19
" You okay?” she asks.
“I think so. You?”
“Yeah.”
The courthouse looks like it’s burning under the morning sun. The flame-orange shimmer of hot brick forces me to look away. “Why are you still going through with this?”
She’s silent, and I contemplate punching myself in the face. If she backs out now I’m going to…I don’t even know what. Slash Chase Dunkirk’s tires. Set fire to the school. Kick a hole in every wall in my house on my way out.
“Don’t be an idiot,” she says, opens her door, and climbs out.
“Seriously. Why?”
“Because I can’t let bad things happen to you, Mo. Now quit being such a pantywaist and marry me.”
She opens my door, and I look down in time to see her rolling her eyes. I’m so relieved. She isn’t cowering. She won’t break.
“Pantywaist?” I ask. “What are you, seventy?”
“Stop stalling.”
“I feel like I might throw up,” I say as I get out.
“Would this be a good time to tell you I’m not a virgin?”
“Would this be a good time to tell you I’m in love with Maya?”
“Finally!” she says, and grabs my arm, pulling me toward the building. “Only took you four years to admit it. So prewedding confessions are out of the way. Let’s do this.”
“I really think I might be getting the stomach flu.”
She ignores me. “This is weird, but right at this second, I feel . . .” She pauses, squinting at me through the blinding sun. “I feel like this is right. You know?”
“No. Not at all. I’m about to piss my pants. I believe you remember the last time that happened, and they may or may not have black sweatpants in my size at the lost and found here "
― Jessica Martinez , The Vow
