I groan. “Absolutely not.”
“Well then, what’s your idea?” Ace shrugs. “I can’t do the blood thing because I got in trouble the last time we did that.”
“We’ll make an official agreement. A decree.”
“A de-what?”
“A decree, Ace,” I mutter. “The royals do it.”
“Oh. Yeah. Okay, whatever. Where’s the degree?”
“Decree,” I emphasize. “Do you have a notebook or a diary or something?”
“A diary?” he questions. “That’s fluffing girl stuff.”
“Whatever.” I sigh. “I have my diary in my backpack.”
“You have a diary?” His brown eyes are huge as he looks at me. “Does it have a bunch of crap in it about girl stuff and sleepovers and, like, tampoons or something?”
“Tam-poons?” I question in confusion. “What in the heck is that?”
“I don’t know. My dad always says they’re a woman thing when we get them for my mom. I think you have to shove them in your butt when you’re a woman.”
“Shove them in my butt?” My mouth is wide open. “Ew. Gross. I’m not doing that.”
“Good idea, Lia,” he says, nodding with very serious eyes. “I wouldn’t want to shove anything in my butt either.”
I’m definitely going to have to ask my mom when I get home if she shoves tampoons in her butt too. But right now, I need to focus on the important stuff. Like marrying Ace when I’m twenty-five.
I pull the pink bound notebook out of my backpack, flip to the last page, and scribble down the rules.
Ace and Julia get married at 25 years old. No matter what.
It’s a little sloppy, but my handwriting is getting better at least. I write my name at the bottom,J U L I A, and hand the notebook to Ace to do the same. “Sign your name at the bottom. That’s your decree.”
He has to concentrate to hold the pencil right, and I roll my eyes at how stupid he thinks school and writing are. His Hulk rests on the floor at his knee, and his tongue sticks out of his mouth as he spells aloud. “A-C-E, right?”
“Yes,” I confirm.
“Julia!” my mom calls, just as Ace puts the pencil to the paper. “Come on, honey, let’s go! Daddy’s double-parked downstairs!”
“Coming!” I yell back, jumping to my feet and hovering over Ace.
It takes him a while to put his letters together still, and I know I need to get moving. “You write your name and then keep the notebook somewhere safe, okay? Then we’ll have our official decree.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Ace Tobias Kelly!” Ace’s mom is now yelling for him too.
“I’ll write my name, Lia. Promise.”
“Okay, good.” I lean down and push a kiss into his cheek quick, grab my backpack, and take off down the hall.
Ace Kelly is my best friend, and when we turn twenty-five, he’ll be my husband.
As weird as it’ll be to be old, I can’t wait.
Over eleven years later…
