The Wedding

After a disheartening weekend in NM with the Principal I returned to my routine only to get sick. Crappy cold took me down. In my miserable state I couldn't help but notice how I would call my sis and mom to complain (poor Meggie getting a 7 a.m. status update on my pity party) but felt it was useless to look for sympathy from the Principal. He didn't ask so I didn't tell.

When he returned to AZ to attend a friend's wedding he acted as if I was getting better. I tried to downplay how shitty I felt. As if to compete with my illness he was cranky about the fact I don't own an ironing board and we were running late to the wedding.

Now, picture this. I'm in a cute little black dress, all done up and this guy has to ask why women are always so okay with being late. I batted my fabulous eyelashes and... Nothing. Apologies were croaking out of my mouth but his irritation overshadowed everything else. Finally, I just stared out the window and wondered when I lost my appeal.

The wedding started an hour late. I was a bit smug but had no one to share that with. As the evening wore on we started to have a good time. I was feeling high on the attention he was giving me, the fact he danced with me made my heart sing, and I thought maybe this strange undertone was dissolving.

We had a conversation about weddings. How difficult they can be to organize, expensive. Looking around me I couldn't help but think it was too much. The Principal didn't agree. He'd want to do it up right, with all the trimmings. Something akin to panic coursed through my blood. Every little girl dreams of a big wedding, but now that I'm an adult I can think of better things to do with twenty grand rather than throwing a generic party.

Casually, which in my case is pretty direct, I told the Principal my mom couldn't afford to contribute to her daughter's weddings so whatever Meghan and I do, we're footing the bill. He came back with "I'm sure my parents would help out." I gave him a look. "And I have money stashed away." It was a strange comment. Were we really discussing this.

I quickly jumped in with a comment that only a Republican would have money "stashed away" and they should be smart enough not to blow it on an expensive wedding. I could tell he didn't agree but dropped the subject. Phew.

Leaving the wedding I suggested we meet my mom and her out of town friends at the hotel they were sampling. The Principal looked irritated and commented he wanted to take me home and have sex. Romantic, right? One minute he's talking about paying for a white wedding and the next he's Mr. Forward. I rolled my eyes. Wasn't it just the weekend before that sex was the last thing on his mind?