That time Noah asked June to be his best man.
Noah and his social behavior throughout his youth and high school put him in a tough position. The wedding planning started, and Noah's responsibilities were far and few - few being the fact that he had to pick a best man, out of everyone. Noah Western hated disappointment and being disappointing, but this was a position that he wasn't going to win. Friendship was thick amongst those he considered close, and that was the problem. This was one of those times he wished he went through life with one best friend and one best friend only. This was one of those times Noah wished he was one of those people that hated everyone, and scared away anyone that tried to love him. That would make things easier. That would make this easier. Best man. The words haunted him, and he avoided the list like they were the black plague. Dawson, Ames, Bowie, Finch, Sawyer, Duncan -- could the list go further? It could, but if Noah let it, it would bury him alive. The obvious choice was between the three: Ames, Bowie, Dawson under their principles that he knew them longest, spent the most time with them, and Dawson would say with great pride that Noah let him touch Cameron -- so technically, he beat everybody. He got the boobs, so he should get to be the best man. Trust with that kind of package meant something, you know? But Noah saw what events would follow, a fire on some form of curtains while he ran around cheering and screaming "For He's A Jolly Good Fellow" with fire. Who ever would have let him have fire was beyond Noah, but that was out by the horror the vision scarred him enough for both that and a memory. So then there was Ames. He was trust worthy enough, unless you let him near a washing machine, which Noah may have had to do. Or at least a dry cleaners. Was getting the tuxes best man responsibility? Noah played out that scenario in his head, and he ended up with a tux two sizes too big on his wedding day and no tailor, Ames thinking it was fine. That wasn't fine. Noah may have been a man, but of the traditional sort the wedding was important. It was important, and it couldn't be ruined. So Ames was out. Which left Bowie. By default, he trumped Ames and Dawson without any competition. Family always won. And Noah knew that with Bowie in the mix, there was going to be enough alcohol to save them all from the grabbing hands that belonged to Elaina. But Ryleigh was going to have the biggest fit in the world if Bowie showed up with a beard, and what Noah knew about his friends was that you push from Ryleigh, they're gonna push right back. But was that enough for Noah to count his cousin out? Not technically, but Bowie looked cuddlesome, and Noah didn't know if he was going to be able to take on every responsibility that being a best man had -- every responsibility meaning Elaina Reyes. Even Guillermo still headed for the hills. And the sensitivity within the group that no one spoke of was heavy. If Noah picked one of them over the other, someone was going to have his feelings hurt. The list prior? Those were excuses. Noah could have rant and raved about excuses when the truth was, Noah didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings. Noah didn't want anyone to think that he loved so and so more, so he didn't, he couldn't, and he huffed and puffed for days before it hit him -- If Noah had a brother.... A gleaming smile shined bright as he pulled the pool stick down to the table, breaking. His eyes flicked up at the blonde, rolling her eyes and engulfed in the competition. "Weak," she stated bluntly, chugging a long sip of beer, wiping the remaining residue on her sleeve. June Western was as much a brother as an actual brother would have been. Wednesday night tradition, as it came -- beer and pool, because June needed competition. Noah grabbed his mug, taking a sip as he watched his sister sink her next shot victoriously. "Jaybird," he said, sitting down the glass. Noah toyed with it, spinning the handle full circle. "I gotta ask you something." Dead serious, Noah looked her straight in the eye. "You dyin' or something?" He shook his head and laughed. His hand pulled down against his jaw. Noah never could get his words out freely without a bit of a show. He stuttered over a few syllables and he shook his head. "Jaybird, will you be my best man?" June looked at Noah, deadpan before the punch came -- right in his arm. If Noah bobbed or weaved, he'd have ended up with a black eye. Oh, wait-- The punch caused the poolstick to bounce out of Noah's hand, bouncing back towards his eye. Noah stumbled backwards two steps, and June covered her mouth -- laughing, unconcerned. "Son of a --" A few curses later, he squinted at her, crouching slightly to make sure she wasn't going to swing again. "So, is that a yes or?" And June showed emotions like normal, like the Western's were raised, in the form of a hug. A hug Noah held on to for too long and ruined it. Noah paid for his beer the rest of that week, but at least June was happy.
