She'd wanted to become the first person to ever say the word "fuck" at her own wedding.
I, on the other hand, was half-delirious at the thought of standing in a white dress next to her.
But on that Saturday morning, four years after the FAYZ - we'd been together for two passionate, beautiful ones – we had on the last vestiges of makeup that Taylor had managed to find. We were dressed in fragile white dresses scavenged for in the basement of some old couple's house that no one remembered.
Albert had made a cake out of scrounged-together dough. No sugar, but he frosted it with honey and decorated it with slices of apples. On the top, he placed two figurines. Two girls.
It looked like the most beautiful cake in the world to me.
Bisexual. I still marveled at the word. Bisexual. As in, Brianna is bisexual.
Out in the real world, there would be cries of outrage. It might not even legal. Had they legalized gay marriage yet? I didn't know.
When kids weren't starving, when coyotes weren't attacking and killing, when ash-stained buildings didn't tower above us as a silent reminder of what hell we'd gone through . . . maybe this world . . . maybe the FAYZ could be okay.
Ermine, an eight-year-old (whose real name no one knew) kept a garden of beautiful roses out by Clifftop. He sacrificed almost half of his garden to our wedding, and the aisle was lined with white roses.
Everyone came.
Even though it was on the grass next to the beach, and the crazy wind whipped through our hair and stung our cheeks with salt. Everyone came.
Everyone came to the second official wedding of the FAYZ – Sam and Astrid had been the first.
I stood at the makeshift alter, almost hyperventilating from fear, nervousness, whatever it was. Quinn, Albert and Mary's little brother John were "my" best men. Lana, Astrid and Taylor were the bride's maids.
Edilio would serve as priest.
And I watched as Sam led Brianna down the aisle.
She looked too beautiful to exist. My throat clogged. She smiled at me as she walked, her arm in Sam's.
She'd told me that she would wear sneakers under her dress, and I didn't doubt her.
Were we too young? Sixteen and eighteen, not even adults. But here in the FAYZ, no one was a kid anymore.
I remembered the night she'd kissed me. When we first held hands in public and she didn't flinch away. Not even when Zil's gang booed and cracked jokes about the "Mutants being even more messed up" and "looks like the fat dyke finally got some."
She'd kept her fingers intertwined with mine, even when she'd shivered and shook.
I remembered the night she'd first pulled off her sports bra with trembling fingers right in front of me, just two months ago. I remembered making love to her.
I remember when I'd hugged her and held her the entire night just a week ago when that bitch Lisa had walked up to her and told Brianna what she was doing was amoral and sinful and she would go to hell for it.
My fists tightened at the memory.
Brianna stood across from me. I made out every detailed; her mascara-ed eyelashes, the flower pattern of lace on the hem of her dress, the strand of hair that freed itself from her elaborate 'do and twisted over her right eye.
She looked at me, eyes huge and welling.
"We are gathered today on this beautiful afternoon to share with Brianna and Dekka as they exchange vows of ever-lasting love." Edilio said.
That did me in. All the wild fantasies I'd had in those two heart-shattering years that I'd been in unrequited love with Brianna . . . nothing I'd dreamed of could prepare me for the sheer joy that rushed through me.
I burst into tears. I couldn't remember the last time I'd cried, couldn't remember the last time I'd let myself feel bitter sorrow, but the tears poured down my cheeks. My mascara smudged under my eyes, probably made me look ten thousand years old, but I didn't care.
"Through sickness and through-"
And she was crying too, biting her lip and choking back her tears but they still stained her perfectly-done-up-face. She still looked beautiful. And maybe it was sadistic of me, but I loved those tears. Strong Brianna who'd refused to cry back in Caine's hellhole was now crying for me.
"Wait!"
Edilio stopped. We all turned.
A girl I didn't even know stomped down the aisle, arms crossed. "Are you guys crazy?" She shrieked at the top of her lungs. "This is wrong! This is so freaking wrong!"
Flames danced around her, burst from her skin. She gnashed her fire-colored teeth. Orange flames danced into the sky.
She was one of us. One of the freaks.
Sam's hands started to glow, but Brianna grabbed his shoulder. "Not here," She whispered. "It'll ruin the wedding."
"She's dangerous! Insane!" Sam hissed back.
"Edilio, go!" She snapped.
"Dekka, do you take Brianna as your wife?" He babbled out, fingers twitching for the gun at his belt.
"Yes," I said.
"Brianna, do you take Dekka as your wife?"
"I so fucking do," She said, and kissed me, hard, left my senses reeling. Then we lunged to counter the fire-girl's attack, hands raised.
Happiness only lasts for so long. Then you have to fight to take it back.