“Ella! You look beautiful!” Mrs. Sparrow exclaims. I twirl around in my bright, hot pink dress with black polka dots on it. “You just… glow!” She laughs. “Sorry I couldn’t think of a better word, Ella.”

I smile back at her. “That’s fine, Mrs. Sparrow. And thank you for the compliment and buying me this dress. I’ve always wanted this one!”

“Oh, call me Willow,” she says kindly. “Also, it’s no trouble. You are going to be a part of the family. It seems like you already are.”

I gulp, and this goes unnoticed by Willow. A bunch of butterflies form in my stomach whenever I think about the… my wedding.

Shut up and chin up, Ella!

So I do, despite the fact that my best friend betrayed me, Ian was hiding something from me, and that Mr. Rollo looks as corny as ever. I put on my best “I-feel-fine” face and walk out to the backyard.

***

I meet up with Ian on the dance floor after escaping the congratulating relatives on both his side and mine. “Hey,” I say, out of breath. He looks really good in a black suit with his hair combed back and… what am I saying?!

He smirks as though reading my thoughts. “You look beautiful.”

I blush. I haven’t exactly been told that by a lot of people except for… Evan.

“Let’s dance!” I blurt out. I drag him out onto the dance floor, and everyone clears. “Ladies and gentleman,” the DJ said, “the future bride and groom.” Polite applause follows, and my blush deepens. Thank you, Mr. DJ.

Ian’s hands find my waist, his fingers gripping around my waist, and I gently set my hands on his shoulders. Some weird sort of ballroom song emanates from the speakers, and I sigh contently. This isn’t so bad.

I see Susan from where I dance with Ian. I scowl. “Ian…”

“What?”

“Who invited my ex-best friend?!”

“And, who would that be?” he asks, leaning in with twinkling eyes. He must think this is a joke, but it’s clearly not.

I glare at him. “It’s not funny! Why is Susan Siberon here?!”

Dumbfounded, he looks at me. “Susan? How do you know her?”

“How do you know her?!” Once again, Ian proves he is really good at pissing me off at a moment’s notice. I guess that is just Ian’s special talent. Let’s all give him five stars! NOT!

“She’s my ex–girlfriend,” he whispers softly.

That’s when the gun fired. Really, an actual gun!