In my defense, if you knew Rose Kelley as well as I did you’d have been surprised too. Not that I thought she'd never get hitched, or it was a shock someone would want to— every pro-marriage person in the world should be so lucky as to put a ring on my incredibly smart, hilarious, and drop-dead gorgeous best friend. 

But Rose had always been so independent, and impressively self-sufficient. She didn’t just own her own home, she’d personally remodeled it (I hadn’t seen the changes in real life, just a few progress photos, but knowing Rose it was most likely the best remodel in her town, if not the entire world). 

“Harper,” she said, with the tone of someone practiced in drawing me out of my thoughts. Because of course, she was.

“OK, but like— married married? Like with the 'I dos' and paperwork and shit?” 

She wouldn’t change her name, would she? Mum and I had looked into it after her divorce, but we’d both been immediately put off by how much work it took, all the forms and bureaucracy. But something being a bit of work would never deter Rose (for now) Kelley if she wanted it. 

“I mean that’s the general idea, yeah,” she said, very audibly trying not to laugh at me. “Throw in a pretty dress and a bad ass party. Those are the parts I figured you’d be excited about.”

“But, wh– how—?”

OK she was definitely laughing at me now.

“Pretty much the usual way, Harp. He asked, I accepted. You do remember that sometimes boyfriends can turn into husbands, right?”

Boyfriend. Allen Fairweather. Rose’s boyfriend of, if I had my math right, less than three months. Now fiancé. 

Well, technically it had been longer than three months. Rose and Allen dated off and on for almost two years after college, when we’d first moved to that tiny little speck of a town where nothing ever happened (except, of course, to me). 

And now to Rose. Who had not only resumed the relationship with Allen after years apart, but had decided it would be the one she tried to keep for the rest of her life. 

Seriously. What! The! Fuck!

“Rose,” I whined, leaning against the wall, “I’m not old enough to be a brother-in-law.”

Forget about worrying if I was too old for Ant-- I really didn’t think I looked old enough to even be having this conversation. Glancing at myself in the bathroom mirror I saw a face not wholly different from when we were nineteen, as new to our friendship as we were to navigating the world. Babies. Babies who were definitely not old enough to be getting married. 

Well, maybe I’d lost some of the puppy fat in the intervening years, making my cheeks more hollow and less boyish. Manish. My hair was the same though, brown and thick, though I’d only recently found a more flattering cut (short on the sides and combed back on top) than the way I’d let it flop everywhere as a kid. I was definitely as pale as ever, skin unblemished and suple, except–

I peered closer at the mirror. Was that a line across my forehead?

“I don’t think there’s an age restriction for the person getting an in-law, babe,” Rose replied, dragging me away from my reflection. Maybe the mirror just had a crack. “Thank god there’s not a maturity requirement, or we really would be in trouble.” 

“I–” Didn’t have a comeback for that one. Especially since as wildly as my brain was ping-ponging, I realized I hadn’t said the most important thing yet. The only question that really mattered.

“Rose… are you happy?”

“I am,” she said, and the genuine warmth shot right to my tangled heart. “I know it’s fast, but after everything that happened last year… it feels right. I’m happy, and this is the future I want. And I hope you can be happy for me too.”

“Ro, of course I am,” I replied, and I meant it. “Your happiness is the most important thing in the entire universe. After mine, obviously.”

She snorted so hard I could almost feel the air move across my face. “There he is, back to normal.”

“What a rude thing to call me after I’ve been so loving and supportive,” I sniffed. Rose chuckled her throaty laugh. 

“Have it your way– I guess I could call you my Man of Honor instead?”

“Me?” I definitely didn’t squeak. 

“I can’t exactly get married without you, can I? Unless you can think of someone better, I'm open to suggestions.”

Oh hell no. Not now that I was sort of starting to maybe wrap my head around the whole thing. My definitely wrinkle-free, fountain of youth-esque head. 

“Rose Kelley I have no room for your nonsense right now. Oh my god, I…. OK. Yeah. I’ll be the… man of honor at your wedding. Holy fuck this is crazy. I literally cannot believe today.”

“Yay! And, completely unrelated, I’m going to need to approve any speeches you give in advance.”

“Shut up, I’m great at public speaking,” I said, a statement we both knew was categorically false. “Wait, speeches, as in more than one?”

“We are so crossing that bridge at a later date,” Rose said, her tone brooking no argument. “So, your official, fancy wedding invitation— I’m sending it to Tucker’s place?”

Oh right. 

“Um, about that…”

“Oh, Harp. Did you two break up?”

“No!” I shouted, then immediately winced. The aforementioned not-my-boyfriend had finally gone quiet, and I didn’t need to give him a reason to reignite his ire. Especially if there was any hope for my hoodie. “We didn’t break up, because we were never dating. It was a rebound thing. That’s all!”

I was not wrong, and I would die on that hill. 

My phone buzzed against my ear, the telltale sign of a text. I took a break from Rose’s resigned silence to glance at-- oh! A reply from Antony. Great, because I was still going to need a place to sleep tonight. 

Ant 💦: im seeing someone. dnt txt me again

OK. I mean I’d asked to crash at his place not up his ass, but sure, fine, whatever. Ant’s couch kind of sucked anyway. 

Actually, this day was giving me all the signs it was time to truly move on. 

“You know what,” I returned my full focus to Rose, infusing my voice with effortless cheer. “Madena’s feeling tired and I’m beyond ready to move out of this town. I think I’m going to head... south.”

“Head south?” she repeated dryly, and I half expected her to make a bird joke. 

“Yeah, maybe a cute beach town? I can get a tan, ogle shirtless boys…” That could be a good idea, actually. Not that I was capable of getting a tan, but there were myriad other perks of a warm climate. “So, um, I’ll obviously text you when I have a new address, but for now how about you just email me the… wedding details?”

Rose didn’t respond for long enough I checked to see if the call dropped. 

When she finally spoke, I had an immediate bad feeling. It was the same tone she’d used the night she convinced me to do full body-dye in the opposing school’s colors for junior Homecoming. I’d been green for weeks (though, streaking the field had actually done wonders for my social life). 

“What if I have a better idea?” 

For the first time all morning, I knew I was well and truly fucked.