Chapter One – The Engagement

As a little girl, I dreamed of the day that I walked down that long aisle towards the man I loved and said, "I do."

No, really. By age eight, I was grabbing my mom's bridal magazines to which she subscribed—as if she needed them—and circling the dresses I liked. It was actually a problem. I spent more time looking at wedding venues than doing my homework, so needless to say, my grades slipped down the drain. Ploop, ploop, ploop. Away they went.

My mom always said that my obsession stemmed from the fact that I didn't have a father figure in my life, and I obviously wanted to understand what it was like to have a family.

That was ridiculous. I was eight. I liked the dresses and the flowers and the shiny things.

But, as it happens, time passed. I left on my journey to "find myself", as the adults liked to call it, and became the Champion of the Indigo League and the strongest trainer in all of Johto and Kanto. Between traveling by myself around the country, battling strangers on the side of the road who gave me their money when I beat them—probably out of fear—and saving the region from a crackpot team of psychopathic thieves, I didn't exactly have time for relationships.

Now, here I was, twenty-two years old, and I was still single, single, single. The weird thing was, though, that despite my crazed delusions of grandeur—i.e. my innocent desire to be married by the age of ten—I didn't really care anymore. I wasn't rushing to find a husband. In fact, I'd be perfectly happy by myself.

So, how exactly did I end up with a marriage license with my name on it?

It was a day like any other. Literally. I woke up at seven o'clock, went to my gym in Mahogany Town—which I had taken over after Pryce's retirement—flew back home at four, and ate dinner with my mom. It was around eight in the evening when my best friend rang the doorbell and Mom called me down from my room.

"Ethan… What's up?" I greeted when I saw him, and he smiled a little awkwardly at me. It wasn't genuine. I had known him for years, so I could tell. Instead, his eyes were a little narrowed, his nose slightly scrunched, and his front teeth were more visible than usual. I wondered if he was aware of how ridiculous he looked.

My mom excused herself and headed back to the living room, leaving Ethan and I alone in the doorway. "Can we talk? Maybe take a walk?" Ethan requested in hushed tones.

There was something suspicious going on. So much for my day like any other.

I humored him nonetheless. The first couple minutes of our walk, in the time that it took us to get to the edge of town, were silent. I grabbed the hem of my jacket, shuffling my feet as we moved. This was intentional—his sulk, however, wasn't. I didn't think he noticed how awkward this was because otherwise he'd talk.

I'd known him since my childhood. We used to play house together and have fake battles with our little figurines. One time I even got his mom to dress him up in a suit for a play wedding, and when our parents weren't looking, I snuck a kiss. He pushed me down when I did that, but I didn't hold it against him.

We had been through a lot together, so to see him like this troubled me.

"Uh, Ethan…"

His hands shook as he curled them into fists, and he stopped walking. "Will you marry me, Lyra?" he practically shouted.

"What the fuck?" I laughed, pushing his shoulder and continuing forward down the forest path. When I glanced back, he hadn't started walking again. Instead, he had sunk to his knees, and his face was pressed against his palms. Any hint of amusement on my face faded away into horror, and I stepped back towards him.

I… didn't understand. It wasn't as if we had ever dated. That kiss as seven-year-olds had been the only one between us. I loved him, certainly, but only platonically. If he was serious… there was no way I could say yes.

"Ethan, I don't—"

"I'm broke!" he cried, dropping his hands from his face. I wasn't following. How did one thing lead to the other? "I'm broke—I can't afford my apartment, my roommate dropped out on me and blew off the contract, and I guess I could sue him but I don't have the money for that. And I can't afford any of my insurance or taxes or…"

He looked up at me finally, tears welling in his eyes, but all I could do was stare at him. I still didn't get how this had anything to do with me and marrying him. That would be like marrying my Typhlosion—disturbing and uncomfortable.

Perhaps this was more socially acceptable, but there were some sick freaks out there. Just putting it out there.

"You, uh, want me to give you a loan?"

"I won't ever be able to pay you back." He sighed and grabbed my hand, and I couldn't help but feel how badly he shook. "There are family discounts at my apartment complex, and I know for a fact that there's a tax break for married couples. As a single guy with a crappy job, I can't afford to live the way I am now—but I budgeted it out, and if I was married…"

It finally clicked. Marriage benefits… he wanted me to marry him just for the financial benefits? That… that was crazy—genius, I had to admit, but still crazy. There was just… no way that I could do this for him.

"You want me to give you a loan?" I repeated.

"Lyra, I'm begging you. If you just stick with me until I get a better job or something—or until I meet someone else even," he pleaded. I was still leaning towards a loan. Heck, I had money that I could afford to give away, and I would to him! But I knew that deep down it was a pride thing for him. Stupid.

Gah. What was I supposed to do? He was my best friend, and he was literally on his knees begging me to do this for him. If things were going to be exactly the same—just with a little piece of paper saying I was married—then… I could. But if things were all going to change, then what could I possibly do?

"You're not in love with me, are you?" I asked, and his eyebrows rose. "Or going to fall in love with me? To be honest, I don't want to be a part of a trope."

He shook his head a little violently so that his heavily-gelled hair shifted. "Lyra, no. I'm gay."

Well, damn, that went to show how well I knew my best friend. Twenty-two freaking years, and I didn't even know my best friend swung for the same team as I did. Maybe he was the reason I never had a boyfriend. That would explain a lot.

"You didn't tell me?" This was so much to take in. I was going to lose it. Hyperventilation soon, I could feel it. "So…" I took a deep breath. "No chance you'll have feelings for me?"

Ethan shook his head frantically once again. "Zero."

Ah, shit… Why me? Was I really going to agree to this?

"Fine. Yes, fine, I'll marry you, Ethan. But as soon as you get back on your feet and can afford taxes like a normal person, I'm divorcing the fuck out of you, got it?" I flicked a finger against his forehead, and he jumped up from his knees and wrapped his arms around me. I couldn't breathe—I couldn't—

"Sorry, sorry. I don't have a ring. Obviously. Can't afford one."

"I don't want one," I assured him.

"We're going to need to tell your mom. And my parents. They should come to the wedding. Well, you know," he corrected, "not the wedding, but the elopement, I suppose. At City Hall or whatever. Oh, and you should probably move into my apartment. Rent should be less than you're paying your mom to stay at home."

What did I just get myself into? All of my dreams of a big white wedding with lots of family and friends and flowers and a huge dress with a gigantic train and a beautiful veil and—no, I was getting ahead of myself. I could still have all of that once Ethan and I got divorced. But who the hell would want to date me or him while we were married?

I'd have to pray he got a better job, then. And fast. If I wanted to get married before I turned thirty—which, you know, was questionable enough as it was. This was a good alternative.

Right? Always look on the bright side of life?

I wanted to cry. Why me? Why me of all the unlucky bastards on this planet?

We walked back to town, and Ethan blathered on about something as we walked. I couldn't focus. My head spun, and I could barely see where I was walking. To focus on what he was saying would only make my headache worse. I was doing him a favor by not listening—that way he'd actually have a bride.

When we made it to my house and opened my door, I was surprised to see him walking inside ahead of me. "Ethan, what—"

"We have to tell her together. Here, give me your hand." He held his out towards me, and I stared at it with wide eyes. It was just a hand. I had held it hundreds of times and never thought of it. But now, I felt like I wanted to vomit. Was this how every girl felt when she got engaged, or was this just me?

I groaned, but I grabbed his hand, anyway. We walked together into the living room, where my mom was, and stood in front of the television. My mom's eyes flickered from our faces to our interlocked fingers back to our faces. I would have the same reaction.

"Uh, Mother…" Ethan squeezed my hands, and I wanted to cry. "I'm getting married."

She raised her eyebrows. "To whom?"

I glanced at Ethan, and then at our hands, and then back at my mom. When her expression didn't change, I stared at her with a scrunched face. "Uh… Ethan, Mom. Who do you think? You think I'd come into the house holding hands with Ethan and announce that I'm engaged to someone else, Mom? Who does that?"

"I didn't even know you were dating."

Touché. How did Ethan plan on explaining that?

On the one hand, we could just tell the truth. I mean, would my mom believe that? Probably not. She'd sooner believe that we were genuinely in love and wanted to seriously get married.

"We've been dating for several months," Ethan responded, and my mom nodded slowly—so slowly that it was clear she didn't believe that, either. "But, of course, I've known her my whole life, so I know this may seem fast, but—"

My mom shrugged, and Ethan immediately stopped talking. Really? Did my mom want to sell me off that quickly? I was so ashamed…

"Congratulations. Both of you. I didn't have a clue, but if you're happy, I'm happy for you." Mom stood up and hugged the both of us, and I glared at the wall. Maybe I was looking for an excuse to retract my offer. "Do you have any ideas on when the wedding might be?"

"We're, uh, eloping," I said quickly.

"Next week."

I nodded. "Next week—next week?" I shot Ethan a look, and he shot one back. "Ah, yes, next week. As soon as possible… ASAP, as they call it. Soon. Because we are so in love and can't wait even, you know, a month. So much love here."

Ethan chuckled awkwardly. "And Lyra's going to move in with me, right, darling?"

Darling? Oh, gag me. Please. End this misery.

"Absolutely," I agreed with a forced smile. "Also ASAP."

My mom nodded, but her lips were pursed. She wasn't believing any of this. And it wasn't as if this would be the first time Ethan and I had pulled a prank on her. Once we replaced all of the contents of her purse with cold spaghetti, and she screamed like a banshee when she reached in to grab a tissue. It was the greatest.

"Well, if you're happy, I'm happy. If you need me to do any preparations or anything, you just let me know. And I'll send your mom a message, Ethan, and ask her if there's anything I can do, all right?" My mom smiled now, though it wasn't quite contrived. "Congratulations, again. I can't believe my little girl is getting married!"

I turned away and rolled my eyes. "Thanks, Mom," I muttered, and with that, I pulled Ethan out of my house and slammed the door in his face.

Author's Note: So, it's a bit ambitious of me to write two multi-chapter fics at the same time, but I'll attempt it. I've been wanting to write a humorous fic for awhile. Totally a fan of this old "two people without feelings for each other get married" cliché, but I wanted to write it with a twist. Enjoy!