"Sawyer Mae Sweeney, were you over at the Hallahan's last night causing a ruckus in the wee hours of the morning?" My mother snaps after swiftly entering my room the next morning. Her voice is loud and warning so I push the pillow over my ears to mute her squawking. It is far too early and I am far too hungover to deal with a verbal lashing from my dramatic mother right now. But my silence seems to only infuriate her more.

"Sawyer, you are twenty-seven years old, that is too old to be stealing chickens and actin' a fool, especially in your current situation. I'm never going to be able to marry you off now!" Of course, that's what she is concerned with right now. I peek one eye open and see her next to my bed with her arms folded across her chest.

I mumble, "Austin stole the chicken." She clucks her tongue against the roof of her mouth like I just said something ludicrous.

"I highly doubt that. And if he did, I'm sure it was not his idea," she snaps. "Don't you turn my Austin into a heathen too, Sawyer. Get your act together young lady or I'm going to have to send you off to live with your Grandmother Tilly!" She swings around on the heel of her foot and marches straight out of my room, almost slamming my door on her floral dress. I don't hear her go and reprimand Austin for his participation in last night's events and as usual, I'm not surprised.

Sunshine is now splashed across my face making it impossible to fall back asleep. I roll over a few more times in attempts to get comfortable but I fail- I guess I'm up. My eyes are swollen and my temples throb from a headache. I haven't had that much to drink since the night I ran away from my wedding. And that says something, recalling the amount of alcohol I've consumed in the past few weeks.

I shower slowly, hoping the hot water will help my aching body but I'm still miserable by the time I get downstairs. Austin and Ryan are seated at our round kitchen table, slowly sipping coffee from large white ceramic cups.

Ryan is glancing over a newspaper that's sprawled out across the wide white table while Austin sits zoned out, looking out the wide bay window. His blue eyes are puffy and blonde cowlicks pop up all over his head. They look as rough as I do.

Celia, our housekeeper, comes bounding in from outside with a basket full of colorful roses but frowns when she sees the three of us.

"Well from the miserable looks takin' over y'alls faces I'm thinkin' y'all need one of my hangover shakes." She walks over to our large granite island, plopping the wicker basket on the table while I take a seat next to Austin. I reach across him to grab one of the croissants piled high on the pastry plate, but as soon as the buttery smell hits my nose, my stomach turns. Austin, Ryan and I wince as Celia starts up the blender and I instinctively pull my hands over my ears. The loud blades spin for only a few moments before Celia pops the glass pitcher from the base and pours her concoction into three glasses for us.

"Better make that four Mrs. Celia," Gus's loud voice says and I'm startled when he rounds the corner. The blender must have covered his heavy steps across the house.

"I see you survived the chicken chase Gussyboy," Austin jokes as Celia hands us each a glass. Gus takes a seat next to me and drops his arms across the newspaper Ryan was reading. Ryan glances to Gus and his obliviousness before shaking his head when Gus doesn't move his arms.

"Y'all think you're funny but I'll get ya back. Damn chicken followed me all the way to my front door. My screen door almost took his beak off when I slammed it shut it got that close to me," Gus says as he twirls one of his short, chestnut curls around his finger. I wince as I swallow the thick mixture Celia made for us but from previous hangovers, I know her mixture works. Austin makes a similar face but Gus just downs it all in three gulps.

"Well, the Hallahans phoned our mother this morning so I expect we'll have some hell to pay," Austin says while glancing to me. I roll my eyes knowing I'll be the one accepting any punishment, as I'm sure Austin will have something more "respectable" to do.

"I guess listening to mother bark at me so early in the morning wasn't punishment enough," I joke as I finish my drink. Ryan still remains quiet in the corner, twisting his glass around with his fingers. A loose wispy piece of hair sits across his forehead and I get the urge to reach across the table and tuck it back into its usual place.

"Well, I'm actually not here to relive fun poultry memories." Gus tells the table, "I need to talk to ya Sawyer," he says, suddenly turning serious. I glance to him and some of his curly hair is shading his brown eyes. He flicks his head to clear his view and nods towards the backdoor.

"Okay, let's go out back then," I suggest and glance to Austin nervously before following Gus out back. There are very few times I can recall Gus being completely serious, so it makes me nervous in the rare moments when he reveals a stern tone. He plops down in the white wooden porch swing that hangs from the ceiling and I get comfortable in my mother's rocking chair next to him.

"So what's up?" I ask him as he swings lightly from the chair. His gaze is to the floor and I'm afraid he's going to tell me someone died. Or maybe he killed the poor chicken.

"Well Sawyer, I got some bad news for ya." Gus starts, filling me with more dread. "Jackson called me up this mornin' and asked if I'd still be a groomsman in him and Whitney's weddin'." My eyes go wide in complete horror and I suddenly leap to my feet.

"Are you kidding me? You are joking right? What did you say to him?"

"I told him I couldn't be a part of it. That I honestly didn't even want an invite," he says with a shake of his head. "I told him I was friends with you first and that I had to honor our friendship. He got real annoyed sayin' I was his good friend too and that we were friends before you and him even started datin'." I'm now furiously pacing back and forth across my deck, unable to wrap my head around Gus's words.

Yes, Gus and Jackson were good friends throughout college but I've known Gus almost as long as I've known Annabeth. He can't claim him! Or use him in his wedding.

"There's more darlin'," Gus adds and I can't decide if I can handle more. "I guess Whitney basically took your wedding plans since the vendors were already paid for by the Hemmings and just created a new date. They are gettin' married at Dearwood Gardens with all the vendors you chose next week." I freeze in my tracks and look to Gus when I feel Celia's thick drink churn in my stomach. I suddenly skip down the wooden porch steps and run over to the lush green bushes that sit against the wrap around. I feel the acid reach my throat and suddenly, I'm throwing up all over my mother's azaleas. I clutch onto my stomach and Austin comes shooting out of the screen door. The bay window in the kitchen sits right over the bushes, so he got a full view of the colorful contents of my stomach if he was still gazing out of it.

Gus is already behind me, rubbing my back and I have my right hand holding back my hair. I'm hoping some of the contents spilling out of my stomach are my hatred for Whitney Carmichael because I don't think my body can handle taking on any more. She's managed to bring out emotions I didn't even know I had and now I am physically trying to get rid of her.

Once the heaving is over, I slowly stand up straight, while Austin and Ryan are on the grass behind me concerned with what I'll do next.

"I'll get you some water Sawyer," Austin says before striding back into the house and I grossly wipe my mouth clean with the bottom of my shirt. Ryan looks to me full of pity but he says nothing while Gus continues to rub my back. My eyes are full of tears but I'm unsure if they are there from my rage or the heaving. I attempt to blink them back.

At the moment I am deciding what's actually worse. Having an incredibly hot guy watch me barf into the bushes and then wipe slobber onto my tank top or having my ex-best friend marry my ex-fiancé in the dream wedding I planned.

It's a toss-up.

I finally get my wits together once I know there is nothing else in my stomach to cover my mother's flowers with and seethe, "That cow may have my house, my fiancé and my future but she cannot have my wedding!" I storm back into the house snatching the cool glass of water from Austin's hands and continue up the steps into my bedroom. I ignore my mother's dumbfounded stare as I dart right past her in the hallway.

I down the refreshing water I have in my hand and slam the glass on top of my vanity. My hands are still shaking from all the emotions I have swirling around inside me but my head is clear with only one thought.

I about to burn her wedding down.