I stare at it. It reads like a casting call. Like I’m building a character, not involving a real person.
Good. That’s what this has to be.
This isn’t about feelings.
I continue to type:Fake Marriage Contract – Draft
It looks ridiculous. Stark. Utterly insane.
And yet… completely right.
I start listing terms, fast, like if I think too hard about it I might lose my nerve:
–1 year minimum commitment–Must live together–Monthly stipend (generous)–Bonus upon successful completion
I stare at the last line, thumb still hovering.
Bonus.
It makes it sound transactional. Which, sure, it is.
But also… not really.
I think of Olive again. The way she glares when she’s flustered. That pink flush crawling up her neck when I get too close. The way she kissed me like she forgot how to lie.
I smirk.
Yeah.
This is going to be fun.
5
OLIVE
Looking for a Beard
The morning air is cool and bright.
I walk the familiar path toward the kindergarten with my coffee in one hand and a stack of laminated name tags tucked under my arm. Beside me, Nina adjusts her sunglasses and nudges me with her elbow.
“You’ve been suspiciously quiet this whole time,” she says. “Which means either you murdered someone or you kissed someone. Spill.”
I choke on my coffee. “Wow. Zero warm-up?”
Nina grins. “Come on. I know you. Something happened—I can feel it in my teacher bones.”
I hesitate, eyes fixed on the sidewalk. “Well, I didn’t murder anyone,” I mutter.
Nina stops so abruptly a jogger nearly barrels into her. “So youdidkiss someone?!”
“Can wenotdo this in front of the juice bar?” I hiss, dragging her away from the forming line.
“Who?” she demands, planting herself in front of me. “Tell me everything. Immediately.”
I take a steadying breath. “His name is Ash.”
She squints. “Ash…? I don’t know any Ash.”
