Page 21 of Mr. Brightside

Cory

“Howlonghaveyoubeen up there?”

I don’t bother sitting up to answer. If Lia’s already starting her morning chores, it’s after five a.m. I’ve been up here since I left his place—scratch that—ourplace, around one.

“I just needed to think,” I call down to her. An indignant moo sounds in the distance. The cows are probably pissed that Lia’s up and hasn’t made her way to them yet.

“I have to get a few chores out of the way, but I’ll join you when I’m done.”

I groan slightly at the idea of having to evade the reason I’ve pulled an all-nighter. How can I possibly explain this to Lia when I barely understand it myself?

He implied we were going to have sex.

Instead, he proposed marriage.

And somehow, despite knowing Jake Whitely doesn’t “do” relationships and learning last night that he’s literally never even been someone’s boyfriend, I agreed to marry him.

I’m going to have a husband.

I’m going tobea husband.

I agreed to marry him. I can’t seem to make myself feel bad about the situation. If I’m honest, doing this to make him happy makesmehappy. Sure, other things factor into the equation. But he needs me. He needs me in a way no one ever has before. It was the way he looked so desperate, so hopeful. Like I was his salvation. My stupid tender heart got together with my wanton dick and thrust me into this scenario, but I don’t regret it.

I’ve been lying on the roof of this pole barn for hours, trying to make myself feel ashamed of what I just agreed to do.

But I don’t.

If anything, I’m excited. Nervous, yes. But also… intrigued and captivated and inexplicably eager about what the whole thing means for the next two years of my life.

I don’t make reckless decisions. I’ve always played it safe. No one would expect something like this from me, which makes it that much more enthralling.

And then there’s the money. It’s a life-changing amount of money. I thought I’d be riddled with student loan debt for the next ten years. I assumed I’d have to live with my abuela until I was at least thirty just to make ends meet. It’s crazy to think that something as simple as getting married will provide a solution to so many obstacles in my life.

Before I left the condo, we agreed to announce our marriage via text to everyone except my abuela and Mike. I balked at the suggestion at first. But Jake made a number of valid points, the biggest one being that everyone in our circle can find out at the same time if we send off a group text. This way, we won’t have to decide who to tell first.

It sounded like a good plan last night. Except now I’m faced with the prospect of explaining my emotional breakdown all-nighter to one of my best friends while circumventing the truth about why I’m freaking out.

I still don’t know what, exactly, I’m going to say when Lia joins me on the roof half an hour later. She grunts as she heaves herself next to me, then sits there panting for a few seconds to catch her breath.

I swear she works harder than anyone I’ve ever met. I admire her grit. The way she just handles shit, moves forward, and never complains.

“I’m too tired to stage an inquisition,” she huffs as she lowers down to lie beside me. “Spill.”

I turn my head to meet her gaze through the early light of dawn. The sun won’t be up for another hour, yet a glow is already cast over the entire farm.

I’ve been sneaking up onto the pole barn forever; Lia and Tori have been doing it even longer. It’s where we come to escape. To think. To unwind. To figure shit out.

And now, apparently, it’s where I come to share half-truths.

“Something happened last night,” I start.

“With Jake,” Lia interjects.

Mierda.

Am I really that transparent?

She rolls her eyes and elbows me in the side. “Come on, Cor. I saw how he was looking at you at the bar yesterday. Then I watched you stumble through a shift like you didn’t know left from right or up from down. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what he wanted.”