Queenie and I returned home exactly two days and three hours away from Brynna's wedding. Of course, I was happy to finally have something to do that wouldn't get me killed, but Queenie was already trying to hang herself so she wouldn't have to wear a dress.
As most brides, Brynna woke at three thirty in the morning, and I was up because I already couldn't sleep.
I was lying in bed, waiting until my clock would finally say 6am so I could get up without Queenie yelling that I woke her up. That's when I heard my door creak and a foot step inside.
On instinct, I grabbed a knife from under my pillow and turned around, ready to throw it at the intruder. Before the wood with my full name carved on it could leave my hand, Brynna whispered loudly:
"Kennedy, it's me!" She was shocked, but as much so as a normal person would be. She knows I have plenty of reason to have a knife with me at all times.
"Sorry, I was just, trying to get back to sleep." I stutter, trying not to laugh at her exasperation.
"It's fine, you're fine." She walks in, and promptly sits on my bed, touching the tip of my spine, raising her eyebrows. We worked out a little signal with the family, or at least they did. Apparently I have to have my back checked on every five minutes.
"It's fine." I say, taking her hand away. She just smiles.
"You ready?" I ask, but she doesn't even think about her answer.
"As I'll ever be."
"Well, you better enjoy it while it lasts. You don't get to see me in a dress very often." We laugh, and go off to terrorize the rest of the house.