Miss Impractical Pants Read Online Free Page A

should get these two crybabies to the dining room,” Rob suggested. Bringing his arms in front of him in a long, exaggerated stretch, he gave Katie a playful shove. “I’m starving, and the sooner everyone gets seated, the sooner we eat. You take lumpy here,” he smiled down at his pregnant wife, then glanced at Katie. “And I’ll take C-3PO.”
    “No way! You take the Round One,” Dylan joked.
    “Ow!” they both cried as Anna bit one, then the other on the arm—a defense she’d been using since the third grade. Katie rubbed her arm, thinking how much less it hurt back then when Anna was missing most of her front teeth.
    “Come on, man, it’s always been my boyhood dream to have a life-size Star Wars action figure.” Rob picked up both of Katie’s arms and began to work them in violent punching motions, making the accompanying sound effects.
    “And I’ve always wanted to be seen with a high-dollar prostitute,” Dylan replied.
    Katie wanted to laugh, but she couldn’t, not with Jared standing at the front of the chapel boring his gaze into her.
    Anna stood and grabbed Katie’s arm, dragging her into the aisle, “Let’s go. These two can stay here and play out their sick fantasies.”
    “This couldn’t get any more perfect! It’s like Christmas morning!” Rob howled with delight. “Tell me they don’t look like C-3PO and R2-D2 standing there together.” Tossing the little point-and-shoot camera he kept in his jacket pocket to Dylan, he shimmied in between the two women. “Dyl, get a picture of me with the two droids, will ya?”
    Dylan obliged, extracting a promise from Rob to return the favor.
    No sooner had Rob and Dylan swapped places than a tense arm curled around Katie’s waist, pulling her away from the others.
    “Come on, Katie, I’ll help you to your table,” Jared plowed into the moment.
    “Um…uh…okay,” Katie mumbled, distracted by her friends’ conspicuous glances.
    “See you at dinner, 3PO.” Rob saluted, making no attempt to hide his smile.
    Maybe if Jared displayed some conversational skills, Katie wouldn’t have felt her breasts beginning to sag with age. But he didn’t. He just wore a dopey grin, and Katie couldn’t shake the feeling she’d squandered years instead of seconds in his company.
    “Thanks.” Katie forced a smile at Jared as he insisted on helping her into her seat.
    Jared nodded. “You’re welcome.”
    He’s not leaving? Why isn’t he leaving? He lingered statue-still and silent by her side—very Secret Service-like—until the lights dimmed and he was obligated to take his place among the bridesmaids and other groomsmen.                            
    Anna put her hands to her mouth as if she were talking into a radio. “Pshhttt, Captain, it looks like the golden nugget has encountered a Klingon.”
    Laughter exploded from the table. Seated two tables in front, Heather’s sister shot them angry glares and shushes . Her directorial debut, The Life and Times of Christopher and Heather, was about to start, and she was bent on having a captive audience for the soul-sucking slideshow. But Anna’s attention span was gobbled up before Christopher had reached puberty. “So, I learned through the grapevine that your Klingon friend is a cop,” she whispered.
    “That explains a lot,” Katie murmured.
    “He’s kind of hot, don’t you think?” Anna studied the tablecloth, pretending to be casual.
    “Not hot enough to hold this conversation.” Katie was not oblivious to the eavesdroppers around the table and hoped to rip all speculations out by the roots. However, Anna bulldozed right over the “case closed” vibe.
    “What’s wrong with this one?”
    “Nothing, he’s just not my type.”
    “Oh jeez.” Anna rolled her eyes. “Your type only exists in your imagination.”
    Katie pretended to be enthralled by the slideshow.
    “So what makes this one not your type?” Dylan joined in.
    Katie threw a scowl at him and