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Marriage of Unconvenience by Chelsea M. Cameron (5)

Five

I didn’t propose the next day. Or the next. I kept the ring with me at all times, even when I was in the shower. It was too small for my ring finger, so sometimes I put it on my pinky. I had no idea what Cara was doing with my ring, but neither of us had mentioned them, and the longer we went like that, the bigger the rings seemed to grow, until I finally just decided to do it.

“Why are you making such a big deal out of this? It’s not like it’s real. Or is it for you?” Ansel asked, when I’d complained to him about it. I figured I needed someone not involved with the situation to talk to about it. I’d considered some of my other friends, but Cara and I were closest to Ansel, so it made sense to burden him with both of our issues.

“No, it’s not real, are you high? It’s literally just for the money and just on paper. Cara has been my best friend forever. Friend. I don’t think of her that way. Plus, she doesn’t like girls. Remember?” Ansel smirked, as if he didn’t believe me.

“What are you saying? That I’m secretly in love with her and I created this need for money so I can marry her and seduce her into falling in love with me? You’re giving me way too much credit, dude.” I wasn’t some criminal mastermind from some movie. I was just a broke girl who had a broke friend who needed to marry her so they could be un-broke. Simple.

“I’m not not saying that,” he said, and I briefly considered dumping my soda on his head.

“You’re an asshole sometimes.”

“Yes, you’re finally getting it! Congratulations.” Now I definitely wanted to dump soda on his head. I picked up my cup and he put his hands up.

“No, don’t mess up my hair. It’s doing this perfect swoosh thing today.” I slowly set my soda down and narrowed my eyes. His hair was looking good today. It was a color in between brown and blonde, and he probably took longer to style it than I did with my entire morning routine. He worked hard, and it showed. I couldn’t mess with Ansel’s hair. That was a crime I couldn’t commit.

“Fine. Your hair escapes a soda bath. Just for today. But I’m not ruling it out in the future.”

“You mess with my hair and we are no longer friends, Lo.” I waved him off.

“Fine, fine. Your hair is safe. Promise.” He dramatically held out his pinky finger and I linked it with mine.

“So back to this thing you have going with Cara,” he said, and I groaned.

“Leave it alone, Ansel. Just leave it alone.”

He didn’t, and pestered me for the next hour until I threatened to leave.

I couldn’t make him believe that I wasn’t doing this whole thing because I was somehow in love with Cara. How ridiculous was that? And even if I was, she was never gonna feel that way about me, so it didn’t matter. Still, I couldn’t figure out why Ansel’s comments wouldn’t stop bugging me. I was grumpy and irritated for the rest of the day. It was Saturday and Cara had stuff going on until the evening, and I was even grumpier and missing her. It was silly since I had seen her yesterday, and I was going to see her tonight. I looked down at my pinky every now and then at the ring. I should do this. I should do this and get it over with. I had built it up and that was making me more anxious and stressed.

I didn’t want to make a massive deal out of it, but I also didn’t want to hand it to her while we were sitting in her living room. What was the happy medium between a massive romantic proposal and shoving the ring at her? There had to be something.

The internet was my friend, so I took to Google to see what a nice, casual proposal would look like. After scrolling, I realized that all those proposals were for other people. I needed something that was for us.

After a long shower to think, that ended up being ice cold at the end, I finally had it.

I was gonna kill it at this proposal. Go big, or go home, right? No matter if it was real or fake.

“Okay, what are you doing, you weirdo?” Cara said when I showed up twenty minutes early for our outing at her house.

“Oh, nothing,” I said, affecting an airy tone. I’d dressed up just a little bit, but not enough to make her suspicious. I hoped.

“I just never know with you, Loren,” she said, smirking and leaning against the door. There was a little flutter in my chest about her using my full name.

“Damn right. Come on, put on something nice.” I shifted the large tote bag I had on my shoulder. It wasn’t a basket, but I wasn’t hauling a damn basket all over Boston.

She raised her eyebrows, but went back to her bedroom and I set my bag down for a minute.

“How was Ansel?” she asked, as I waited in the kitchen for her. Her bedroom door was cracked just a little bit and I could see her naked back as she slid a dress over her head. I looked away.

“What?” I asked. I’d forgotten what she’d said.

“How was Ansel?” she repeated. I was using all my energy to not look at her as she slid on some wedges and walked out. It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen her naked before. What was my deal?

“Oh, he was his usual charming self.” I wasn’t going to tell her about him pestering me. I definitely didn’t want to plant that seed in her head and take the chance that it would grow and she’d think I was doing this for anything other than the money.

“I haven’t seen him in ages and I miss him. Maybe I’ll see if he wants to get a drink next week.” Her dress was floaty and made of a black fabric covered in bright tropical flowers. She looked like a goddess when she moved. I felt like an ogre in comparison, but that was how things went with Cara. I remember when we hit puberty that she just kept getting prettier and I just kept getting more awkward, and that hadn’t changed with age. I could clean up as best I knew how, but she would always top me in the beauty department. There was no doubt about that.

“You should,” I said, a belated reply.

“I think I’ll text him right now,” she said, getting on her phone. My nerves started to get the better of me. Was this a terrible idea? Was she going to think it was awful? Was she going to say no and change her mind? Was she going to think I was making too much of this?

I didn’t know, and I wouldn’t know until I did it. I’d started the ball rolling and I had to let it go and see what happened.

Fingers crossed.