Page 22


Sylvia bent to pick up a paperclip she dropped and I peered hard into Harper’s eyes, my mouth dropped open. This was it. This was our out. Her eyes opened wide and she started to shake her head but I wouldn’t hear of it.

“But we are,” I blurted out.

Sylvia stood but stopped in her tracks, seemingly shocked.

“Excuse me?”

I cleared my throat to gain confidence. “I said, we are. Harper and I are marrying next Saturday.”

“What?” Her hand flew to her chest. “I’m so sorry! Where are my manners! Congratulations! I had no idea. Well! That changes things a bit,” she laughed, sitting back down only to stand right back up. “I have to get a few app’s from my cabinet. Hold on.”

With her back to us, Harper pinched my shoulder. She threw her hands up in question. ‘What are you doing?’ She mouthed.

I pressed the air, telling her to hold on but she kept staring at me, shocked. I held my finger up. ‘Please,’ I silently begged just as Sylvia turned back around.

“Alright,” she said. “We’ll start the paperwork now. I’ll just need the marriage certificate as soon as it’s finalized. The sooner, the better. Time is of the essence what with classes starting soon. Let’s see.” She grabbed her bottom lip between her thumb and forefinger, thinking. “I think I have everything I need for the application already in your files. Yup, just the certificate will suffice.” She smiled at us. “Congratulations, you two.”

Harper and I filled out the new application then stood to leave, Sylvia wrapped us each in a hug again and we left her office as coolly as possible. Harper waved to punk chick once and we swiftly walked as fast as possible without arising suspicion toward the exit. Harper busted through the large wooden doors, out into the sun.

“What. Was. That.?” She asked.

“Harper, listen. I know it sounds crazy.”

“Crazy? I can’t marry you! I...I...Why did you tell her that?”

“Harper!” I yelled, edging us toward a few benches near some trees. We were drawing people’s attention. Quietly I continued, “Listen, our college is paid for. That’s awesome, right? But how are we supposed to attend? We have no money. No prospects. No real jobs. No parents to rely on. We are utterly alone, Harper. It’s just you and me. We’ve got the crap end of the stick our entire lives. Just...think about it.”

She shook her head back in forth at the grass below us, her arms folded across her chest. “This is just too crazy, Callum.”

“What other choice do we have? Huh? Tell me. How are we going to survive?”

“I don’t know,” she said honestly, “but this is not the answer.”

“I know we haven’t figured out all the particulars but this is the only way, Harper. You have to see that.” She opened her mouth to answer but I cut her off. “No, don’t answer. Just promise me you’ll think about it?”

She closed her eyes and seriously thought for a moment. I began to panic that she would say no.

“Fine,” she said. “I promise to think about it.”

“Thank you,” I said, breathing a sigh of relief.

Harper and I worked at the restaurant for lunch, earning three hundred dollars altogether. It was a start. We had the choice of working The Bowery or heading toward The Hope House. We were sick of mooching off our friends so we opted for The Hope House. We sat outside the welcoming doors, not surprisingly the first ones there and settled on the sidewalk, leaning against the stone facade.

“How is this going to work?” She asked.

“Well, we sit here and around five o-clock when the line starts to swell to impossible numbers, we pray that no one tries to knock us from our choice spot.”

“Very funny,” she said. “I mean the marriage thing.”

“I’m not asking for a real marriage, Harper,” I said. Her eyes fell to her lap. “I propose an agreement.”

“Alright.” She brought her eyes to mine. “What are the terms?”

“We stay married until the end of the school year, then annul.”

“You can’t annul a marriage after a year, can you?”

“Okay, we divorce then but it’s not a real divorce, Harper because we wouldn’t actually be married. I mean technically we’d be married but we wouldn’t practice,” I said, clearing my throat at how uncomfortable the conversation had turned, “practice all the things married couples, you know, practice.”

“Got it out there, buddy?” She teased.

“Shut up,” I laughed, a red blush creeping up my neck and attacking my face. “God, this is embarrassing. Listen, I just want you to know that I wouldn’t try to take advantage of you. There would be an understanding between the two of us. We’d live together as roommates, just like before.”

“And if we, I don’t know, wanted to start dating other people?” She asked, averting her eyes.

Would she want that?

“Um, I don’t think that’s a good idea, Harper. It’s only for a year. Besides, I think we’ll both be distracted with school,” I offered, hoping she didn’t see my obvious attempt at making her stay single when I was around. I couldn’t stand the thought of another person liking her the way I did.

“That’s not an unreasonable request,” she said, shyly smiling back at me.

Oh my God. I think Harper is actually considering marrying me. My heart swelled in my chest and I felt an unbelievable amount of happiness roll over my entire body. Realization donned on me. I felt hot all of a sudden, unsure if I was fake-marrying her for the wrong reasons. Who was I kidding? I wanted to fake-marry Harper for the wrong reasons. Nothing alarming about that, old chap.

“Okay, let’s just get through this night,” Harper said, interrupting the alarming thoughts I cheerfully pretended didn’t exist.

“Alright, here, save my seat,” I said, standing up.

“Where are you going?” She asked.

I pulled the detective’s card from my back pocket and flashed it her way. “Just going to check.”

She nodded but I could tell by her tensed body language she was frightened.

“It’ll be alright, I promise.”

I walked to the payphone just across the street, still within view of Harper and stuck my quarters in before dialing the number on the card.

“Detective Mason,” he answered.

“Hi, Detective Mason, it’s Callum Tate. We just wanted to check on the status of John Bell’s case. Have they decided on the charges?”

He breathed hard into the phone. Not a good sign. “Yeah, the D.A. decided vehicular manslaughter fit best. Sorry, Callum, I know you were looking for more serious charges considering the circumstances. Erica’s family’s pretty upset too.”

“What about his threatening Harper?”

“Well, since he didn’t actually do anything to her, there’s nothing much we can do there.”

“He threatened her life! And what about all the things Harper told you about when they lived together in the foster home?”

“Again, if she had filed charges then, we’d probably be able to get something on him now but we just can’t, Callum.”

“So, essentially he has to do something heinous to her in order for you to get involved?” I asked in disbelief.

He sighed loudly again. “No, but he technically didn’t do anything directly to Harper. I’m sorry but my hands are tied. This does not mean that you shouldn’t take his verbal threats seriously. Just be careful.

“Also, listen, he posted bail early this morning.”

All the breath seemed to suck from my chest at those words.

“Alright, thanks Detective. Uh, I’ll let Harper know.”

“Keep her safe, son,” he said.

“I promise,” was all I could think to say and hung up.

I returned the card to my back pocket and stuck both hands in the front pockets of my jeans, dreading the walk back to Harper. She read my face from across the street and stood, wrapping her arms around her torso, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Tears began to cascade down her beautiful skin.

“No,” she simply said. “No, no, no, no, no!” She then screamed, bending to sit on her ankles and hugging her knees.

I ran to her, scooping her up into my arms and gathering her to my chest.

“Shh,” I said, running the palm of my hand over her hair. “He can’t find us, Harper. He can’t do anything. He’ll never be able to find you because I have a plan. You’re going to fall off the face of this earth. He will not be able to find you.”

“H...how?”

“We’ll change your last name...to Tate.”

She withdrew herself slightly and stared into my eyes, gulping hard.

“I’m considering it,” she said, then buried her face in my chest once more.

We sat like we had before, but this time she pulled herself practically on top of me for comfort, not that I’d have complained. Her warm body overtook all my senses. All I could hear was Harper, all I could smell was Harper, all I could feel was Harper, all I could see was Harper, all I could taste...was Harper. I would do anything for her. I would die for her.

I’d only known her a few weeks.

But I was in love with Harper Bailey.

You’re in deep, Callum, I thought to myself because I had just asked the love of my life to marry me but did it for all the wrong reasons.

Harper

I had no idea what I was doing. I practically agreed to marry a stranger. Except he wasn’t a stranger, was he? He was Callum. Sweet, adorable, amazing Callum. Agreeing to marry him for appearance’s sake only felt wrong, though, knowing how I really felt about him. I was falling in love with Callum and marrying him for the wrong reasons made me feel ill to my stomach, knowing I’d only end up breaking my heart in the end.

I knew I would do it, though. As pathetic as that seemed, I know I would. If Callum Tate ever asks you to marry him, you do it whether he loves you or not because he would treat you better than anyone else. I knew how stupid I was being but I literally could not help myself. Never had I ever lead my life with my heart. Why I was doing it now, I didn’t know but I couldn’t help but wonder if it was because I really did love Callum. It was a self-destructive decision. I had no real sense of self-preservation. To hell with it. I’ll probably leave the imitation marriage with my heart scattered in pieces at my feet but at least I’ll get to know what it feels like to belong to someone, really belong to someone, with papers to prove it and everything.

Since we’re both using the other to survive is it really using? Yes. It was. I couldn’t lie to myself but somehow it didn’t feel like using. I knew Callum and I would figure it out together whether we went ahead with the sham marriage or not. That made me feel a little better about considering his fictitious proposal.

“We can’t tell anyone it’s fake,” I blurted out to him.

“I completely agree. We couldn’t let anyone know, not even Charlie or Cherry. It’s just not smart if we don’t take this all very seriously.”