Everly

It didn’t feel real when I drunk-applied to the Mail Order Bride website along with Delta and Amelia. And it sure as hell didn’t feel real when the agency called us the next day and we met with the director, Monique, over FaceTime.

It probably should have felt real when I signed my name on the dotted line. But it didn’t. The whole thing felt so insane. So dangerous. So completely not me.

It felt pretend, as stupid as that sounds. Because the required blood test and background check sure as hell were real. The intensive interview held by Monique was real. The truckload of stuff Delta, Amelia, and I dropped off at the Goodwill while cleaning out our apartment was real. The suitcases I packed with all my worldly possessions were real.

Still, the idea that I had a man actually waiting to marry me? Not even close to feeling like reality.

But somehow, stepping off the airplane in Anchorage, Alaska, with Delta and Amelia beside me, all of a sudden it became hella real.

It became OMG WTF get me the eff away from baggage claim real.

Because baggage claim is where my soon-to-be-husband is waiting for me.

“I have to go, I have a connecting flight,” Amelia says. “So I think this is good-bye.”

Her fiancé is in a different part of Alaska than mine or Delta’s. Apparently the state is pretty huge. Maybe we should have looked at a map more closely.

“Why are we doing this again?” I ask them frantically as they pull me into a tight hug.

“Because carpe diem and all that,” Delta says, laughing as she pulls away. She readjusts her tote bag higher on her shoulder, ready for the next leg of her journey. “This is the adventure we were looking for!”

“Worse case scenario,” Amelia says, “is we meet the men, hate them, and tell Monique we want out. No one is forcing us to get married. We are independent women.”

I snort. “So independent that we’re twenty-first century mail order brides.”

Delta smiles, squeezing my shoulders. “I have a connecting flight and I don’t want to miss it.”

“So we’re really doing this?” I ask them. If anyone is looking for an out, this would be it—the last time all of us will be together for a bit. We’ve all been matched with Alaskan men, but we aren’t going to be living in the same towns.

“We are doing this. Meaning, tonight you are going to have….” Delta cups her hands around her mouth. “S-E-X.”

“As are you,” I toss back, not letting the word penetrate. Because the whole sex thing is one of the reasons I considered backing out so often over the last week since we signed our contracts.

“Oh, hell yeah, I am,” Delta says. “All the sex.”

“So much sex,” Amelia adds, laughing. “I haven’t been with anyone but Derrick since I turned eighteen.”

“And now,” I say, shaking my head, “you’ll only have one partner for the rest of your life.”

This fact does make me feel slightly better about all of this. Being shy makes meeting guys impossible; being someone’s mail order bride takes away all that insecurity. The fact that we’ll be committed by marriage makes me feel safe. If I’m bad in bed, it won’t be easy for him to leave me.

Hopefully I won’t be as bad as I’ve been imagining.

And I hope other parts of this insane adventure will make up for the intimidating parts. Like, maybe I’ll finally have inspiration for the novel I’ve always wanted to write. In school I always felt like I didn’t have enough life experience to write a book … but maybe now I can start.

Maybe I can write all day and have sex all night.

Okay. So that fantasy might be a little far-fetched, considering the whole sex thing scares the bejesus out of me … but maybe if it’s the right man all my insecurities will vanish and I can be confident like my friends.

Adjusting my eyeglasses, I look at Delta and Amelia in their heels and perfectly done hair. I didn’t even blow-dry my bob this morning. Exhaling, I remember to ground myself in reality.

I can’t get carried away. First, I need to meet the guy.

“We’re getting married. This is bananas,” Amelia squeals. “Derrick can suck it.”

“I really hope you aren’t just having some overboard rebound reaction,” I say, worried for her.

She’s all-in with this marriage thing, and I wonder if that’s the healthiest choice for her—for all of us, actually. Marrying out of desperation is probably not the best motivator.

However, Monique’s clients are millionaires, or more. She only has clients with fortunes, with legit means to care for their wives.

It could be worse. I could have had to get a roommate on Craigslist and a job at Taco Bell. Maybe this is the way of the future. Maybe my friends and I are actually just the most brilliant young women on the planet, who realize having a loaded husband isn’t the worst thing ever.

“Okay, I really got to go,” Amelia says.

“Me, too.” Delta starts to walk away, blowing us kisses dramatically. She turns back, smiling, and calls to me loudly as she walks down the terminal: “And I’m really glad we waxed yesterday, Everly. He’s going to love that you went totally bare down there.”

My cheeks burn in embarrassment, and I awkwardly adjust my glasses. That is so typical Delta. Of course she’s confident and self-assured—she’s blonde, with long legs and a huge smile. She has nothing to be nervous about when she meets her husband.

Me, on the other hand? I’m terrified he’ll take one look at my boring clothes and tortoiseshell frames and want to trade me in.

“You going to be okay, sweetie?” Amelia asks. I nod, wanting so badly not to be the girl who needs the pep talk. I’m usually the one offering that to Amelia, not this role reversal. “Just be yourself,” she says. “It’s what I love about you, your ability to be real. And this guy is going to want to meet the real Everly.”

“I’ll try.” I smile tightly. “I wish I wasn’t doing this alone.”

“Honey, call me the first chance you get. We all have our phones. And let me know that you’re okay. Don’t worry, Monique vetted these men. She matched us with them perfectly. And we wanted this. We chose to come. If you really don’t, no one is forcing you to stay.”

Delta and Amelia have really gone all-in with the concept since the drunken get-go, maybe because marriage doesn’t seem as binding for them as it does me. They’re looking at this entire situation as almost a joke—a free place to live and a way out of dodge. But they’ve never really been around people who were happily married. Delta was raised by her widowed grandpa, and Amelia by her single grandma.

But my parents were devoted to one another up until they died in a car crash when I was fourteen. And then my grandparents took care of me until they passed away, the same night, in their sleep.

I know what real love looks like … and maybe I’ve just always been terrified of losing it. Maybe that’s why I’ve always hid behind my shyness. Because what if I lost something I found?

The thing is, I have nowhere else to go. I don’t even have money to get myself a plane ticket back to Oregon. If I really want to leave, I’ll have to call Monique and tell her I changed my mind before I even tried.

And the truth is, what do I have to lose?

I mean, besides my virginity.

“I got this, Amelia.” I kiss her cheek and wave good-bye, before adjusting the green infinity scarf wrapped around my neck.

“Love you. We’ll talk soon.”

As I walk away, I feel a pinprick of tears in the corners of my eyes. Which is beyond annoying. I need to be confident when I meet my stranger. I need him to know I’m not some innocent scaredy-cat.

Even if that is exactly who I am.