CHAPTER 5: RING

He approaches the counter, and I still haven't looked up. "So, what can I do to help? Earrings or a necklace with diamonds?" he inquires.

"No, my girlfriend and I are here to pick out an engagement ring for her," Mark responds. He's quite adept at making up stories. Sometimes, I even find myself briefly believing him.

When I finally glance up, I see the familiar face. "Richie?" I inquire.

"Well, if it isn't Savi," he replies. Richie's real name is Nick, but I've always called him Richie. It might seem a bit confusing. Richie was like a mentor to me during my freshman year in high school.

When I was a freshman, Richie and I were paired up. He guided me on how to interact with teachers and showed me where my classes were. In a way, he was like a guardian angel watching over me.

You might still be wondering why we call each other by different names. I don't remember much about how it started, but I do recall that he once asked me for my middle name and the name of my street. I told him for some reason; I'm just not sure why.

Since my middle name is Savi and his middle name is Richard, we spent the whole year calling each other by those names and remained friends until he graduated.

Mark had no idea who the man in front of us was, why he called me Savi, or how we knew each other. "Um, I think this is Nick or Richie, Mark. Nick, this is my boyfriend, Mark," I explain.

"Nice to meet you," Richie says.

"Yeah, you too," Mark responds, trying to sound friendly, though he might be attempting to appear slightly jealous.

"How have you been?" I ask, and we haven't even discussed the ring yet.

"Good. I got a job in retail after I finished my degree, and now I work here," Richie replies, gesturing toward the store we're in. "You're getting married?"

"Yep, I know, it's weird, right?" I say, blushing a bit. Mark gives me an odd look and appears impatient.

"So, Yanna, see anything you like?" Mark brings us back to our initial reason for being here.

"I'm not sure. Richie, do you have anything vintage?" I ask, hoping for a good answer.

"I'll go check again," Richie says.

Mark glances at me as Richie walks away. "Have you two dated before?"

I give him a quizzical look. "What?"

"Have you been a couple?" He asks again, this time sounding rather indifferent.

"No, we haven't. Before my freshman year, when I met Maya, he was just a good friend. Maya knows there's nothing more to it," I explain.

Richie returns by this point. Mark didn't have a chance to ask Maya or tell her to stop. "I went to the back and found a bunch of vintage rings," Richie says.

I don't need to look at any more rings because I've already found the one I want. I pick it up, and Richie takes the tray away when he sees me eyeing him. My mind is made up.

I'm not great at describing things, especially when it comes to girly stuff, but let's just say it's a rose gold ring with small diamonds on the band and a large iridescent diamond in the center. At least, that's how I'd describe it.

"It's beautiful," I say in amazement.

"Try it on," Mark suggests.

I follow his advice, and it fits perfectly. I'm relieved it worked out; resizing an old ring is tough. It's possible but not easy.

"Is this going to be your ring?" Mark inquires.

"Um... how much does it cost?" I hesitate to say yes only to find out it's a $30,000 ring.

"Let me handle that." Mark goes somewhere, does something, and returns with a small piece of paper. "Here." He hands it to Mark.

"That makes sense." I take the paper in my hand. "No, since you picked it, you should let me pay for it," Mark says as he tears the paper into bits and puts them in his pocket.

"Okay," I want to sound insistent, but I can't help but admire the ring. It's truly lovely. I've never liked something so girly this much before. The ring suits me perfectly. It's quirky and eye-catching. As a baby, people often said the same about me. I was loud because I never stopped crying, and I looked peculiar because I could walk on my own at just six months old.

Mark gives Richie his card and pays for the ring. "Well, I hope you like the ring, and you better invite me to the wedding."

"We will, for sure. Thanks, Richie," I say. I want to hug him, but I also don't want to lean on the counter, so we end up not hugging.

We don't talk much until we're a bit away. "You okay?" Mark asks.

"Yeah. I know this isn't real, but it still makes me happy," I confess.

We continue in silence until we reach the car. "So, what kind of ring should my engagement ring be?" Mark suddenly asks.

I'm a bit surprised and chuckle. "What?" I ask with a smile.

"You heard me," he replies, also smiling.

"Hmm. Maybe a rose gold ring with a silver center could be nice," I suggest. It's surprising even to me. I guess all this wedding stuff is starting to get to me.

"I like it," he says. "Where do you want to go for dinner?"

"When's the next time you'll be free?" I ask, skillfully avoiding his question.

"At five, where do you want to eat?"

"I have no idea which place you'll choose," I admit.

"Me neither," he says.

"You decide."

"I will."

"No!"

"No!"

"Yes!" he exclaims.

"Haha, you've got to decide," I say, smirking.

"Fine. I know a decent restaurant nearby," Mark says as he turns the car left.

I spot a small diner. "You weren't kidding about it being close."

"Nope, not at all," he smirks.