I walk over and sit on my bed, lying back against the headboard with my hands underneath my head. As she works, the little sliver of her tan back plays peekaboo with her crop top and tantalizes me as she rises to push clothes around. Finally, she pulls a shirt out, one of my newest T-shirts—sans holes and stains—a nicer pair of khaki shorts, and my loafers, and she sets them in front of me.
“I’ll leave you to change,” she says with a smile before whirling to head out of my bedroom, the door clicking behind her.
I stare down at the outfit, something I wouldn’t normally wear out to “explore” or run errands. I’m most comfortable in what I have on, but part of me fears the wrath of five-foot-two Pepper on a clothing rampage, so I swiftly change, spray some cologne, and run deodorant under both arms before slipping into the loafers.
What is happening to me?
Opening my bedroom door, I’m greeted by Pepper’s appraising stare as she hoists her purse onto her shoulder and then beams a grin at me.
“Perfect. Let’s go,” she says, walking toward the front door.
After a brief fight over who is driving, Pepper relents and climbs into my truck once she realizes she will be able to look around more if she isn’t driving. That’s fine with me. I don’t like to leave my life in the hands of other drivers. Namely, small women I don’t know. Much. If at all. But someone I very much want to know.
“Where to first?” I ask as soon as I pull out of the apartment parking lot. When Pepper doesn’t immediately answer, I glance over and see her scrunching her nose up at her phone. “Hello?”
“Oh, sorry. What? Oh, right. To Vanderbilt, please.” She turns with a smile.
I raise an eyebrow. “To the school you aren’t attending?”
“Yep,” she says, reaching over to buckle her seat belt and slipping her phone into her purse. “Promise you won’t laugh?”
“No.”
“Okay, good enough,” she says with a chuckle. “My parents will be coming to visit soon, and they want a tour. So, I have to know where everything is. You’re my accomplice, and I’m swearing you to secrecy.”
“That’s just a fancy way of you saying that I have to lie for you.”
“Well … don’t put it that way. It sounds bad.”
“Why don’t you just tell your parents? Hiding stuff from them will only end up causing problems when it all comes out.”
“Who are you, the moral police?” She glares over at me.
I throw one hand up in mock surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”
“Well, don’t give me a reason to shoot you,” she says, narrowing her eyes. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” She sighs and leans back against the seat.
“I probably understand more than you know.” As soon as I say it, I regret the words. I don’t want to talk about my situation with my brother.
I can feel Pepper’s eyes on me, but I don’t look over. Maybe she doesn’t care, or she doesn’t want to pry, but she doesn’t ask me any questions, and I let out a sigh of relief.
“We’re here,” I tell her, pulling up to the outer edges of campus and parking.
“Great. Let’s go to the office part of it. Do you know where that is?”
We get out, and she puts her hand up to her brow to shield her eyes from the sun as she peers off into the grounds, as if she could see the administration building from here.
“No clue.”
I shove my hands in my pockets, and we start walking toward the closest building, Pepper chattering on about how pretty the bushes or some shit is. I just nod and occasionally drop back a few steps, so I can absolutely not watch her backside as she walks. After what seems like forever, we find the administration building, and Pepper stops in front of it to dig in her purse.
“Here,” she says, handing me her phone and walking a few steps forward before turning back around to face me. “Take a picture of me to send to my mom.”
She throws her hands up and grins wide, and I fumble around, trying to turn her camera on before raising it and snapping a picture.
“You’re going all out for this lie, aren’t you?” I ask, mainly in jest but she still furrows her brow and scowls at me.
“Look, I know this can’t last forever, but I just don’t want to deal with it right now. My parents expect me to take over Stratten Enterprises when I graduate, and I don’t want to see the disappointment on their faces when I tell them I’ve decided to be a pastry chef instead.”
She takes her phone back from me and looks at the picture I took before opening her messages and sending it off to her mom.
“Don’t you think they’ll be more disappointed that you lied?”
“Yeah, I’m sure they will be, but I’ve already done it. So, either way, it’ll be bad.”
Her expression becomes shut off, and I feel upset for pressing her. It’s good to know that she knows what kind of fallout she’s facing though.
“Ready to head back?” I start backing up before she grabs my hand and walks up the steps.
“Not so fast. We have to go inside for a second.”
I nod and follow her, glad to feel her hand in mine for the second time today before realizing that I shouldn’t be glad and we shouldn’t be holding hands.
Friends. Roommates. Mason’s cousin.
“What?” Pepper stops and looks back at me, tilting her head to the side.
I must have said it out loud.
“Nothing,” I mutter, and she shrugs.
We browse the main office for flyers and school paraphernalia before Pepper declares herself satisfied
