"Wedding invitations?" Theresa had the kitchen table quite occupied with cards, lists, and envelopes. . I chose a sugar cookie from Mrs. Hanson's jar, and sat across from her.

"How'd you guess?" she sighed, and exhaustedly let her forehead fall to her hands. "I know my parents can't afford all this. We decided on a hundred people at the very beginning. Then we remembered there were a few others forgotten. Then those few turned into twenty, which turned into . . ."

"How many are on the list?" I interrupted.

"356."

"356? Whew. Good luck," I snorted.

"Thanks a lot, Haley, for your undying support."

"I'm sorry. I'm just thankful you're the one getting married, and not me."

"That's not really the issue. If I had my choice, we'd elope. If we can survive the wedding, it'll be a match made in Heaven."

"Where are you going for the honeymoon?"

"Disneyworld," she smiled.

"Disneyworld? Ha!"

"Don't make fun of it. It happens to be the happiest place on Earth. Where would you go if you were having a honeymoon?"

"I refuse to answer that question."

"Why?"

"First of all, I'm not getting married anytime soon. And second, if I was, I wouldn't have a honeymoon. The whole institution of it is pointless. Why would you want to spend every living breathing second of a vacation with the same person you have to spend the rest of your life with? I've never been able to stand one person with me for a day, let alone a week. Heaven forbid my entire life." I was half joking, half serious. Personally, I believed I cited a good point.

"Of all the heartless things, Haley," she grinned. "Besides, the question was purely hypothetical. If some man was to ask for your hand today, and you accepted, where would you most want to go?"

"It's a tie. Las Vegas and New York City. Tay and I would have to make stops at both." I caught myself after I'd said his name. It was too late, though. I pushed the cookie away from me. I was no longer hungry, of course--too busy eating my words.

"Ah, future plans revealed, Mrs. Morgan-Hanson. I knew it. You try to hide your emotions from everyone except for him, but it doesn't take a genius. So when should I be expecting an invitation from my future brother-in-law and his bride-to-be." She had a way of categorizing me that left me feeling uneasy.

"Doubtful at all, unless the brother you're speaking of is Zac." She shook her head.

"Why so unsure?"

"Taylor isn't the marrying type. Truth of the matter is, I'm not either. I'm nineteen years old, and a newly crowned college sophomore. I have a little life left in me, yet. I consider marriage surrendering to a power bigger than yourself, and I'm not one to surrender easily."

"Haley, you have issues." I broke a smile.

"What are yours?" She looked thoughtful for a moment, as if she might answer truthfully, but as it often does, her unwillingness to surrender took over her honesty.

"My issue right now is how to get these invitations done."

"That, I can help you with."

"Tomorrow night, my friends are throwing me a bridal shower. You should definitely make it."

"I don't know what to get you, Theresa."

"Get whatever you think we might need. It doesn't matter. It'll start here at seven, okay?"

"Sure, I guess. But listen, don't blame me if your present sucks."

"Fine. I won't hold you personally accountable."

"Taylor I just don't know what to get for this shower. I keep drawing a blank. Any ideas?"

"Will you shut up about the shower, already? The future of our world isn't existing solely upon what gift you give Theresa. Therefore, I'm not interested." He shifted a little on the couch, moving me with him. I rested my head on the sofa cushion. Taylor and I had managed to spread out together on the couch, and while I pondered gift choices, he pondered the meaning of life as read by Dawson's Creek.

"I can't believe you watch this show. You're a boy. Boys hate Dawson."

"Who says?"

"Says me. This was strictly a girl's thing. My friends and I used to obsess about this show. You're not exactly allowed to change that. I'm surprised they're still making new episodes."

"They're not. The characters graduated last season, and the writers ran out of SAT words to dot the script. Never fear, though, the WB plays reruns of it every night after Saved By the Bell "The Next Generation."

"You doof."

"Dawson Leary has it all. That Katie Holmes is such a babe."

"Taylor!" I lightly slapped his arm.

"Oh no you don't. My cheek's still sore from when you smacked me last time. That kiss just proved everything, though."

"What did it prove?" I narrowed my eyes.

"Your anger and all that aggressiveness you pelt out at me is just sexual tension."

"Taylor! In your dreams."

"I don't have to dream. I've got all I want, wide awake."

"That's it. I just raided every kitchen store in all of Tulsa, and I couldn't find a damn thing."

"Haley, this shower isn't a "pots and pans" type of party," Taylor smiled.

"What are you talking about?" I tossed his keys on the table.

"Well, I was talking to Isaac, and he said this was a lingerie party."

"Well, I still have some new stuff from the Victoria's Secret sale a week ago. I'll just pick out a pair, and take it to the shower tonight."

"What if you used my MMMBop idea?"

"Well, I don't know where I could find a pair of panties with MMMBop written across the butt, Taylor. But you seemed to know where I could find such a treasure, lead the way."

"You actually think I bought those? They don't exactly sell those items in a MOE catalog. I just wrote it on with a permanent marker."

"Well in that case, do you have a Sharpee?"

I flashed an unsure smile, and joined Theresa's friends in the living room. A pile of gifts decorated the coffee table, and I dropped mine down with them. This would certainly be an exciting night, considering the fact that I was completely sure I was giving the most amusing present. Those women couldn't top mine.

"Haley, you made it!" Theresa was all smiles and excitement.

"Well, it was tough not to, considering you're set up just downstairs from my bedroom." She smiled, and gave me a half hug.

"Come on. Punch and cake are over there," she pointed.

"I'll have some later, thanks. You look so great, Theresa. As much as you try to say that the wedding is tiring you out, I think it's actually added a spark of light to your face." I plastered a smile on my face, thankful that I got my shiny, happy line correct. I felt like a young Julia Roberts in My Best Friend's Wedding. All of Theresa's pals seemed to have incredible Southern accents, and blonde hair. I stuck out like a sore thumb.

"Aww. Haley, you're too much." I succeeded in making her feel even happier than she already was.

"Now, it's seven o'clock. Let's roll with it." I've never been able to understand why I get that way. At parties where presents are involved, I only want to get to the opening part, even when I'm not on the receiving end of the deal.

"Yes, Drill Sergeant. I'm ready for my presents, too," she giggled. Guys, sit down. Come on," Theresa instructed. She handed a paper plate and roll of Scotch tape to another blonde, who sat down beside her. "Now, all of you know each other, but I'd like to introduce you to Haley."

"Hi, Haley," they chorused and waved to me. Visions of AA meetings melted the wall I had built to separate myself from the happy blondes. I despised introductions like these. They singled me out, stared at me, and made me feel more uncomfortable. They seemed to follow the unspoken directions of making me feel as out of place as humanly possible.

"Hey everybody," I waved, and rested my jaws from the fake smile I'd been wearing since I'd entered the room. Theresa smiled proudly.

"And thanks to Michelle," she waved her hand to the girl with the paper plate, "my best friend and maid of honor. She maid this delicious cake for us." Cue more smiles and unnecessary laughter.

"Oh, you're welcome, Theresa. You know it's the least I could do. Now, let's get to the fun part. Open your presents!" Theresa smiled, and picked up a rather large, floral wrapped box.

"Now, this is from Misty." Misty blushed and nodded. Theresa was the type to save wrapping paper, so she carefully pulled it off. Heaven help us all if it should tear. "Oh, what pretty wrapping. Oooh a toaster!" Theresa squealed. "I was hoping I would get one of these."

She then began the age old process of passing around the present. I've seen it about a million toasters in my day, and one more isn't going to change my feelings on peanut butter toast. I racked my brain to think of something I could say about the gift, like every other woman was doing as the toaster came to them.

"This one has a nice range of heat settings, Theresa. Wow," I spat out, and handed the toaster to a proud Misty. It was then that I questioned what exactly a toaster had to do with lingerie. As Theresa pulled out a set of Ginsu knives, I also wondered how knives could connect to certain intimate apparel. "Oh, look. I hear these knives can cut through tin cans," I marveled when the case came to me. The idea of pocketing one to stab Taylor with also came to mind, but with the cutting power of Ginsu, I knew I couldn't short out Theresa of these fabulous kitchen utensils.

Gift by gift, it became more apparent to me that Taylor wanted nothing more in his life than to destroy mine. It also became more apparent that I had to get that lingerie. I stood up to stretch nonchalantly, and made my way to the refreshment table. I sliced myself a piece of cake, as Theresa continued to go through her newfound collection of cookie cutters and oven mitts.

"My goodness," I whistled, "that is one impressive hat!" Michelle held up the hat she'd made out of all of the bows and ribbons from Theresa's presents. The paper plate was almost completely covered. I've never understood this tradition either. What good is making a hat out of a paper plate that will only embarrass the bride to be, anyway? Anyhow, I decided to take it as a cover, judging as those at wedding showers seem to be so fond of the tradition.

"It really does have quite a lot of pretty bows. Look at yours, Misty." While Michelle babbled on about the hat, I picked up my package located right near my foot.

"I've got an idea. I'll go get my camera, and come back down soon, so we can take a picture of you in your hat."

"Oh, no you don't. It's bad enough that you guys have to see me in it. There's no way I'm putting it on photograph paper."

"It's a great idea. Go get it, Haley," Michelle smiled. I slipped out of the room, to the tune of a maid of honor trying to convince Theresa to wear her bow hat.

Once in my room, I pilfered through my drawer to find the camera. I smiled to myself, glad my plan had worked. I stretched, and decided to go back downstairs, but something alerted me there was trouble in paradise. Theresa's gasp could be heard throughout the household. I jumped up, and ran down the stairs, camera and present in hand.

The sight wasn't a pretty one. The group of women turned to me, stunned, and disapproving. I must've picked up the wrong package, because Theresa was now holding an authentic MMMBop designed underwear set. I could tell by the look on her face that she wasn't quite sure of what to do with it. "I'm so sorry. Taylor told me it was a . . . not a "pots and pans" party," I muttered.

"What are you doing with my present?" One woman accused me of stealing.

"I thought it was mine." Why did I have to use generic wrapping paper?

"It's okay, Haley. I told you to get whatever you thought I'd need, and I guess . . ." She attempted to make me feel better, but it wasn't working.

"Well, I'm Theresa's mother, and the only one here that's been through marriage," the oldest guest announced. Oh no! Her mother? Haley, you're the most horrible person. How could you? "And I'll let you know," she continued. "Over toasters and oven mitts, those will be needed most when you first get married. Haley, you know how to pick a gift." My wide eyes went best with Theresa's crimson cheeks. But I guess Theresa's mom had it right, though, toasters come and go, but good lingerie is more valuable than a thousand oven mitts.