I sigh, acknowledging that this is it. I can’t keep this secret without losing her, and I can’t tell her without hurting Piper in the process.
The drive back to her house is quiet, unlike the screaming in my heart for letting it come to this.
For losing her again.
The colorful Christmas lights strung along her house give her silhouette a festive glow, but the anger radiating off of her is anything but. She doesn’t leave the truck right away, but she hasn’t spoken a word during the drive here. She’s been on her phone, scrolling social media, or possibly texting. I don’t know. I just know that she’s furious with me. I’ve tried wrapping my head around any excuse to give her to make her change her mind, but it’s useless.
There isn’t a damn thing I can do without hurting everyone involved.
“Wait here,” Phoebe says curtly as she gets out of the truck, slamming the door angrily behind her.
“Yes ma’am,” I mutter under my breath, knowing she won’t hear me. I’ve seen her upset, I’ve seen her happy, but this might be the first time I’ve seen her angry. She’s a force to be reckoned with, stomping her way all the way to the front door and throwing it open in an irritated fashion.
A few minutes later the front door opens, and Piper steps out. She bundled up in a dark green winter coat, and she’s wearing the most ridiculous bright yellow beanie. She looks like she just stepped out of a Packers game. She shoots me a look that just screams ‘you done messed up Spencey’ as she walks up to the truck and gets into the passenger seat.
My heart drops when I realize that Phoebe isn’t going to come back out, even if it’s what I wholly deserve.
“Sup, Spence,” Piper happily greets me. “I’ve come equipped with a list of craft items and an earful of Phoebe’s rage. Which should we discuss first?” She flashes me a smug smile and reaches into her bright yellow purse, pulling out a small notepad.
“I guess we can talk while we shop. Where to?” I sigh, putting the truck in gear and driving away from the house.
“Hobby Lobby, I guess. Pheebs gave us a list of supplies she needs you to get for the ugly sweater contest,” Piper says as I drive down the main road, taking a left past the Christmas market and heading towards the small shopping center in Noelsville.
Our town isn’t tiny, but it’s not large either. We’ve got most of the convenience stores, and plenty of fast food chains to pick from. The best part about this town is the small town feel. Everyone knows everyone, and everyone greets each other with a smile. Most of the locals try their best to shop at the Mom & Pop shops over the larger chain stores. Hobby Lobby is the go-to craft store in town though, and it’s located only a few miles from the town center. We pull into the crowded parking lot and make our way inside.
It’s like Christmas threw up in here. There are decorations of every kind just waiting to be purchased and taken home. The entire store smells like those cinnamon infused pinecones, which now just remind me of Phoebe and our Fireball night.
“Cheer up, Romeo. She won’t stay mad forever. Grab a cart and let’s get this over with. I have a date with Mom’s homemade apple pie,” Piper says. “Now, tell me what you did to piss off my sister. I’ve never seen her this angry. And you know she’s always been the moody twin,” she remarks, raising her eyebrows at me in question. “So, spill it.”
I push the cart through several aisles, trying to find one that isn’t flooded with shoppers. I steer us towards the back of the store, where the crowd is thinnest and stop in front of a row of frames. “Phoebe is pissed at me because she asked why I kissed you during the Winter Formal,” I admit, blowing out a breath of frustration.
“Oh.” Piper’s eyes go wide as she stares at me. “Did…did you tell her?”
I give her a look of indignation. “Of course I didn’t. I wouldn’t do that to you,” I promise her.
She yanks her bright yellow beanie off of her head and throws it into her giant bag. “Well shit. This puts a damper on my whole ‘if you hurt my sister I’ll cut your nads off’ talk,” she chuckles. “This is all my fault, Spencer. I promise I’ll fix this.”
She’s gnawing on her bottom lip the way Phoebe does when she’s nervous or upset.
“Don’t worry about it, Pipes. Phoebe and I just aren’t written in the stars,” I pause, forcing myself to come to terms with what I’ve just admitted to her. “And that’s okay.”
Piper stomps her foot loudly, and throws her hands onto the cart, making me jump in the process. “No it’s not! None of this is okay. You and Phoebe are soulmates, and we’ve both known it for years. I’ll talk to her. I’ll fix this. You both shouldn’t have to suffer just because I’m a coward,” she exclaims. “It’s about time for my family to know the real me anyways, right?”
A small, nervous smile plays on her lips, but I know she’s an anxious mess on the inside.
I reach over and ruffle her hair, and she yelps in protest. “Pipes, I’d never forgive myself if you got hurt because of all of this too, so don’t force yourself to do anything you’re not ready for. Promise me?”
She quickly puts her short, dark hair back into place. “I promise. Even if I don't come clean to my entire family, I swear I’ll talk to Phoebe. Pinky promise.” She holds her pinky out, and we both settle into comfortable companionship after I’ve sealed the promise by wrapping my pinky up with hers.
Phoebe may have my heart, but Piper will always be my best friend.
“What does your sister have on that list? We don’t have much time between now and the next judging.” Piper shows me the list, and I’m relieved to see that it isn’t a ton of items.
A white crew neck sweater in my size and one in Phoebe’s size. Grey and green garment dye, along with darker gray yarn, gold spray paint, large sequins in multiple colors, lightweight rocks in assorted sizes, a sewing kit, and some type of adhesive that needs to be safe for clothing.
I’m not sure what she has planned, but Piper has already told me Phoebe doesn’t want my help whatsoever. Mr. Andrews has a small block party planned for tomorrow at noon, and of course the theme is ‘Ugly Sweater’s Are Better’. There’ll be a contest for everyone to join in, and then the separate contest for The Mistletoe Feud later tomorrow evening. I’ve been instructed to show up before the party begins so Phoebe can get me into my sweater and make whatever last minute tweaks she needs to.
I’d rather her be getting me out of my sweater, but my life obviously isn’t a Hallmark movie.
