Chapter Text
“I still think you should’ve worn black,” Gwen said as she adjusted the flower crown in Jo’s hair. “Nothing makes a statement like black at a wedding.”
Jo resisted the urge to playfully shove her maid of honor. “I’m not trying to make a statement. I’m trying to marry the love of my life and hurry off to Moscow for the honeymoon.” They had intentionally planned the wedding to coincide with the Summer Olympics, a stroke of genius on her part.
“I guess it’s for the best.” Gwen stepped back to admire her handiwork. “I’m definitely wearing black when I get married, and I’d look like a poser if you did it first.”
“That’s the spirit.” Jo poked at the flower crown. “This doesn’t look silly, right?” If she looked like a ditz at her own wedding, she might as well just not get married at all.
“Totally not,” Gwen assured her. “As if I’d let you get married looking like a bland social media influencer.”
Jo recalled the many, many times during All Stars when they’d laughed together at Heather’s obnoxious beauty routines. “Nah, you’re too cool for that.”
She leaned against the wall of the dressing room like she didn’t have a care in the world. In fact, Jo had many cares in the world. Weddings did that to you.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” Gwen said.
“I’m not worried.” Jo snapped automatically. “Who’s worried? Not me.”
“No, obviously not you,” Gwen replied. She fished around in her purse and retrieved a black lipstick. “I’m talking about Mike. He’s probably freaked out of his mind right now.”
Jo fidgeted with the lace trim on the cuffs of her dress sleeves. “Yeah, he definitely is.” Mike’s freak-outs were the cutest things in the entire world.
After she finished reapplying her lipstick, Gwen smiled at Jo. “I’m gonna line up with the rest of the girls. You cool?”
“Of course.” Jo nodded. “Break a leg, Gothball.”
“On it.” Gwen saluted before strutting out of the room.
Jo paused a minute and stared at her reflection in the mirror. It was a good thing she’d overcome her phobia of frilly outfits; otherwise, she wouldn’t be wearing this gorgeous dress. And the best part was that beneath the skirt’s fluffy ruffles of tulle she wore tennis shoes.
Alright, this is it. This was gonna be the best moment of her life, even better than when she’d crossed the finish line after running a double marathon in record time. Jo cast a confident smirk at herself before walking out the door.
About a hundred yards down the beach sat the guests. Most of them were Mike’s friends, not hers—Mike was just a personable guy. With two glaring exceptions, everyone from Revenge of the Island had made it to the wedding. The remaining audience members had either competed on Pahkitew Island or the original season.
Yup, their guest list consisted exclusively of ex-Total Drama contestants. Just like she’d always wanted.
A familiar figure—shorter and older than her—stood at the entrance of the aisle. He wore a Maya-blue tuxedo. Figures, Jo thought with an amused snort. He couldn’t be bothered to buy a new one for the occasion.
“Hey, McLean.” Jo linked arms with Chris.
“I don’t think I ever thanked you for doing this,” she said. Her own parents hadn’t been willing to make the flight out to Camp Wawanakwa, so Chris was acting as her surrogate dad.
The crows’ feet around Chris’s beady eyes crinkled as he smiled at her. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, kid.”
On the other side of the beach, Trent strummed the first chords of the Wedding March. Justin gently rattled his tambourine. Harold coughed into the mic, and Cody solemnly hummed. The Drama Brothers hadn’t been Jo’s first choice for a band—they were her last choice, actually—but sometimes, she’d realized, you had to make compromises for the people you love.
The ceremony began. The audience rose to their feet as the flower children walked down the aisle. Chef had volunteered two five-year-olds, Jude and Noah, from the daycare he oversaw. They wore flower crowns identical to Jo’s and skipped down the aisle, tossing flowers at everyone in the audience. It was kinda sickening, in Jo’s opinion.
Like their parents, Jo’s sister hadn’t been keen on attending the ceremony. And so the bridal party, just like the audience, consisted entirely of former Total Drama contestants. First went Gwen, the maid of honor, whose arms were linked with those of Cameron, the best man. Up next were Dawn and B, Lindsay and Lightning, and finally, Dakotazoid and Sam, who were holding hands.
“Can they chill with the PDA?” Jo grumbled. “Just for one day?”
The Drama Brothers’ music sped up; Chris patted Jo’s hand.
“Are you ready for your toughest challenge yet?” he asked with a cheeky grin.
They started down the aisle. At the end of the sand stood Mike, wearing a purple tuxedo he’d found at a pawn shop. His slicked-back hair resembled Vito’s, but Vito couldn’t be fronting because Mike had a shirt on. Hopefully. If Jo accidentally married Vito, she’d have to get an annulment immediately.
When they made it to the end, Chris respectfully hugged Jo and went to stand with the groomsmen. Jo took her place across from Mike. She smiled at him, and he returned the gesture with a cute gap-toothed grin of his own.
“We are gathered here together,” Chef said gruffly, “to celebrate a union I honestly thought would never work. Jo.” He gestured at Jo. “Why don’t you go first.”
Jo took a deep breath and stared into Mike’s large brown eyes. She hadn’t memorized her vows; improv was her specialty.
“From the moment your spiky head lost us the Truth or Laser Shark challenge all those years ago, I knew we had something special. But then you started dating that clueless redhead, and I assumed I didn’t have a chance. It wasn’t until All Stars, when my balloon popped and you caught me in your arms, that I knew something had changed.
“You’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me, Mike,” Jo continued. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“Great,” Chef said in his usual crass tone. “Now it’s Mike’s turn.”
Mike giggled skittishly. “You know I’ve never been the best with words, Jo. I was so afraid to ask you out because you’re intimidating”—Jo smirked and squeezed his hands reassuringly—“but you’re intimidating in the best way possible. You didn’t care that I lost All Stars to Ezekiel and you’ve always pushed me to be my best self, no matter how my alters started acting up. You helped me find a therapist that could help the system, and I couldn’t ask for a better support system.
“You’re the only person I want to spend the rest of my life with,” Mike promised.
Chef wiped a tear from his eyeball. “That was beautiful,” he sobbed.
Chris coughed. “Alright, campers, I heard from an anonymous source that somebody doesn’t support Jo and Mike getting married and living happily ever after. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”
In the third row, Anne Maria raised her hand. Jo glared at her, concentrating specifically on her hair. Maybe if she stared hard enough, Anne Maria’s poof would catch on fire.
Anne Maria lowered her hand.
“Not. Cool. Dudes.” Chris shook his head solemnly.
Chef was still sniffling. “Alright, now that we got all that out of the way, I now pronounce you husband an’ wife. You may ki—”
“Sha-bam!” Lightning screamed.
What was his deal? Jo shot him a dirty look. I knew I should’ve told Mike to drop Idiot-ning from the wedding party.
“You may kiss the bride!” Chef finished.
Jo flung her arms over Mike’s neck and kissed him. Chef dissolved into tears again. Then everyone clapped. It was awesome.