Chapter 2: I'm Kind of Illegal

Shockingly, Noah asked me if I wanted to meet up over coffee and catch up on our lives.

I politely declined, saying I worked all day and couldn't get a day off. It was the truth. I couldn't afford a day off to drink coffee.

Later, he asked to meet after work which I responded with another refusal. He had to understand. I got off work at midnight, went down to the local beach, and then went home.

I needed the "me" time so I wouldn't go insane.

Which was exactly what I did the rest of the week. One of those days, I was sitting on the dry sand right where the water would only touch my feet and run back into the ocean. As I let the water absorb my stress, another figure took a seat next to me.

I was about to lash out when I realized it was a familiar figure.

"Noah?"

"Yes, that's my name." He nodded his head in agreement. "My parents agreed it was Christian enough."

"What are you doing here?" I asked disregarding his words.

He was dressed in a white button down and black pants. His socks and shoes were resting on the sand behind us.

"I was told by your brother I might find you here if I wanted to talk to you," he said casually.

"Where did you see my brother? Which brother?" I asked worried. Noah didn't go to my house, did he?

"Arman," replied Noah. "His school had a field trip at our company for the business students." That made sense. Business was Arman's Plan B if he couldn't become a Pilot. "He's as tall as me and less anger-driven since the last time we talked." I nodded. Arman used to be an aggressive child with serious anger issues, but he had grown better. "I'm sorry."

I looked at him bemused. "Sorry?"

"He told me about your mom. No wonder you couldn't take a day off to meet me," Noah said quietly.

"Is there anything else he told you about our family that I should know?" I asked him. Arman wasn't usually the one to reveal anything to anyone. Therefore, Noah knowing all of this pissed me off.

"Look I wasn't prying, just curious—"

"People's lives fall apart, and so did mine. Nothing more to it," I said in a disdainful tone.

"Hey, if there's any way I could help—"

Sure, you want to marry me and give me a green card?

"That's okay. Thanks for the offer," I said.

"Olivia loved the flowers, so I owe you," he said trying to lighten the mood.

"Noah," I said with a solemn look, "was there a reason you wanted to meet up?"

He shrugged. "I thought it'd be fun to catch up with life."

"Sorry, my life has no room for 'fun.'" I stood up and dusted all the sand off my clothes. "It was nice to see you after five years."

I didn't have the heart to look at him for a response. As much as I tried not to, I still felt resentment against people who were citizens, had nothing to worry about, and felt the need to sympathize with me. I was tired of my brothers and I being pitied.

I left Noah with a polite goodbye and prayed to God we wouldn't see each other again.

* * * * *

Why are there so many cars outside?

I quickly texted Catalina as I walked across the parking lot. It was as if Christmas had come early and the customers were shopping for family reunions.

Just as I was about to enter the building, Catalina's text made me take an immediate u-turn. I tore the name tag of my work shirt and shoved it in my jacket pocket.

People from Homeland Security. Checking everyone's ID's and social security numbers!

I couldn't thank Catalina enough for responding to my text so fast. One second would've made a huge difference.

My eyes studied the parking lot and encountered no one checking for incoming employees. It was fair to say anyone watching the cameras would assume I was another customer leaving the parking lot.

I almost ran home afraid the government would catch me. If I got caught, Arman and Ishak were going to be all alone. I'd get deported and who knows, they might too!

As soon as I got home, I was relieved to find an eerie silence. My brothers had three hours left of school. I couldn't go back to work under any circumstance. And I couldn't stay home either.

I texted my boss I was sick and couldn't come in. He didn't know I was an illegal citizen even though he paid me cash. I told him I got paid check at my second job and wouldn't get enough financial assistance in college if I made too much money. He believed me. I served the same story to my other boss who believed me too.

Not anymore.

Since when did Homeland Security start doing random workplace checks?

I had to do something. The constant worry about Arman skipping school, us getting caught and deported was driving me insane.

I texted Noah because he seemed to be the only person I talked to from school.

Can we meet today? I desperately need your help.

Forget the pride.

His response came after an hour: Sure. As long as you promise not to run away from the beach again tonight.

I sighed and replied: I promise.

We finalized meeting up at seven rather than midnight. I cooked dinner for Ishak and Arman who were astounded seeing me in the kitchen after so long.

"What's going on? You skipped work?" Ishak asked scowling.

"I have an important meeting to attend," I told him dismissively. "Bug off."

"No way," Arman said entering the kitchen. "Meeting with who? Is it a date? You want me to go with you? Or are you finally capitulating yourself to prostitution? It's mostly legal in Europe, you know?"

"You finally found yourself a sugar daddy?!" Ishak said amazed.

"Shut up." I tried to shoo them away with the wooden spatula I had been using to make the noodle soup.

"Wait a minute, is it Noah?" asked Arman. "I saw him at a school field trip."

"Noah Miller?" Ishak asked. Arman nodded swiftly. "His mom hated us."

"Wasn't she half Indian and half Portuguese?" Arman asked. "She should like us because we are also Indian."

"She was born and raised here and married a white guy," I explained. "I think she has a superiority complex. She didn't fancy us because we belong to a heritage she doesn't really like to associate with."

"Plus, we are poor." Arman shrugged. He helped himself to an apple from the fridge and bit into it.

"Whatever," I said uninterested in Noah's mother. "It's not like I'm marrying Noah and she's gonna be my mother-in-law. He already has a girlfriend."

"Oh," the boys said simultaneously in a deflated tone.

I didn't say anything else.

They ate dinner early and proceeded to do their school assignments.

I left the house in a hurry, praying to God to redeem Himself after all the torture he had put my family through.

Noah was already seated in the same spot as yesterday. When I plopped down on the sand next to him, he looked at me expectantly.

"You're alive," he stated.

"Unfortunately," I couldn't help but say. "Nevertheless, I need a huge favor and I'll do anything you ask for."

His eyes lit up. "Anything?"

"Anything reasonable."

"Okay, what's the favor?" he asked curiously.

"I need you to find me someone to marry." I said it all in one breath.

Noah's forehead furrowed in confusion. "You want me to be your wingman?"

I shook my head vigorously. "I need you to find me a guy we might know and is willing to marry me. Someone with whom my marriage will appear believable. Someone from our high school preferably. For a few months."

"I don't follow," he said slowly. "You want to play husband-wife with somebody?"

I examined the beach. All the singles, couples, and families were a safe distance away. Still, I leaned in and whispered, "I'm kind of illegal. I need to marry someone for citizenship."

A moment of silence followed my words. I awaited Noah's reaction which was guarded by a stoic look.

"You know a lesbian relationship might get you—"

"Oh c'mon," I interrupted.

He chuckled softly. "Wow. I can't believe you're actually . . . Mom used to say you guys were, but I didn't really believe her."

"How did she know?" I asked immediately. Did I carry a sign over my head or something?

"I have no idea. My mom knows everything about everybody."

That was true indeed. His mom was a gossip queen and didn't spare anyone. She always knew what was going on in other people's houses. This habit made me resent her in my childhood.

"That's not important," I said waving it off. "You were a jock in high school and knew everybody. Can't you hook me up with somebody?"

He sighed and looked at the ocean thoughtfully.

"How about Greyson?" he offered. When I raised an eyebrow, he elaborated. "The guy who you said called you cute in middle school."

I rolled my eyes. "Really? You remembered him?" I couldn't help but laugh. "He used to stare me whenever we shared the same space. It made me so uneasy."

"He'll be perfect for you," he said as if he had pinned it all down.

"No way. The USCIS would never believe an interracial marriage. Greyson was Jamaican, and I'm Indian." And I really don't want a creepy guy as my fake husband.

"My parents had an interracial marriage," he defended. That explained why he was attractive. I quickly freed the thought and focused on my life problems.

"Good for you, but I need someone I'll be comfortable pretending to be in love with," I told him.

"You might as well marry me then," he said jokingly.

"Can't you just find me some mixed kid or someone with some Indian descent to make the fraud less fraudulent?"

He made a bunch of weird faces before bursting into "eureka!"

I didn't know the reason behind his exhilaration and I was rightfully afraid to find out.

"I know how we can both have a win-win situation," he said. He turned his body so we were facing each other.

"I'm all ears."

"Why don't we get married?" he said as if he had solved the root of all problems.

"Don't you have a girlfriend?" I asked confused. "You bought her flowers last week."

"That's the reason why," he said, his happiness toning down. "My mom is picky about the girls I date. She desperately tries to match me to a rich girl to keep the money in the family. Olivia belongs to a less successful household which mom loathes. She despises my girlfriend to the point where she refuses to even see her face. For her to accept Olivia, I need to introduce someone worse!"

"Ouch," I said pathetically.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "But for some reason, my mom never liked you when we moved into your neighborhood." My brother wasn't wrong after all. "While she hates you, Olivia will work her way into mom's heart. By the time mom changes her mind, you'll have your green card and I can have my girlfriend as my wife."

"Why all the drama? Why do you need your mother's permission to marry Olivia? Aren't you like twenty-four?" It didn't make sense to me.

"Twenty three," he corrected. "Mom's orthodox, you know. I love her and don't want to end up ruining a relationship with her all because of a girl."

"However, you're willing to give her a heart attack by marrying me?" I proposed.

"Yep." He grinned goofily.

"I'm terrified of her," I told him. "There's no way I'm having her as a mother-in-law. No offense."

"She's not scary," he refuted. "Besides, she thought we had something going on in high school."

"So did half of the neighborhood. All because we were in the same grade and the same age," I said remembering the old times. "The neighborhood kids were devils. You always added fuel to the fire, saying we were indeed in a relationship. Just so they wouldn't know who you were actually dating."

"It was a smart tactic," he boasted. "Because now we can use it to our advantage. We have a pre-existing history."

"You have a girlfriend."

"We're going to publicly breakup soon," he said, pulling out his phone. "I'm gonna tell her about the plan. Her and your brothers. No one else, alright?"

"Are you sure, Noah?"

"Didn't you want someone with Indian descent? I'm like thirty percent—"

"No seriously," I said. "This is all of a sudden. I don't want to push my problems in your life. It's not worth the struggle."

"Trust me, this is gonna be the best fraud marriage ever." He was more excited than a little kid riding the ferris wheel.

I never thought asking him for help meant asking him for marriage.

What was God planning for me?

-———-/-/———-

A/N

Is it too long? I'm not sure what chapter length is the ideal.

What do you think about the characters?

Is the plan fool proof?