come if she uncovered his feelings for Skye. She already had; she knew, and she wasn't angry. She didn't blame him or look at him differently. She didn't care. There was nothing else that could bring about such relief.

"I know my mission," said Batty.

Jeffrey laughed and spun her in more circles. He tried not to be too embarrassed that Batty had made it her personal mission to lift his spirits.

Then he remembered that he'd promised himself that he would talk to her about her lingering ex-boyfriend. He had yet to do that. He drew her closer, so that they were more swaying than swinging. It was easier to talk that way.

"What about you?" he asked. "How are you doing?"

"I'm great. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because of Wesley."

"Oh." Batty's smile faltered. "I'm fine. He's been respectful and stayed on the cottage side of the hedge, so it's not like I've seen him around."

"Why not?" said Jeffrey. Having heard Batty gush about Wesley in the past, he thought that the odds that Batty was truly aloof about her breakup were quite low. They hadn't ended on poor terms; he'd have thought that she might like to see Wesley one more time before he left for good.

"I don't want to see him," said Batty, in contrast to Jeffrey's hypothesis.

"Why not?" he asked again.

"Jeffrey!" Batty objected. She tried to whirl him away, back into a more dynamic dance, but he dialed it right back down again. She sighed. "Wesley is a blacklisted subject."

"Alright," he said. "Actually, wait. Not alright. You tortured answers out of me."

"So?" Batty had a guilty expression on her face, and a wary one.

"So now I can torture them out of you."

"I don't—" Batty groaned and stamped her foot in frustration. "Oh, fine. You win."

Jeffrey was pleased with himself. "Why won't you see Wesley?"

"Oregon!" said Batty, because Wesley was moving to Oregon. "I already said goodbye once, and that was hard enough. I won't do it all over again."

"I guess I just don't understand why that goodbye had to be a forever one," said Jeffrey. He'd been in a long distance relationship himself. True, it had failed, but not because of the distance. If he had fallen for that woman the way that he'd fallen for Skye, he would have made it work. He hadn't even been the one to end it.

"He's leaving me!"

"I'm pretty sure he's leaving Massachusetts, not you." He would drop this if he thought Batty was at peace with her decision. He didn't, so he didn't.

"Jeffrey, it's the same thing," said Batty, and to Jeffrey's great dismay, her eyes welled with tears.

"Oh, Batty, don't cry." He swung her arms a little wider, for the moment letting the music take over. Alec was lost in his playing and oblivious to the quiet conversation happening around him. Jeffrey might have been more cautious had he not learned long ago that Alec didn't hear a thing when he was making music.

"You brought him up! I always cry if I talk – even think about Wesley too long. That's why I don't do it."

"I'm sorry," said Jeffrey – guilty, because his plan hadn't been to upset her. "I only meant, it doesn't have to be over if you don't want it to be."

Batty blinked until there were no more tears. She danced with hard-bitten resolve, having done more than enough crying over Wesley already. There had been two solid days in which all she had done was cry.

"I'm not dropping out of school," said Batty. She was tired of explaining this to everyone. "Not for any boy, Wesley included."

"And you shouldn't," Jeffrey agreed. "But – stop me if I'm out of line – are those really your only two options? Drop out and move with him, or break up?"

Batty didn't stop him, and Jeffrey was surprised. He was pushing it, he knew. He would have happily had this talk with Batty before the breakup, but she had not presented him with the opportunity.

"What else is there?" Batty said helplessly.

"You could give the long distance thing a shot. Did you think about that any?"

Batty shrugged. She hadn't.

"How come? Unless, of course, you can't see yourself ever moving – even after college."

He could admit the relationship would be at a dead end if that was the case. Wesley seemed certain that his destiny was nowhere in Massachusetts.

"I don't know. I've never been to Oregon," said Batty. "I can't say I'll never leave home. I have no idea where my life will take me."

"That's all I'm saying."

Batty sighed and stared off in the general direction of the cottage. "Distance would be so hard."

Now this, Jeffrey had never understood. People commonly broke up over the prospect of a remote relationship, but why? If the thought of seeing a loved one less was so painful, why was the solution to never seem them again at all?

"I live pretty far away. You haven't broken up with me yet."

Batty rolled her eyes, but she did smile at him. "You're different."

"Why?"

"You're not my boyfriend."

That did mean that it would be harder for Batty to live far from Wesley than from him, Jeffrey knew, but if he and Batty could stay in contact from such a substantial distance, why couldn't she and Wesley? There were cell phones after all.

"Is abstaining from sex for a few months at a time too difficult?" he said, to lighten the mood and, also, to have a little fun jarring her. He and Batty did not talk about that. Never ever.

Jar her, he did. Batty was aghast. "Jeffrey!"

"Sorry." He laughed. "Is it?"

"No."

"What's the problem, then?"

"I don't know." Batty shrugged, glumly moving her feet but still keeping up with the music. It was an impressive bit of multitasking – dancing through such a taxing conversation. "I don't want to have to miss him that much."

"So you want to lose him forever instead?"

"No." Batty frowned. "You're not helping."

"Am I being a bother?" That wouldn't do, though he didn't want to give up. This all felt eerily familiar – one of them denying their feelings, the other waiting for a truth they already knew to be admitted out loud.

"No," said Batty. "But there is a reason my sisters and I swore never to interfere with each other's boyfriends."

"I never took that oath," said Jeffrey. "My honor remains pure – and you interfered first. So there."

Batty pursed her lips against a laugh. They danced in silence a while before she said, "I'm not sure Wesley is even interested in a long distance relationship."

"I bet he would be," said Jeffrey. "I know he wanted you to go with him. People don't ask someone to move across the country if they don't see some sort of future with them."

"I guess I never put that option out there," Batty admitted.

"There's still time."

"Not really! He fixed his bike. He's leaving in the morning, Lydia told me."

"Why don't you ask him to stay a while longer?" Jeffrey felt like he was getting somewhere. She was considering it – he could tell. A tiny bit of hope adorned her face.

"I don't know." So much she didn't know, it seemed. "Just tell me this: if things were different…" She shot a look at Alec and dropped her voice to a precautionary whisper. "If you-know-who said she loved you back, can you honestly tell me that you wouldn't pack up and move straight to her?"

Jeffrey's gaze slid over to Skye, who was tackling Dušek in triumph – he had just scored the goal that put Team USA one point ahead of Team Czech Republic.

"That was mean, wasn't it?" said Batty. "I'm sorry. I'm supposed to be cheering you up."

"No, it's a fair question." Jeffrey thought about it for her, even though it did bring down his mood. "I wouldn't move right away. There's a lot tying me to Germany. My band, my friends – my whole life, really. I wouldn't leave all that until I'd had time to wrap it up."

"Really?" Batty almost smiled. "Penderwick Family Honor?"

Jeffrey nodded solemnly. "Penderwick Family Honor."

"Then, your opinion is valid."

"Hey!" Jeffrey protested. "I'm no hypocrite, and my opinion is always valid."

Batty laughed. "No one likes unsolicited advice, Jeffrey."

"I told you to stop me if I was overstepping!" He protested some more. "Was I? I can take it all back. Wesley, who? I don't know the name."

Batty smiled appreciatively, but she said, "You weren't overstepping."

"Okay, and if you're happy, I'll shut up," Jeffrey promised. "I just don't think you are."

Batty sighed heavily. She sent another glance toward the cottage, and more importantly, toward Wesley. "I'm not. But I know that I can be – once I, you know, fall out of love."

Jeffrey's laugh was part groan, because he knew how difficult that part was. "If you figure that out, send me an instruction manual."

It was a jocular comment, and while Batty's smile didn't share the same jocularity, it wasn't a humorless one either.

"Are you okay?" she asked for the dozenth time, and she would ask again later.

"Enough, I am. But you know what?" Jeffrey leaned in as if imparting a great secret. "I think there's only room for one broken heart at this wedding."

Batty regarded him with much sympathy, and while Jeffrey appreciated the support, he didn't want the conversation to linger on him. In some ways, he was deflecting by talking about Batty's love life, but more than that, he didn't want Batty to deflect by talking about his.

"Think about it." He nodded toward the cottage. "Invite him to the wedding. Your sisters won't mind."

"I will – think about it, that is. I don't know if I will invite him."

Jeffrey was satisfied with that, and he didn't say more. There was plenty that he wanted to, but he knew that he had already pushed Batty enough. She had to make her own choice, all he could do was hope to guide her. He didn't want her to give up Wesley, not when it was so obvious that it hurt her to. He knew the pain of suppressed love.

So well he knew it, but it was one that he was tired of feeling. Tired of dwelling on. Unlike Batty and Wesley, there was no possible future for him and Skye. There never had been, and he'd done himself no favors by longing for one.

Jeffrey looked out at the soccer game, at Skye laughing with the man who made her the happiest. Respecting and accepting her happiness – sincerely, without any selfish grousing (solitary or otherwise) – was the best way that he could love her. The only way he could. He was ready to be done with bitterness, done with heartache and fantasizing and self-pity.

Jeffrey's mouth turned up in the slightest of smiles. Skye was on top of the world, beaming with excitement over the future she was writing for herself. That was the most he could want for her. He'd be okay. He really believed that. A part of him would always be with Skye, but that was okay too – he'd just have to let it go with her.

A/N: I can't support (actually, can't stomach - but won't get into it) any sort of romance with Jeffrey and Batty, but take all of those implications away, and I really love their relationship. So, I wrote this chapter just for them :)

and also because, JUSTICE FOR WESLEY. Jeanne included him for what? She gave Batty a guy for what? Just to make him perfect for her and then have him leave forever? Caused me pointless disappointment and I am still salty about it.

Like hello? he's an artist and a handy man and he rides a motorcycle with his three legged dog? Marry me?

He was obviously included as just another person trying to convince everyone that Jeffrey and Batty were meant for each other, and he deserved a whole lot better :((