French Vanilla

The waves ripple back as I stare into the glimmer of the moon light reflecting onto the ocean. I realize that soon the sun will rise and I’d have to start getting things ready for the day. I take a long drag of my joint, then let it dangling in between my fingers. Exhaling the sweet smoke into rings, I take one last look out into the water, then turn and head back to the beach house. I see my best friend waiting for me with two mugs in her hand. She hands me one and I take a sip, French Vanilla, just like old times. She grabs the joint out of my fingers and puts it up to her lips, smoking whatever was left and smouldering the end. I take a moment to look at her, because this will be the last time that she is truly her own person. She giggles, breaking my concentration, then blows the smoke in my face.
“Why am I still friends with you?” I shake my head at her.
“I have no clue. I’m surprised that you haven’t killed me yet. C’mon we have got lots to do.” She grabs my hand and pulls me into the chaos that has taken over the house. People running around and yelling about things that I have no clue what they are about.
Trying not to spill my coffee, I follow her as she pulls me up the stairs. We head into her room and she sits down at her vanity and I pull up a chair to sit next to her. I spin her towards me and set our coffees down. I rummage through the desk drawers pulling out all the makeup and start doing Lauren's makeup. Two hours later we are both dolled up and Lauren helps me zip up my gold dress.
She steps up onto the podium and then into her gown, careful not to step on the lace, and I zip her up. Grabbing her veil I gently comb it into her hair. I softly drape the veil around her face and straighten out the skirt. I step back and take a mental picture of how beautiful and happy she is. My eyes start to water and it finally hits me, she’s moving on with the love of her life and I’m still here by myself. She sees that my eyes are red and puffy and she starts to cry too. “I told you, no crying at my wedding. If you cry then I’m going to cry and ruin the makeup you did so stop.” She jokingly hits my arm and tries to wipe her tears carefully. I grab her hand and squeeze it tightly. “It’s time love.” I grab our coffees and hand one to her. “Cheers to many more French Vanilla mornings with you.”