Page 21 of A Hexcellent Chance to Fall in Love

She picked up the box I’d given her, and I cringed.

How was I supposed to follow golf clubs and a paid vacation?

But before I could figure out a way to get her to stop, she already had it open, and she squealed, “This is perfect!” She yanked the robe out, clutching it tight to her chest. “This has to be the best gift ever. Thank you, Titi.” She jumped up and hugged me before slipping the robe on and wearing it for the remainder of the day.

Ashley looked like she’d bitten into an olive with a pit still inside. Mom commented, “Well, isn’t that nice.” But those things didn’t bother me, and I smiled for what felt like the first time in days.

Seeing Emily still wearing it now warms my insides.

“I get why you did it,” she says, pulling me out of my thoughts. “I just miss seeing you more is all.”

“I miss you, too.” Which isn’t a lie. It’s just everyone else I’m not excited about seeing again. Clover Creek is just far enough away that a pop-in isn’t possible, but it’s not far enough to avoid the constant guilt trips of Why don’t you come home more often?

“Okay, enough of that. Give me the tea. What’s going on? Who’s sleeping with who in the teachers’ lounge?” Emily gives me a smile, the real happy one she’s known for. She’s good at this, at people and small talk, something I am not.

I laugh. “It’s not that dramatic.” Although Fran and Lotti have seemed to be a little extra flirty since Fran finalized her divorce.

I could totally picture them going at it on the worn-out green sofa in the corner of the teachers’ lounge—even with the mayonnaise grease stain.

At least we all hope it’s just mayo. Who else has braved the stain for some French lessons on that old thing?

“Oh…you’ve got something. Tell me.” She brings the phone closer like she’s leaning in for me to whisper in her ear.

“It’s nothing.” But Pepper’s face flashes through my mind.

“You like someone. Is it that new coach? What did you say their name was?”

“It’s not the coach,” I say. But if she thinks it could be, does that mean I gave off that impression? Does anyone at school think—I shake my head. “It’s not that big a deal. She works at the Halloween store and has offered to help with the haunted house is all.”

“Hold up. She’s providing free labor to hang out with you? She sounds amazing. Tell me more. What does she look like?”

How does one describe Pepper in a way that would do her justice? “A ray of sunshine on an otherwise cloudy day” could do the trick, but it really isn’t something Emily could picture. “Dark hair, blue eyes, and her wardrobe spilled out of a box of Fruity Pebbles.”

“Well, you could use a little color in your life.” Emily laughs.

“Black is just easier. It goes with everything.” And it’s harder to stain.

“When are you going to see her again?”

“Soon, probably. I’m in the store all the time.” I force a laugh. It kind of makes me sound like a stalker—which I’m totally not—but the sound is fake even to my own ears. Emily will never buy it.

“Bring her to the party,” she suggests as if this were the most logical thing in the world. It isn’t.

I stare blankly at her. “We barely know each other, and I’m supposed to be like, ‘Hey, want to come to my baby sister’s engagement party with me’?”

“Yes. That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do. What’s wrong with that?”

“Don’t you think it would be awkward for her? Meeting the family feels like something you do after dating for, I don’t know, weeks or months even, not when you’ve just hung out a few times.”

“Consider it a crash course. If she can’t get along with the Loring family, you don’t have to waste your time.”

I purse my lips at her. She has a point. “I hate it when you make so much sense.”

She gasps. “How dare I be so reasonable.”

We both laugh. Why can’t the rest of my family be this easy to talk to?

I take a deep breath. “I’m not like you or Ashley. So please don’t be disappointed if I come alone, okay?”

“Oh my god. Never,” Emily says. “I want you to be happy. No pressure. But if you’re feeling it, just know it’s okay. And I promise not to say anything to anyone, and if you show up with her, cool. If not, NBD. I’m just happy you’re coming.”

“And giving a speech.”

“Yeah, and that.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” I tell her.

“Yes, I am,” she says. “Now, about me.” She winks. “It looks like we are going into beta testing soon.”

“Already? That’s amazing.”

“Our programmers are gods—at least that’s what I’m telling everyone. But seriously, they’re so excited, too. Profit sharing was totally the right thing to do. You’re a genius, by the way.”

“Says the girl who’s about to be the next Bill Gates.” My kid sister is literally one of the smartest women I know. Plus, she’s outgoing and not afraid of anything—like failure. Sometimes I wish I could be more like her.

Emily’s cheeks flush red—a trait she shares with me.

For the next ten minutes, she gives me the rundown about her work and what’s all going on—and to be honest, I understand only about half of what she says. Tech has never been my thing. I’m lucky I can get my phone or computer to work most days.

“But seriously, think about inviting this girl, okay?”

“I promise you I’ll think about it.”

“What’s her name? I’m going to look her up on social.”

I clench my teeth. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet.”

She lets out a long sigh. “Fine. For now,” she says. “Talk to you soon.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

And then she’s gone.

With my phone still in my hand, I log in to socials and look up Pepper White.

I seriously can’t believe I didn’t think of doing this before.

The list of people with the same name is surprisingly longer than I expected, but none of them seem to be her, so I try a different social media site instead.

Not everyone has accounts on every platform; I keep contemplating deleting mine, but then what would the family say?

I roll my eyes before searching for Pepper. But again, I can’t find her.

My finger traces the scar on my arm. I have social media only for family reasons, and I don’t really post anything.

Maybe she’s just incognito—like she’s one of those accounts on private without a photo of herself as the profile picture.

Or maybe she doesn’t have an account at all. I’ll ask her the next time I see her.

On the screen is a post from my older sister, Ashley—a picture of a wrapped gift she can’t wait to give Emily for her engagement. Seriously, she’s already gotten them a present? And according to the description, she’s already written her speech, too.

Ugh.

I close the app and grab my laptop. No way can I show up unprepared to this event.

Maybe having someone with me wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world.

Maybe then my family won’t talk about how I’m the last to find someone, and I won’t have to explain a million times how I’m not dating anyone.

Plus, it would be nice to have a reason to hang out with Pepper again.

But do I have the courage to ask her?