Page 62 of Romantic

Pepper opens the screen door before I’m halfway up the steps.

“Annie! Is that a real cast? I’m so jealous. I wish I could break my leg. Can I sign it?”

“Yes, of course.” I hobble in, smiling as she holds the door open. Elinor gets up from the couch, where it appears she and Pepper were playing a game. I scan the room; no sign of Brandon.

“My dad’s sleeping.” Pepper offers. I guess I wasn’t too subtle as I searched the room.

“I sent him to bed, despite much protesting,” explains Elinor as she helps me ease onto the couch. “He said he promised Mom he’d make dinner, but Edward offered to take care of it. Frankly, Brandon looked exhausted.”

“He should be. I have no idea how he carried me down the mountain. It had to be nearly five miles.”

“Yes, and at most he only got a few hours’ sleep last night.”

“I’m glad he’s getting some rest.” I laugh inwardly at myself for being anxious for his text. I can always count on Brandon. I should never have doubted that. “Pepper, you probably already know this, but your dad is a really good guy.”

“I know! He’s a thousand times better than Jack.”

“A million times better,” I say, laughing a little too enthusiastically.

“Are you still sad about Jack?” she asks, sitting down gingerly beside me. “Dad said he broke your heart.”

I think for a minute before answering. Am I still sad about Jack? Thinking about him just makes me feel icky—I wish I’d never met him. So much for full moons and signs from the universe. “No, I don’t think he broke my heart. I think . . . for being such a romantic, I’m kind of an idiot when it comes to love.”

“So’s my dad,” Pepper says matter-of-factly. “That’s why I had to help him out.”

“Seems to me he’s an expert at loving you.”

“That’s because I’m easy to love.”

“That’s the truth.” I give her a quick side hug. “Want to be the first to sign my cast?”

“Yes!” Pepper runs to the rolltop writing desk where Elinor keeps her art supplies. She returns with a handful of markers.

“You look ready to paint a whole mural.”

“This cast needs some flowers.”

A girl after my own heart. “That’s exactly what it needs.”

Pepper signs her name, surrounding it with flowers. It’s really cute. I wonder what Brandon will sign. I resist the urge to check my phone to see if he has replied to my text. I have my ringer on; there’s no way I could miss it. I’m rewarded just a few minutes later when my phone rings, and it’s Brandon.

“Hey!” His voice is scratchy and deep like he just woke up. “I saw you texted—sorry about your ankle.”

“It’s all good. It would have been much worse if I had dragged myself down the mountain. I’m not sure I would have made it.”

Brandon makes a noncommittal grunt. We’ve never talked on the phone before, and this is the moment I realize he might not be the best at phone conversations. But I don’t care—he called me back. His decision to call instead of text feels significant.

“Is that my dad on the phone?” Pepper asks. I nod.

“Tell him dinner is in thirty minutes,” says Elinor. As soon as I relay that message, there’s movement upstairs. It sounds like Brandon is getting out of bed. “I’ll shower first, then I’ll be right down.”

“Great! See you then.”

Never in the history of the world has thirty minutes stretched so slowly. Tonight, Brandon and I are going to talk—really talk. About the kiss . . . about what idiots we’ve been . . . about everything. I’m not sure how we are going to do that in a house full of people, but that’s my plan.

Edward emerges from the kitchen to let us know dinner is ready, but first he takes a minute to sign my cast as “The Boy”—a fun reference to the nickname Elinor and I gave him when we first met him as kids, many summers ago.

My mom has been teaching Edward to cook since he moved to Norland Park. This helps in so many ways. It gives my mom a chance to take a day off, and it also means we have one more adult around who can help with dinner during the busy summer season. Tonight he’s making salmon salad, which is one of my favorites. If Elinor broke up with him, I would throw a fit. Though I don’t foresee that happening—quite the opposite. I expect to hear that they’re engaged any day now.