Page 4 of The Neighbor Wager

Because with Lexi, we’reallthe planets, powerless to resist her orbit.

She embraces her father with a hug and a bashful smile. “Dad,” she says shyly, then releases him, and her smile widens. “You’re embarrassing me.”

“That’s my job, as your father.” He raises his glass again. “And it’s your older sister’s job, too.” He points to the back of the room. To the double doors that lead to the kitchen, not that you can tell, given the size of the audience.

Again, the room parts. People move toward the couch on the right or the shelves of classic literature on the left, to make room for a pastry chef holding a massive, three-tier cake.

And right behind the chef?

Lexi’s older sister, Deanna Huntington.

Even though she’s only two years older than Lexi, the same age as I am, Deanna is hopelessly out of place at the party.Why am I hereenergy radiates from her. It’s not just the heavy combat boots or the thick eyeliner or the zippers on her asymmetrical dress. It’s something about her.

Like me, Deanna doesn’t fit into this big, beautiful world. She’s not bubbly or blonde or bodacious.

And like me, Deanna adores her sister. The second she and Lexi make eye contact, all that awkward energy disappears. She’s happy to be here, celebrating her sister’s Sweet Sixteen.

Deanna follows the pastry chef to the table in the middle of the room. The moment he sets the pastel-pink cake down, Deanna raises her hand to get everyone’s attention and starts the birthday song.

Mr. Huntington chimes in first. By the third word, the rest of the crowd is singing along. Happy birthday to Lexi. Happy birthday to the most beautiful, charming girl in the world.

After the song, Mr. Huntington pats Lexi on the shoulder with pride. He looks around the room, taking in all the sentimental glory. I can imagine what he’s thinking, because it’s written all over his face. His little girls, growing up before his eyes.

With one big breath, Lexi blows out her candles. What’s her wish? What could the girl with everything—popularity, looks, success, money—possibly want?

She shoots smiles around the room, noting the many admirers, the perfect pink hue of her cake, the look of wonder on my face—

Wait…what?

Lexi Huntington’s beautiful blue eyes fix on me. For a brief moment, the stars align. The warmth of her stare encompasses me. My stomach flutters. My heart pounds so hard I feel it in my throat. My entire body buzzes with delight.

My hours studying the hue and shape of her eyes from afar failed to prepare me for the intensity of her stare.

Then, just as quickly, she smiles at someone else, a broad-shouldered guy in a leather jacket, and all the light flees the universe at once.

Maybe, in Grandma’s books, I could get together with someone like Lexi. But here, in Orange County? Why would the Homecoming Queen date the president of the Graphic Novel Club?

Right now, I’m not on her radar.

Right now, I’m no one. Just another face in a room full of faces.

I wait for her to pass slices of cake around the room, then I sneak to the backyard. It takes too long to move through the crowded space. There are too many people eager to order drinks, dance, wish Lexi a happy birthday.

My fingers curl around the paper in my hands. The card. Of course.

It is her birthday. I need to give her this. When I finally make it through the backyard, I move through the side yard, to the front of the house. A quiet spot.

Only the porch isn’t empty.

Lexi’s sister Deanna is standing at the railing, shifting her weight between her combat boots, sighing with exhaustion as she beams with pride. I hadn’t realized she slipped out of the house. I was so focused on Lexi and nothing and no one else in the room.

Deanna is pretty, in her own way. Not pretty like Lexi. Maybe pretty isn’t the right word, it’s more like… I don’t know. I’m terrible with words. All I know is what I see—

She notices me, her head turning toward me, and her expression fades to something I don’t like: pity.

She spots the envelope in my hand. It’s obvious what it is, who it’s for. “I can deliver that if you’d like,” she says.

“Will you?” I have no specific reason to doubt her. Only the vague sense she, like everyone else, disapproves of my feelings for Lexi.

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