Jane and Mary had been inseparable since they were toddlers. They grew up in the same suburban neighborhood, attended the same schools, and sat through every class side-by-side. From cramming for exams and cutting class to dreaming up high-fashion looks and hitting local parties, they did everything together. They were like sisters, though neither had siblings of their own.
From the very beginning, Jane was the undisputed leader of their duo. She lived to be first in everything.
"Let's go skinny-dipping in the creek tonight," she'd challenge.
"Okay," Mary would whisper, always following.
There was something wild, reckless, and sharp about Jane. It bled into her behavior, her temper, and the way she spoke. She was ready to accept any dare, anytime. Whenever a crazy idea struck her, a mischievous glint—a flash of "inner demons"—would ignite in her eyes.
"Bet you I can break the physics teacher's window with a rock," she said once, her eyes dancing with anticipation.
"Are you insane?" Mary tried to reason with her. "Mr. Harrison is the grumpiest, most meticulous old man in the whole district. He'll hunt down the truth for sure. Don't risk it."
"Who dares, wins," Jane shot back, her lifelong motto. "So, what's it gonna be? You want to bet or not?"
"Fine. If you chicken out, you're doing my physics homework for a month," Mary agreed.
With the wager set, Jane would rush off to prove herself. It went on like this for years. She won every bet; for her, a dare wasn't just a game—it was a catalyst, a reason to conquer whatever goal she set her sights on.
She was the first in their grade to dye her hair and get a perm. She was the first to kiss the captain of the football team. It was Jane who talked their classmates into swiping the principal's keys to throw a party in his office.
Mary was her polar opposite: quiet, calm, a straight-A student. She hated being the center of attention, preferring to blend into the crowd.
"You're amazing, Jane. I could never do the things you do," she often told her friend.
"Oh, stop it. You could. You just need the drive and a little bit of a push."
***
Their paths finally diverged after high school. Mary got into a prestigious university, but Jane—distracted by yet another bet—blew her entrance exams.
"Jane, how could this happen? We were supposed to go together," Mary worried.
"Don't sweat it. I'll figure it out. I'm not wasting time here; I'll just go to college somewhere else."
And she did. Jane moved to Spain to live with her aunt.
"I'm heading to Madrid. The weather is better, and the opportunities are endless."
"Go for it," Mary said. "Maybe it'll be the fresh start you need. I'll write to you every week."
Jane moved to Europe while Mary stayed behind to finish her degree. They kept in touch through calls and emails. As it turned out, Jane never actually finished school. At a party in Madrid, she met a struggling rock musician and sparked a whirlwind romance that ended with her running away with him to France.
Then a young indie film director appeared on the horizon. She traveled through Germany with him. Later, her heart was captured by a commercial actor. Her life was a blur of neon lights, travel, and constant change.
"Oh, I'm so jealous! Your life is like a movie," Mary would gush during their calls. "Tell me again about the time you 'borrowed' that sponsored limo after the shoot and spray-painted it purple?"
"That was nothing," Jane would laugh, feeding off the attention. "You should hear what happened last week."
"No way! Did you really get away with that?" Mary would gasp in shock.
"Stick with me, kid. The best is yet to come."
***
Jane's life was certainly vivid, but it hadn't made her whole. She was a college dropout with no career. During her European odyssey, she had tried everything once, had three abortions, and had yet to find anything resembling real love. So, when Mary called to announce her upcoming wedding, Jane didn't feel joy—she felt a sharp, bitter pang of resentment.
"Jane, honey, I'm getting married! You're my best friend, and I can't imagine anyone else being my Maid of Honor."
"You? Married?" Jane's voice was tight. "Well, look at you. Who's the lucky guy? Where did you even find him?"
"His name is Mark. We met totally by chance. He's handsome, strong, kind... and he has the most incredible voice," Mary gushed. "You have to come out here. I want to tell you everything."
"I wouldn't miss it for the world. You know how much I love you. I'm packing my bags already."
After hanging up, Jane walked to the bathroom mirror. She studied her reflection, tracing the lines of her face.
"What is wrong with me?" she muttered. "I'm not ugly. I'm fun. I'm interesting. Why am I the one losing?"
Jane had always assumed she would be the first to walk down the aisle.
"What is going on? Where is my 'soulmate' hiding?"
"What are you mumbling about?" a husky voice called out.
It was Jane's current boyfriend—a young photographer named Jean-Louis. He rented a small studio apartment and had invited his new flame over for the weekend.
"Nothing, babe. Just an old school friend. She's getting married, so I have to go visit."
"Great. Have fun."
"Aren't you coming with me?"
"Me? No way. My schedule is packed. Shoots every day. You'll be fine on your own. Go, enjoy yourself."
"Fine. I'll leave the address on the counter just in case you change your mind."
"Don't hold your breath."
Jane turned back to the mirror, her eyes narrowing. "Can you believe it? We did everything together, and now she's the one getting married first. Where's the justice in that?"
"Wow. You're actually bothered by this."
"You don't get it, Jean-Louis. I'm supposed to be first. Always. Who is this guy anyway? What does he see in her? I bet she never even makes it to the altar."
"What are you planning?"
"Doesn't matter. You want to bet?"
"Bet you can't pull it off?"
"We'll see about that."
"In that case," Jean-Louis grinned, "I'm coming with you. I want a front-row seat to see you fail."
"You're overestimating yourself, boy."
***
The plane landed on schedule. Mary and her fiancé, Mark, met Jane and Jean-Louis at the airport.
"Jane! I've missed you so much!" Mary threw her arms around her friend. "I have so much to tell you!"
"Oh, look at this warm welcome. How sweet," Jane said, pulling back. "This is Jean-Louis."
"Hi, nice to meet you."
"Okay, enough with the mushy stuff," Jane interrupted. "Is this the legendary Mark?"
"Legendary, huh?" Mark, a handsome man with dark, wavy hair, let out a warm laugh.
"You guys are funny," the photographer added, never stopping his smirk.
"Yes, this is him. My one and only. And Mark, this is my childhood best friend, Jane. I'm so glad you're finally meeting."
Jane scanned Mark from head to toe. "He's hot," she thought. "What does he see in her? She must have really done a number on him for him to actually propose."
"Why are we standing around?" Mark said, grabbing Jane's suitcases. "Jean-Louis, let's get this luggage to the car. These ladies clearly have a lot to catch up on."
"Thanks, sweetie," Mary beamed.
Jane and Mary hugged again, and on the drive home, they talked non-stop.
"Are you staying with us, or are you going to your mom's?" Mary asked.
"My mom's? What for? I'll see her eventually, but honestly, I'm not in a rush. Besides, you're getting married tomorrow. And..."
"And what?"
"And you desperately need a bachelorette party. We need a sexy male stripper. Bet you I can seduce him in two minutes flat."
"You never change," Mary laughed. "Always with the bets."
"That's just who I am."
***
Jane's parents had divorced before she was six. They had moved to different states, and her mother had never remarried, eventually turning to the bottle. That was the real reason Jane wasn't rushing to see her.
"Since you can't throw a party without me, I'm staying with you," Jane declared. "Jean-Louis is a pro photographer. He can help your fiancé with the bachelor party. Let the boys have their fun."
"That sounds perfect!"
And so Jane stayed at Mary's. Mark brought her things in, kissed Mary goodnight, and headed out with Jean-Louis to his parents' place. Later that night, his friends were waiting for him at a club for his own send-off.
True to her word, Jane took over the bachelorette party. She ordered catering, booked a performer, bought the booze, the sweets, and the decorations.
"This is Sarah, Mark's sister. She's here to help," Mary introduced.
"Perfect. I could use an extra pair of hands."
Sarah looked Jane over. "What a piece of work," she thought to herself.
After the introductions, Jane, Sarah, and a few other old friends started decorating. Soon the room was ready, the table was set, and the drinks were flowing.
All evening, Jane showered Mary with compliments. With every toast, she wished her endless happiness.
"You're the best friend I've ever had," Jane said, raising her glass. "You always had my back, and you were always brave enough to bet against me."
"Maybe we should slow down on the drinks," Sarah noted. "It hasn't even been two hours and Mary is already spinning."
"Oh, lighten up," Jane brushed her off, topping off Mary's glass. "My best friend only gets married once. Let her have fun. We're drinking to her health, aren't we?"
Then came time for the main event. There was a knock at the door.
"Finally! The guest of honor!" the tipsy group cheered in unison.
"I'll get it," Jane said, heading to the door.
A tall, muscular man in a "hot cop" uniform stood in the hallway.
"Hey, Eric. We clear on the plan?" Jane whispered, slipping a few crumpled bills into his pocket.
"Yeah, I remember."
"Good. Get in there."
"Girls, look who's here!" Jane announced.
After the performance, Jane led a stumbling Mary into a side bedroom.
"Mary, time for your private dance!"
Sarah watched suspiciously as Jane practically carried the heavily intoxicated Mary into the room. "I think she's had enough, Jane."
"Oh, don't be a buzzkill. Is your whole family this boring?"
"We're not boring. We just care about her."
"That's not fair! What about us?" the other bridesmaids whined.
"Don't worry, check the front door! There's a 'sexy firefighter' waiting for the rest of you!"
Sure enough, the doorbell rang again. A chorus of squeals erupted, and Jane used the distraction to shut the bedroom door. She poured another drink and handed it to Mary.
"Drink up. This dance is going to be hot."
Mary smiled weakly. Her head was swimming, the room was tilting, and all she wanted to do was sleep.
"Don't doze off yet. The best part is starting. Let's get this blouse unbuttoned—it's sweltering in here. Eric, help the lady out. Perfect. Now, put your head on his shoulder. Smile! Okay, now some 'interesting' poses. For the scrapbooks, you know?"
"I'm a model..." Mary mumbled in a daze, having no idea what was actually happening.
Taking advantage of Mary's state, Jane snapped dozens of compromising, erotic photos. By the end of the session, a half-naked Mary had finally passed out on the sofa next to the equally shirtless stripper.
"Bingo. The money shot. Thanks, Eric. Here's a little extra," Jane said, handing him more cash. "Get dressed. I'll call you an Uber."
Jane and Eric stepped out, leaving Mary unconscious on the sofa. Seconds later, Sarah walked in. She looked at the sleeping, exposed Mary, shook her head, and covered her with a warm blanket.
"So that's what this was about," Sarah whispered. "With a friend like that, who needs enemies?"
***
After seeing the performers out, Jane called Jean-Louis.
"I got everything I need. How about you?"
"Yep. Got the shots. That girl he was with was a total firecracker."
The wedding day arrived. Mary was nearly impossible to wake up, complaining of a splitting headache.
"Rise and shine, bride-to-be! You really went wild last night," Jane said, handing her a glass of water and an aspirin.
"Oh god... I only remember bits and pieces."
Jane smirked. "Don't worry. We'll get you cleaned up."
A while later, Mary was dressed. The bridesmaids helped with her hair and makeup, finally zipping her into her gown.
"Look at you. You're stunning," Jane said, sounding supportive.
"They're here! They're here!" one of the girls shouted as the groom's motorcade pulled up.
After the usual pre-wedding chaos, Mark entered the house.
"Okay, everyone! We've got fifteen minutes before we have to head to the chapel!" he called out, heading toward the bathroom to wash his hands.
Seeing him alone, Jane slipped in after him.
"Is something wrong?" Mark asked.
"Yes... but I don't even know how to tell you."
"What's going on, Jane?"
"Are you... are you sure about her? About Mary being faithful?"
"Of course I am. Why would you even ask that?"
"Look, she's my friend. That's why this is so hard."
"Jane, get to the point."
"I've known her forever. She has these... episodes. She can't help herself. She'll sleep with the first guy she meets if she's had a drink."
"What? What kind of crap are you talking about?"
"You don't believe me? Look at these." Jane pulled out her phone and showed Mark the suggestive photos of Mary and Eric from the night before. "This was your 'precious' Mary at the party last night."
Mark looked at the photos and, to Jane's horror, started laughing.
"I don't see what's funny!" Jane snapped. "This is the woman you're supposed to marry! Think about it. Why would you want this?"
Mark laughed even harder. Just then, the bathroom door creaked open further, and Jean-Louis's head popped in.
"Can I come in?"
"Yeah, come on in," Mark grinned.
Jane looked between them, her face pale.
"Now, you listen to me," Mark said, putting an arm around the photographer's shoulder. "As it turns out, Jean-Louis and I go way back. We were in the same journalism program in college. He moved away, but we stayed close.
He knew exactly who you were. When he heard about your pathetic, idiotic plan, he told me everything. So, you miserable snake, pack your bags and get back to Europe. And don't ever show your face around here again."
"But... what about Mary?"
"Mary? If you have a single shred of humanity left, you'll leave quietly. We'll figure out what to tell her. I don't ever want to see you again. Get out."
"I told you you'd lose the bet," Jean-Louis added, ushering Jane toward the door.
Standing outside, hidden in the shadow of a neighboring building, Jane watched the wedding procession pull away, catching a glimpse of a glowing, happy Mary.
For the first time in her life, Jane had lost a bet. She wasn't first. And she had lost her best friend forever.
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