Page 8 of A Hexcellent Chance to Fall in Love

I take a sip of my drink, and damn, it’s good. Like so good, it’s bad. “What’s this called again?” Either her friend has really good taste or Pepper is psychic. It’s absolutely the perfect drink for me—creamy and sweet but not too much.

“Horchata. This particular one is pina colada.”

I take another drink, letting the flavor of sweet pineapple and coconut with a hint of cinnamon fill my mouth before swallowing it down. “My bank account will not be happy about this. I may have to come and get one of these every day.”

“So what you’re saying is that we’re gonna have to come back to taste all the different flavors.” She winks and something flutters in my stomach. I guess I’m hungrier than I thought.

“Good thing,” I reply, which makes no sense. “I mean, sure. Yes.” I bring the cup back up to my mouth to stop talking.

A woman and two small children sit at a table two down from ours. As soon as her butt hits the bench, she opens a very large canvas tote bag and pulls out paper and crayons. Both kids immediately get to work.

“Can I use the pink first?” the one with pigtails—who I’m assuming is the little sister—asks the boy.

“Yeah.” He hands the girl the pink crayon.

“Cute,” Pepper says. “They probably fight like hell, too,” she adds low enough so there’s no way anyone could accidentally overhear her.

“They probably do.” I can’t help but think of Ashley and how much that’s true for us.

If there was anything she had, I wanted it, too—because that meant it was cool, and why wouldn’t I want to be cool like my big sister?

—but then she’d get mad at me for copying her, which would turn into a fight.

And as we got older, we grew further and further apart until we were what we are now—which is complicated. “Speaking from experience or…”

She shakes her head. “Nah. I’m an only child,” she says. “You?”

“I’ve got two sisters. One older, one younger. I’m the one in the middle.”

She leans forward. “How does that work out for you?”

“Emily, that’s my little sister. She’s great and we get along awesomely. But my older sister…” I sigh. “Everything is a fight with her. I don’t get it. Nothing I do is good enough or she has to do it better. I don’t understand why she hates me so much.”

“It’s like she’s competing with you, but you aren’t competing with her.”

“Exactly.” I tilt my head at her. “Are you sure you’re an only child?”

“Positive.” She nods.

“Well, that’s a good thing for you. I can tell you firsthand having two overachieving sisters is exhausting.”

“But I thought you weren’t in competition with them.” Those eyebrows of hers quirk up again, and I swear this woman can see right through me. Never in my life has someone gotten me this quickly before. It’s almost a little spooky.

“I’m not. But tell that to my parents. I know they want what’s best for me”—something they tell me all the time—“but it’s exhausting.

” I roll my eyes, and when I glance back, Pepper is watching me—her head perched on her hands like she’s really listening.

“I’m sorry. I’m dumping all of this on you, and we don’t even know each other. ”

Pepper’s nose wrinkles, and she sits up straight. “It’s fine. I like hearing about it. Family is important. I know I miss mine. Because of work, I mean,” she quickly adds. “I just don’t get to see them much is all.”

“I think I see mine more than I want to, but I’d probably feel different if I couldn’t see them.”

“You would.” She sounds so sure of herself.

“How long has it been since you’ve seen yours?”

“It’s been a long time.” Pepper takes a deep breath and gazes up at the sky for a moment.

“And they are okay with this? You being away and your job and everything?” That didn’t sound condescending, did it?

“My parents just don’t understand why I’m teaching and not doing ‘something more important’ because I’m ‘so much better than that.’?” I use finger quotes to emphasize what my parents love to say to me.

It’s nice to have people who believe so much in me, but at the same time, my entire worth isn’t wrapped up in what I do for a living, and I wish they’d understand that.

“Teaching is one of the most important jobs. Teachers should be the highest paid profession.” Pepper’s voice gets a little louder.

“We wouldn’t have doctors or lawyers or computer programmers without teachers.

” She sits back and takes a breath. “Sorry, it’s just something that has always bothered me. ”

“No, I get it.” I really do. “Your parents must be teachers or something, right?”

She shakes her head, but doesn’t say anything, and I don’t push the topic any more.

Even though I’m here treating her like I’m an overeager Bumble date—not that I’ve used that app in ages—it doesn’t mean she feels the same.

She seems to actually know how to talk to people, unlike me.

Once Cami has her baby, we need to get our girls’ nights back on the books.

Hanging out with teens all day and then going home to my cat has obviously stunted my ability to speak with other adults. “I like your earrings.”

Her hand flies up to the side of her face, where she fingers the little metal bones. “An old girlfriend got them for me. They’re one of my favorite pairs.”

“Old girlfriend.” I clear my throat. “So you don’t see her anymore?” Real smooth, Christina, but at least it clears up the question of whether or not she likes girls.

“Not like I used to, no.”

I haven’t known Pepper long enough to say there’s something sad in her eyes, but for a moment the sparkle just doesn’t seem to be there.

“One fifty-three,” someone calls from the truck.

“That’s us.” Pepper stands. “I’m gonna…” But she doesn’t say anything else; she just walks away to get our order.

Way to go, Christina, really fucking this one up as usual.

She’s the first remotely interesting girl who asks you out in this town, and you’re royally blowing it!

Not that she really asked me out asked me out—but this is the closest thing I’ve had to an actual date in way too long.

That’s the one downside of a small town—the dating pool is very shallow.

I can’t even remember the last time I’ve been with someone, which is just sad.

Maybe I did look lonely, and that’s why she suggested this.

Pepper sets a tray down and interrupts my pity party—thank god. “I’ve been thinking,” she says. “I want to help you with this haunted house thing.”

I scrunch my brows. Is that what this has all been about? She needs some kind of side hustle? “Oh. Well. I can’t, like, hire people—”

“No. That’s not what I mean. I have a job.

I’d volunteer.” She slides my enchiladas in front of me, and oh my god, they smell so good, my mouth immediately starts to water.

“I obviously love Halloween. You seem like you could use the help, and I have the spare time being new to town and all, so…” She shrugs, then unwraps the little twisty tie from around the chips, rolls the plastic down for easier access, and sets them in front of me.

“To dip in your enchilada sauce. I thought it would be good?”

I can’t help but smile. That’s exactly what I always do with enchiladas. “You’re really easy to hang out with and talk to, you know that?”

“Girl, I got you.” She smiles back, and little fireworks explode up my spine. “So…yes, I can help you with the haunted house?”

This really pretty girl is asking if she can hang out with me more, isn’t she?

I swirl a chip in the enchilada sauce and attempt to regain my cool.

“Only if you want to. All the theater kids work on it, too, so there are a lot of hands.” Her shoulders fall, so I quickly add, “But you know how teens can be.”

She glances up, her eyes connecting with mine, and my breath catches. “It’ll be fun.”