Page 26 of A Hexcellent Chance to Fall in Love

Until the Store Closes

Christina

I’m going to do it. The last time I saw Pepper, not only did I not ask her about her social media accounts, but I also never even brought up the idea of going to my sister’s party.

But today…today is going to be different.

And it has everything to do with the fortune cookie I opened with my lunch this afternoon that said, “You will never see the view from the mountains you don’t climb,” which I took as—Christina, stop being such a scaredy-cat and just ask the girl out!

What exactly did I have to lose anyway? The worst she could say is no, and if I don’t ask, that’s already the answer, right? Plus, after that kiss the other day, it’s obvious she does like me—so maybe it won’t be as bad as my worst-case scenario brain has conjured up.

My lip starts to bleed from where I keep worrying at it as I pull into the Dead of Night parking lot.

That same new guy who Pepper had yelled at the first day I met her is racing around collecting carts—setting them up in one long line.

He isn’t a very big guy, though maybe he’s stronger than he looks; otherwise, there’s no way he’s going to get those all to move at once.

I don’t need to be a physics teacher to know that.

But just watching this kid—and his clear determination to complete what seems to me to be an impossible task—gives me the strength to unbuckle my seat belt and get out of the car.

I. Can. Do. This.

I’m going to walk into that store, find her, and ask her. It’s not weird at all. I’m just coming to see her, right? This all would be so much easier via text—and then I wouldn’t have to look her in the face while I do it.

Christina, stop. A text is a terrible idea.

My brain is racing a million miles a minute, but my feet never stop moving forward, and soon I’m greeted by the same cackling witch sound that always goes off when I enter this store.

The looming statues in the front welcome me inside with a wonky-looking arrow, pointing to where the shopping carts are, but today I don’t need one.

I quickly scan the registers. She isn’t there, so I resort to wandering up and down each aisle.

They’ve gotten more stock in since the last time I’ve been in here, or maybe things have been shifted around a little—not that it’s important.

I’m not shopping, and I’m not pretending to shop today, so it doesn’t matter. I’m on a mission.

By the time I make it halfway through the store, I start to lose my gumption.

Maybe she isn’t working today, and now I look like a stalker roaming around.

I could get something for the haunted house, but I didn’t bring my list with me.

Oh god. And now that I think about it, I left my credit card on the coffee table with my laptop.

This was a terrible idea. A horrifically terrible idea.

I grab the nearest thing off the closest shelf just to have something in my hand, and I turn into the next aisle.

Wham.

I collide with something—or rather someone.

The very someone I’ve been searching for.

My cheeks immediately get hot. “Funny bumping into you here.” OMG. Could this have started any worse? I don’t actually want to think of an answer to that.

Pepper laughs, a smile spreading across her face. “Wouldn’t want to bump into anyone else.” She gestures between us. “It is our thing after all.”

The last couple times we ran into each other, we didn’t actually collide, but all the other times it has been my fault, hasn’t it?

Is she trying to tell me I’ve hurt her? This really isn’t going as planned.

But when do plans ever go exactly the way they’re supposed to?

Maybe there’s still a way to salvage this.

Or not salvage—that’s for wrecked ships, and I’m not wrecked, am I?

“Did I lose you?” she asks.

I shake my head so my thoughts go away. “Not at all. I actually came in to see you.” Deep breath, Christina, you can do this.

She quirks up her brow. “Really? Well, I was just about to head out—”

“Oh—”

“—if you’d like to join me.”

“Oh! Yes,” I say way too enthusiastically, and put the skull I’d picked up from the last aisle onto a nearby shelf. “Where did you say you were going?” I probably should’ve asked before being so enthusiastic.

“I didn’t.” A smile plays at her lips—daring me to accept this challenge. “Let’s go.”

“Hey, Pepper.” A boy dressed as a scarecrow runs up. “You’re coming back for…” He glances around like he’s looking for someone.

“Yes. I’ll be back before Lisa gets in.”

He lets out a breath so forcefully, he practically topples over—making him look like he’s actually made of straw. “Oh good, she’s not here, because Dewy isn’t back with the cake yet either, are they?”

“They’re in the back finishing setting up. Everything is under control. Don’t worry,” Pepper says.

He flashes two thumbs-up. “I’m going to make sure there are enough streamers,” he says, and then runs off.

Pepper turns to me. “One of our staff members has a birthday today. It’s a tradition…”

“Yeah, totally.” At school it seems like there’s always cake in the teacher’s lounge for someone’s birthday. It’s the best when they get it from Flour Power on Plum Street. Their Devil’s Chocolate is to die for.

“Anyhow, are you ready?”

I take another deep breath. Surprises aren’t really my thing, but so far Pepper hasn’t done me wrong, so I relent. “Lead the way.”

Ten minutes after walking into The Dead of Night, I walk out, only this time I’m not alone.

Pepper struts next to me in one of her signature outfits—a mash of colors and patterns I’d never have the guts to put together.

We probably look like opposites. She’s the Technicolor version, and I’m here in black-and-white—mostly black, that is.

It’s not that I haven’t tried to incorporate some color into my wardrobe—but on a teacher’s salary, it makes sense to buy things that are more versatile.

And black goes with everything. Maybe it’s time to get some new shoes.

Something with a pop of color. That could be a start.

“What are you thinking about?” she asks as we head around the corner toward Plum Street, and I make sure to step over the loose cobblestone that I usually always trip over when I walk down this road.

“Shoes.” I tell her the truth, which sounds much less pathetic than thinking about my complete and total lack of style.

“Yours are cute.”

I don’t have to look down to know what she’s talking about.

Like every other day, I have on black shoes—although today they are my ankle boots and not the standard flats I generally wear.

Because today I wanted to look a little better than usual.

Because today I have a mission. But since I’m not ready to go there yet, I reply, “Yours are so much prettier.” And they are.

Under her pink and red checkered skirt is a pair of rainbow-patterned tights, which lead to some fun red suede boots that match the red in her striped jacket. “How do you do that?”

She turns her head and has those brows raised at me.

Even in my corporate life, my choice of outfit was something I used to blend into a world dominated by men, not something I used to stand out. “Everything you wear is bold and exciting, and, well, I’m—”

“Beautiful without even trying,” she says, and immediately my cheeks heat up again.

“I don’t know about that.” I awkwardly laugh.

“You should.” She steps ahead and stops right in front of me.

“Wasn’t it Eleanor Roosevelt who said, ‘No one can make you feel inferior without your consent’?

Well, you should know that you’re gorgeous.

This is a fact. No matter what you wear, you look beautiful.

And anyone else’s opinion of you doesn’t matter. ”

It isn’t just my cheeks burning now, but everything inside me tingles.

Eleanor Roosevelt has some of the most inspirational quotes—she’s one of my favorites.

As much as I want to lean in and kiss Pepper, I’m frozen to the spot, scared I’ll break the spell or whatever that has seemed to enchant this woman to say such a thing to me—about me—plain, boring, old Christina Loring.

“If you want some pretty shoes, let’s go get some.” She smiles in this way that isn’t judgmental—more like she sincerely knows me, and this is exactly what I need to hear. I don’t understand how she does it.

I smile back. “Let’s do it.”

She reaches her hand out. “I know just the place.”

I take it, allowing her to pull me across the street and down another.

Her hand is warm in mine despite the chill in the air.

And everything about how we’re connected has tingles racing up my arm.

It’s a sensation I’ve never felt before—not with anyone I’ve dated, and Pepper and I aren’t officially dating or anything, which means I like this woman more than I’ve even allowed myself to believe.

My heart is thrumming now for a whole new reason that has nothing to do with the speed at which I’m walking.

“You sure I’m not keeping you from what you need to do?” My voice is a little wobbly in my throat.

“Nah. I’m always up for shoe shopping anyway.”

She holds the door open to Sole Mates—a boutique shoe store that I’ve passed a million times but never have been inside—otherwise known as one of the two shoe stores in town.

This one, however, doesn’t sell sneakers.

Here the shoes don’t look like something a teacher would wear, and, well, that’s what I am now.

In the back of my closet, I have a pair of oxfords I haven’t worn in years after almost ruining them in the rain, and a few pairs of neutral heels that I just couldn’t part with even when I left my corporate life behind.

But honestly, my feet don’t hate the fact that I haven’t worn any of them in a very long time.