Saint-Rock High Book 1: When Bitter & Sweet Meet

TORY

Book 1: When Bitter and Sweet Meet

“Do you, Tory, take Davis to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

The second the question leaves the minister’s lips, a terrible sweat breaks over my skin. Two words. That’s all I have to say.

But I can’t.

I can’t even look at him. My high school sweetheart. The supposed love of my life. My blood hums. Stinging tears bulge in my eyes. I can taste the flavor of his betrayal.

Behind me, a small cough temporarily stops the crushing wave of despair. A reminder of what I must do.

“N-no,” I stutter, and the entire room gasps. Some take out their phones. “No, I…I…”

The clicks intensify, and the room shrinks around me. It feels like the walls are moving in. Like the air is thinning, forcing desperate breaths from my lips as my mind struggles to form words.

“He…Davis a-and Katy…”

There. I named them. Isn’t that enough? My body trembles.I can’t say more. I can’t repeat what I saw…what they ~did~.

“Were fucking in the groom’s suite,” spits Judy’s voice. My bridesmaid steps up to me, one hand on my shaking shoulder, and jabs a finger at my fiancé. “Do you know why Katy wasn’t with us from the start? Because she was too busy getting in his pants, like she has for the last two ~years~.”

“Judy, this is none of your business,” Davis yells.

His voice is angry and impatient…and not even a bit remorseful. I sink to my knees, yanking out the carefully placed pins in my hair.

“You’re pathetic,” Judy goes on, her fingers tightening on my shoulder. “You don’t think Tory walking in on her maid of honor sucking your dick is any of our business? Who do you think you are?”

I choke out a sob, willing myself to just let go. Maybe it’s a dream. Just a bad dream.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

But when I look up, the bitch—Katy—is clutching Davis’s arm.

“Judy, stop,” she says in her shrilly, frantic voice. “You wouldn’t say this if you knew—”

“Knew what? That you’re a backstabbing slut?” Judy laughs out loud. “Sorry, darling, looks like everybody knows now—”

“That we’re pregnant!” Katy gushes, and my mouth turns sour at the pride and excitement in her tone. “Are you really going to embarrass us like this, in a church? In front of my unborn baby?” She cups her stomach as if that will do any good.

I raise my eyes and turn away, still on my knees.

“I think he or she deserves to know what terrible people their parents are,” Judy says, swiping the words from my pain-filled brain. “And how they were conceived in the most classless way possible. Did you tell him before or after you started sucking him off? Or mid-blow job? I bet that was it, you just couldn’t wait—”

“That’s enough,” Davis growls, and my head snaps up when he moves forward. His hands come together, knuckles cracking.

Alarmed, I shoot to my feet and pull Judy away. To safety. No one here needs to know of Davis’s explosive aggression. Then a part of me wonders if Katy knows.

Who cares?

I hate that I do. She might be a backstabbing friend, but she doesn’t deserve to be abused.

But you do?

“Get…get me out of here,” I whimper, clawing at my friend’s arm while she’s still staring daggers at the two left up at the altar. “Please, Judy. Please.”

Her eyes are back on me. Compassion replaces the anger.

“Come on,” she whispers, wrapping an arm around my waist and covering my head from the incredulous looks on either side of the aisle.

Before we can get past the first row, a pair springs up, and two sets of warm, shaking hands grip my arms.

“Tory, honey,” my mother says. “Oh, Tory.”

She can’t say any more.

I cry freely, uncaring how terrible my makeup must look as my dad’s strong grip squeezes my shoulder.

“Ladies, gentleman,” he starts, “there appears to be a change of plans. As you’ve all just heard in, ah, excruciating detail, the wedding is off. Please allow Davis and Katy to explain.” His voice changes. “You owe my daughter that, at least.”

Whatever Davis’s response is, I don’t hear it. When my father returns, I grab his arms as if my life depends on it. “Can I go home with you?” I don’t have the strength to return to the apartment Davis and I share. Not now. Not ever.

“Of course, sweetheart,” he says, kissing my forehead while still urging us along in the stunned silence. “You don’t need to ask.”

“Judy, can you grab my stuff and bring them back to my parents’ house?” I ask.

Please say yes. Say yes, please. Please.

She squeezes once before letting go. “Of course. Don’t worry about it.”

I sigh with relief, then freeze at the sound of the bitch’s voice.

“Tory!”

Katy. My parents quicken their pace, but the sound of my maid of honor’s silk dress zeros in as she matches us. I close my eyes, open them, and turn to take in her soft expression.

God, I want to punch her square in the face. But I would never hit a pregnant lady. Her, a lady! Yeah, right. Was she a lady when she had been sleeping with Davis all this time behind my back?

Still, I can’t hate the baby. He or she did nothing to me. They’re innocent. “I…I hope you have a healthy baby,” I manage. She opens her mouth, but I turn and leave with my parents, leaving her—and my entire life—behind.