“I know.”
“Oh. Cool. So what’s up?” That’s his cue for us to talk about something else, but I’m not taking it.
“I’m calling about Pippa.”
“Uh oh. What did she do this time? Everyone has a story about my sister.”
And I’m hoping for a love story, as cheesy as that sounds. I clear my throat. “I’m courting her.”
“You’re taking her to court?”
“No, pursuing my interest in her.”
“Wow. That sounds oddly formal but cool.”
“In a romantic way, Freddie.” Before I can talk myself out of it, I tell him how I had a crush on her in high school and everything that led to now. “Fact, my best friend’s sister should ring all the warning bells. Instead, she lights up all my buttons.”
“Mate, I do not want to hear about your buttons, whatever those are. But I respect you for bringing this to me and I give you my blessing.”
“You do?”
“Sure. Can’t think of anyone else I’d want as a brother-in-law. But if you hurt her, I’ll?—”
“I know you will.”
“Things with you and Aimme good? Any tips?”
“Eh. Nah. I should hop off. Stuff to do. But don’t forget my half-birthday coming up. I expect nothing less than the best.”
I get off the phone with a shaky stream of relieved laughter and don’t waste another minute thinking about what I’m about to do.
First, I stop at a pet store, barely making it there minutes before it closes. Next, I stop at a market and pick up very important supplies. Last stop, Pippa’s, where I admit that I havea lift in my step, knowing things are cool with Freddie. Maybe Grey was right and it’s best to just talk things through.
Arms full, I ring the bell once, twice, and then hear the patter of footsteps coming from wooden stairs.
Pippa peeks out the door. She wears her glasses and a giant sweatshirt. Interestingly, it’s Bruisers’ colors...and if memory serves, it should have the logo on the back.
“Hi,” she says, adjusting the adorably messy bun on top of her head.
“I brought cookies, but now I’m wondering if I should’ve brought buns.”
“Bums?” She adjusts her eyeglasses and laughs.
I do too. “I also have some flowers, lizard-catching supplies, and milk for the cookies. They’re the butter kind, which I remember you like.”
“Oh, what’s the occasion?”
I shrug. “Just wanted to see you.” I pass her the flowers.
“These are for me? Right now? I’m, uh—” She seems flustered.
“Do you have company?” I ask, trying to make this less awkward.
“No.” But she doesn’t move to invite me up.
I give the plastic terrarium I got at the pet store a shake. “Want to go lizard hunting?”
“Cecil, the building custodian, caught Chompy the Swamp King.”
