Year Four/Week Six– Present
After I’d made my rounds, saying hello to all of Mel’s friends and prospective buyers, I took Blu to the pizza parlour around the block.
“You’re hungry,” I stated, rather than questioned. “You’ve got to be.”
Truthfully, it was me who was hungry. Mel was such a bubbly person, so outgoing and carefree. Her friends were a reflection of her image – equally as vivacious and full of life.
Mine didn’t belong in a scene like that.
Mine were just as hollow and empty as I was.
“You’re assuming I’m hungry,” Blu said, wrapping her jacket around her like a scarf.
“What’s underneath that?”
“Underneath what?”
I pinched her elbow, rubbing the thin fabric between my fingers. “You haven’t taken it off all night.”
If the pizza parlour lights weren’t glowing neon red, I could’ve sworn her cheeks were as cherry as they were. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked.
“It is cold, I get it.” It wasn’t really, but I was wearing a long sleeve and pants. The lie was passable.
I held open the door, allowing her to walk in ahead of me. The scent of her perfume trailed after her, stopping me in my tracks.
“What perfume is that?”
She turned to look at me, her brown eyes wide. “Uh, I don’t think you’d know it.”
“Try me.”
“It’s Her by Burberry.” She stared at me. I stared at her. “Why?” she asked.
Classic. Fucking classic.
Riley wore the same perfume.
I waved at the pizza guy by the cash, pulling open my wallet.
“What can I get you, sir?”
Blu stepped behind me, scanning the rows of pizza displays but didn’t say anything.
“What do you want?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You good with pepperoni?”
“I’m not hungry.”
I turned back to the pizza guy. “Two pepperoni slices, please.”
He punched it into the cash and gave me the total. Honestly, I didn’t even see it, just tapped my card and found Blu sitting at the stools.
She seemed… off. Sad? Shy, almost? Not like I had much experience being around Blu, but this was definitely noticeable.
“Everything okay?”
“Why’d you ask about my perfume?” she questioned, whipping around to face me. “Is it bad? Is it too much?”
Whoa, whoa, whoa. “Blu, no,” I let out a strained laugh. “No, not at all. Just a familiar scent.”
At this, her face softened, her eyes lightened and she relaxed into the stool. “Oh, okay. It’s like, one of my worst fears.”
“To smell bad?”
“Well, yeah. Isn’t that what attracts people? Scent?”
“And who might you want to attract, Blu?”
Her cheeks reddened. I didn’t need a damn neon light blocking my way to see that.
I smirked, leaving her there, wanting me, and fetched the pizza.
While I was waiting, two girls walked in, definitely drunk, hand-in-hand. They were pretty, wearing tight dresses and lace-up heels.
They smiled at me, I smiled at them, my eyes lingering longer on the taller one.
“Order up,” the pizza guy announced, handing over two white paper plates.
“Thanks man.” As I turned around, I almost made a head-on collision with the tall blonde who positioned herself right behind me.
“Sorry,” she purred, throwing her hands up. “You’re so hot, I needed to say something.”
If I wasn’t here with Blu, maybe I would’ve returned the compliment. Maybe I would’ve shared my pizza slice with her. But I had company, and I wasn’t that big of an asshole.
“I appreciate it. Stay safe,” was all I said before returning to the stools and handing Blu her slice.
“You’re so hot,” she mocked, twirling the plate with her pointer.
I laughed. “You heard that?”
“She was loud enough.”
“Hm.” I took a bite of my pizza, grimacing at the grease that swiped my teeth before wiping my mouth with a napkin. “Good flavour.”
“Before now, I didn’t think you even ate pizza.”
My eyebrows scrunched as I took another bite. “Seriously? Why?”
She shrugged, staring at her slice like it was a fucking anaconda. “You’ve got a good body. Usually fit people shy away from this shit.”
Huh. I guess it was a compliment. She didn’t know how hard I worked for this, though. “I eat a lot. Just can’t put on weight.”
“Must be nice.”
That line.
That one line.
Holy fuck, how could I have been so blind?
“Blu,” I chewed slowly, pushing her pizza towards her. “What have you eaten today?”
She sat erect, pulling her coat tightly again. I’d noticed one of her nails was missing. She tried to bury it in her palm.
“I ate,” she replied.
“Yeah? What?”
“I had a salad earlier.”
“What kind?”
“What does it matter?” Her tone was clipped. She wanted me to drop it.
Fat chance. I knew an eating disorder when I saw one.
“Have one bite and I’ll stop pestering you.”
In that moment, I realized how glued her eyes were to the slice of pizza. Did I make this worse? Was I making this worse?
I didn’t know what to do. I’d been in this situation before. Being the skinny, lanky twig in high school, seeing all my friends buff and padded with stories they wouldn’t be embarrassed to tell in front of a crowd of people. It made them manly. It made me spineless.
My hand fell to her bobbing knee. She was anxious.
Her eyes flitted from the pizza to my touch; her leg stopped shaking.
She swallowed. “One bite?”
I squeezed a little tighter, gently rubbing my thumb against her skin. “One bite, darling.”
She lifted the crust to her mouth, taking a generous bite of meat and cheese, then turned her face from mine.
Embarrassment. I’ve felt it one too many times.
My fingers cupped her chin, turning her to face me. There was a sting in her eyes, an emotion she was holding back.
“I’m sorry, Jace.” She dropped her head low, her jaw tight in the cup of my hand. “You must think I’m some kind of freak.”
A freak.
Was that what I thought I was? When I assumed people thought that of me? I was consumed by this feeling for so long. I saw it now.
She was my match. An equal. A broken piece of myself, a mirrored shard of glass.
I didn’t remove myself from her touch. Not once. “Quite the opposite, actually,” my gaze softened, “You and I have a lot more in common than I thought.”
