Disoriented

Most bridal party and out-of-town guests gather at Hugo and Diana’s before we all climb into cars and head to the chapel for the wedding rehearsal.

Stick and I pull out of their complex and immediately make a wrong turn. We make another wrong turn a moment later. And another, until we’re facing the opposite direction from where he intended to go.

“The others might have to wait a couple minutes for us,” I said, “but I’m sure they won’t start without us.”

“They can’t.” Stick said. “They’re following me.”