Callum & Harper (Sleepless 1)

“Okay, and we’re just doing this for a year? Just enough to save a few bucks and get our own place?”

“Right, then we get an annulment or divorce, whichever. I just don’t see any other way to live while we go to school since we lost our money and I can’t sell my bike now.”

“You were thinking of selling your bike?” I asked, knowing I never would have ever let him do that.

“Yeah, we didn’t have anything else to sell.”

“Yes, we did,” I said. “My book.”

“Absolutely not, Harper. No way! I would never let you do that!”

“It’s better to sell the book. It’s all we have now, no thanks to me.”

“Will you stop blaming yourself? And, no! I’m putting my foot down. No! That book stays in your possession come heck or high water. No, this is our only option.”

I sighed loudly. “I think you’re right,” I said. “We’re pretty desperate.” I laugh without humor.

Minutes pass in companionable silence.

“Harper?” Callum asked quietly.

“Hmm?” I said, studying Callum’s Converse, my head on his chest, his arm around my shoulder.

“Does this mean you’ll marry me?” He asked, peeking down at my face.

I felt an embarrassing crimson heat flush spread across my cheeks.

“I think it does,” I whispered.

We were both silent for a very long time, our chests heavy with labored breathing. This was it. We were actually going to do it. I couldn’t believe myself. This felt like the best and worst decision I’d ever made.

“What do we have to lose?” He asked.

Everything.

“Okay, so we’re not acting anymore,” he said, thinking. “Well go to a pawn shop, buy a few rings, apply for a license, tell our friends.”

I gulped audibly. “When?”

“Today, right now. Why? You got somethin’ better to do?”

“No,” I nervously chuckled. “Won’t we lose our place in line?” I stupidly asked.

Callum eyed me. “Do you want to do this, Harper?”

“Yes,” I said with conviction and stood. “Let’s go. I think I saw a pawn shop three blocks down.”

“I know the one,” he said. “We’ll try to be back before the doors close and just hope for the best.”

“It is The Hope House,” I lamely joked, making Callum contort a funny face at its dorkiness.

I laughed.

The pawn shop was old. You could tell the same owner was in possession since the fifties and he still ran the counter.

“How can I help you?” A kindly looking older man asked.

Callum grabbed my hand and smiled down at me. “We’d like a few rings please.”