Page 43 of A Hexcellent Chance to Fall in Love

Am I? “Maybe she knows how to format a spreadsheet,” I say to try and change the subject.

“You know, I’m sure she’d format anything of yours that you wanted.” Cami’s eyebrows dance again.

“Oh my god. Stop.”

“All I’m saying is that you’ll never know unless you put yourself out there.”

But that’s what’s so terrifying. It’s been years since I’ve had that shaken-up-soda-in-my-stomach feeling for anyone, and Pepper and I haven’t even dated for long.

What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I screw it all up before it even has a chance to ever really start?

My relationships never seem to work out, and I’m not ready to let Pepper go.

“So you have a million things to do,” Cami says, changing the subject for me.

That’s one of the best things about her, she never pushes me too far.

But she’s right, I have to at least try to make a move.

And maybe I will. “You’re going to be fine.

And if you’re missing anything, send one of the seniors off for it or something.

They’ll think it’s cool to help run errands. ”

“Because errands are so much fun.” My list of things to do is ever-growing. Like the pile of clothes by the door that I need to take to the dry cleaner, and if Cami hadn’t asked me to grab some food, I’d likely be eating pickles and crackers for dinner. I really need to get to the grocery store.

“They are for kids who never have to do them.”

“Do you think I could get one of them to go grocery shopping for me?”

Cami laughs. “I mean, I bet they would, but if you’re picky about your laundry detergent or anything—be specific because you never know what you’ll get.”

“Good point.”

A server shows up with our tachos—tater tots covered in cheese, pico de gallo, pulled pork, sour cream, and guacamole—and an order of their Cure for Your Hangover Mac ’n’ Cheese—which is their signature macaroni and cheese with hash browns, bacon, a poached egg, and lots of jalapenos—and two plates.

Cami takes a big sniff of the tachos. “Whoever said ‘Let’s make nachos but use tater tots instead’ is my hero.” She scoops a mound onto her plate and then goes for the mac and cheese.

“They really are delicious. I’ve never had them with the pulled pork before so I’m excited to try it.” I take some of the jalapenos from the other dish and add them to my tachos.

“Oh, that’s a good idea.” Cami copies me by putting a jalapeno on her bite of tachos and then adds some of the bacon and mac and cheese, too. “Can you pass me the Cholula?” she asks around her bite.

I slide the container of condiments her way, and my breath catches.

While Cami happily adds hot sauce to her plate, I’m staring at the spot behind where the condiments just were.

A place that says CL + in the exact way that I loop my letters—like I had been the one to do it—with a giant heart around it, and next to it there’s a flower.

The same flower that I keep seeing over and over.

I close my eyes, and I can picture myself using the tip of a broken pen to etch my initials, laughing and glancing across this very table, but there’s no one there with me.

“Earth to Christina,” Cami says.

“What?” I shake my head and the vision fades away, but there’s gooseflesh all over my arms.

“Are you okay? You look like Mr.Wilkson just assigned you to watch over Saturday detention.”

“Have you ever done something and then not remembered doing it?” I ask, but I already know the answer for myself is no. Or was no until this moment. Now I’m not so sure.

Cami shrugs. “All the time.” She laughs, but I don’t join her. There’s nothing funny about this, is there?

“No, I mean…” I point to my initials, to the heart and flower, and to the blank space where it looks like someone else’s initials should be but aren’t.

“Whoa. That looks like your—”

“I know.”

“And you didn’t—”

“Not that I remember.” Panic creeps into my voice. This is beyond weird. It’s almost downright scary.

“Whoa,” she says again. “You haven’t even dated anyone seriously since you’ve moved here, have you? I mean, aside from right now?” For the second time, Pepper flashes in my head.

“Yeah, in all my free time I’m swiping up and down or whatever.”

“I think it’s left and right.”

“Who cares?” I snap. “Why are my initials here?” I finally peel my gaze away from the wall and make eye contact with Cami. “I’m sorry. I’m kind of freaking out.”

“It’s okay. I would be, too. This is seriously creepy.” She picks up a tater tot and pops it into her mouth.

“It has to be someone else, right?” Someone else who has the exact same handwriting as me. Doppelg?ngers exist, so maybe it’s possible two people write exactly the same.

Cami nods. “It has to be.”

I pick up my fork and create the perfect bite, but before I put it in my mouth, I glance back over at the wall. “Have you seen this flower before?” It cannot possibly be a coincidence.

Cami shifts on the bench to try and get a better look. “It’s cute, but it’s not, like, super artistic or anything.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know.”

I turn away from the wall, and instead of the perfect bite, I take a long drink of my sangria. It doesn’t help.

“I’m sorry,” Cami says.

“It’s fine. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.” I finally take the bite, and it’s the perfect blend of cheese and heat, and the pulled pork is really delicious, too. “Good choice,” I say even though I’m having a hard time truly enjoying it.

“Thanks,” she says, but her voice seems tentative.

This is totally fine. I’m totally fine. “So, yeah, I’m not sure if I have everything I need for this weekend.” I attempt to get us back on track, but my gaze keeps shifting to the wall.

“Right, you were saying that.”

I swallow another bite of my tachos. “You think I should tell Pepper how I feel?”

Cami’s brows rise. “I think it would be worth a shot.” She sips her chocolate milk, looking at me from over the top of her glass. “And she’s cute, right?”

“That’s not the point.”

Cami shakes her head. “No. Of course not,” she says. “But what if she feels the same? That would be good, right? And then maybe she would stick around.”

She’s making a lot of sense.

“Maybe I should take another trip over there—to The Dead of Night—and tell her.”

“I think you should.” Cami douses more of her food with Cholula sauce. “This weekend, I get to go stroller shopping.”

“One of those fun errands.”

“Exactly.” Cami half smiles and goes back to mixing everything on her plate together as she glances at the wall. “We’re never sitting at this table again.”

A chill runs up my spine. “Never.”