Riley comes from a rich family who weren’t too happy when she told them she wanted to be an artist instead of something like a lawyer or a doctor. But the thing about Riley is she rarely cares what others think.

“Hey, Charlotte!” Riley says, giving me a one handed hug.

“Hey, Riley.” I grin.

“So I need your help with the wedding. My parents are pushing for classic white, boring, dresses. Now I’m not boring, you know that.” Riley says, and I giggle. Riley is a lot of things, but boring is definitely not one of them. She has chin length curly red hair with a few bleached streaks framing her face, a small silver nose piercing, and a vast collection of bright, rainbow colored sundresses. Riley is colorful, crazy, and in no way boring.

“I take it you don’t want white dresses.” I laugh.

“You know me, kid. I don’t do boring.” Riley grins.

“So what were you thinking?” I ask, sitting down in the middle of the floor. Riley takes a seat next to me and sets down a stack of bridal magazines in front of us.

“I really like this one.” She says, pointing to a dress. It’s navy blue, long and flowing, with a lacy blue train.

“Pretty.” I say.

“But not a fleck of white in sight.” Riley says. “Needless to say my mother disagrees, but I think we can get her to agree. See all you have to do is help me with a little act.”

“Are you going to suggest that I pretend to be really crazy into this wedding and insist on certain things, and use my dad getting remarried for leverage?” I ask, an almost evil grin playing on my lips.

“Great minds think alike, my dear!” Riley laughs. “You in?”

“Totally!” I laugh. “So what’s that art piece you were talking about?” I ask, standing up.

“Oh yes.” Riley grins. “Close your eyes.” She says.

“Why?” I ask curiously.

“Just do it.” Riley says.

I close my eyes and resist the urge to peek.

“Now it’s not my strong suit but I had an idea in my head and I decided to go with it. And it turned out pretty good if I do say so myself.” Riley says. I hear a cupboard open and close, and I hear the soft clinking of metal.

“Open.” Riley says.

I open my eyes and blink. Riley is holding out a necklace made of twisted silver wire, multicolored stones wound into the wire.

“Oh no, do you not like it?” Riley asks when I say nothing after a few moments.

“No!” I say, quickly. “I love it, it’s beautiful!” I grin.

Riley lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank god, I thought you hated it for a second.” She laughs.

“I love it.” I smile. But there’s a feeling tugging in the back of my mind, one I can’t quite place, but one I don’t like.