“You sure you’re okay with it?” Cara asked, and I turned the phone toward her.
“You both know my thoughts on marriage. I don’t really care about it, and you’re going to get it annulled after you get the money, right?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Then what’s the problem? It’s like cosigning a loan. In fact, it’s even less serious than that because you’re on the hook for a loan even if you’re not in contact with the other person anymore. Go for it, girls. But tell me more about why you need money.”
I figured she was going to ask about that, so I took her off speaker and handed the phone back to Cara. She told Mom about her financial aid situation and then handed the phone to me to explain about losing my job. The pizza came as I was trying to get her off the phone.
“I wish your father was home so you could talk to him, so expect a call probably tomorrow.” I cringed, but I’d expected that.
“Sounds good,” I said. Sometimes I envied people who only talked to their parents once a month or less. At times it felt like mine were too involved for me being twenty-three.
After ten more minutes of trying to get her off the phone, I finally succeeded. Cara had set up her small card table with her best plates and filled two wine glasses with a mixture of seltzer water and juice.
“Wow, isn’t this fancy,” I said, putting my phone on silent. I didn’t have any faith that my mom wouldn’t call again tonight. She’d done it before.
“Why not?” she said.
“I don’t know,” I replied, sitting down and picking up my glass. She lifted hers and we clinked them.
“To our impending marriage,” I said. The word left a strange taste on my tongue. It was so adult. So mature.
“To our impending fake marriage,” Cara corrected.
“Right.” I knew it wasn’t the real deal. It wasn’t like we were going to fall in love with each other or anything. I had literally never thought of Cara that way, and she was completely and totally heterosexual. Sure, she hadn’t had a boyfriend in a while, but that didn’t mean anything. Cara was the kind of girl who wouldn’t accept less than she deserved when it came to relationships, and a lot of the guys she’d tried to date hadn’t been able to handle that. Their loss.
I inhaled as much pizza as I could and then we smushed together on the loveseat and watched old TV shows until we were ready to pass out.
“So you can crash here, or we can share the bed,” she said, and my stomach did something funny. Probably too much melted cheese.
“Yeah, I don’t think I’d be comfortable out here.” She was basically in my lap and I’d been absently running my fingers through her hair.
“That’s fine. There’s enough room for two,” she said, getting up.
“Lucky for me,” I said, stifling a yawn. This had been a wild week and I was pretty fucking exhausted. At least I’d solved a bunch of my problems. I didn’t have to stress about finding a job, any job, right now. I could pick and choose and maybe find something that would pay better and would be a better fit for my resume. And Cara would be able to tell the financial aid office to fuck off, she’d gotten the money another way.
“You ready for bed?” she asked, and I levered myself off the couch.
“If I don’t go now, I’m going to be too tired to go to bed later.” She nodded and yawned wide.
“I know exactly what you mean.”
It was comical trying to cram both of us in her microscopic bathroom to brush our teeth at the same time. We kept bumping each other with our hips and laughing. I almost choked on my toothpaste.
One thing that Cara hadn’t compromised on was her bed. It took up nearly her entire bedroom and was made with silky gray sheets and a light-yellow comforter with black flowers on it. There were even enough pillows for two people.
“This is the nicest bed I’ve ever slept in, except maybe for a hotel once or twice.”
Cara pulled down the comforter so we could get in and I slid between the sheets and blankets and sighed in relief.
“Why thank you. I spent way too much on this bed, but I figure a bed is a good investment. Sleep is really important.” It was, and right now, I needed it desperately.