Page 66 of Ancient History

“Boring. I went to a place that billed itself as New York pizza. It was not. You couldn’t do this with the pizza.” The crust cracked as I folded my slice in half, music to my ears. “Pizza was meant to be folded.”

True pizza was a fat, greasy triangle. Not squares or rectangles. I dug into my pizza, and it tasted even better than I remembered. Everything here was better than I remembered, including the guy across from me.

“I once saw a guy eating his pizza with a fork and knife. I wanted to call the police.” Amos smiled with a mouth full of pizza, his cheeks bunched up and fucking adorable.

I wanted to reach across this table and pull him into a kiss. My phone buzzed, snapping me away from my hornier impulses. This wasn’t a date. This was pizza.

“What?” Amos asked, probably because he saw me rolling my eyes at the text.

I showed him the pic Pop sent of his empty pill slot for the day.

“He doesn’t like taking his pills. Thinks he can use willpower and grit to recover.”

“How is he doing?” His voice filled with concern, which warmed my heart. I’d wished they'd gotten to know each other. Pop and Amos would’ve gotten along great, had I not kept him this big secret.

“Healthwise, he’s improving. His leg is healing. He hasn’t had any more dizzy spells. The last checkup went well. But he’s bullheaded. He thinks he’s healthy and just had a slip.”

“It sounded like a pretty bad fall.”

“It might’ve been a blood clot or a heart thing. The doctors weren’t totally sure, so they gave him medication to handle all of it. He’s recovering but…”

“He almost didn’t.”

“He wants to act like it didn’t happen, but it did, and it was fucking scary.” The terror of getting that phone call came rushing back me. Whenever I got a call from an unknown number, my blood went cold. Would it be the hospital again?

“Y’know, Pop could fix anything. If he was in the parking lot, he probably could’ve fixed my car. He could do anything. He was the strongest guy I knew.” I cleared my throat. “He is the strongest I know.”

Memories of Pop flitted through my mind. Roughhousing and sitting on his shoulders and being his assistant when he was fixing things around the house. These montages in my head made it seem like he was on death’s door. Every adult reached a point when they realized their parents were going to die. Maybe not right away, but someday. They were no longer invincible. They were mortal.

He was still here. I wouldn’t let him go yet.

The next thing I knew, Amos’s hand was on top of mine, stroking me with his thumb. His soothing touch calmed down my heart. I gazed into his warm, entrancing eyes, full of all the comfort in the world.

“He’s going to get better,” Amos said with full conviction. “Thanks to you.”

I beamed at him, letting myself believe it.

“Stay on him with the pills. Maybe mash them into a banana.”

His thumb continued to stroke mine. We continued to stare at each other. I got that gut feeling again that if I didn’t break away, I would try and kiss him.

“Hey, do you wanna play?” I got up and strolled to the arcade game in the corner. Pop said it’d once been a pay phone booth. “I bet I can still kick your ass.”

Amos coughed up quarters.

We each took a steering wheel. I gave him anit’s onnod, which he reciprocated. And then we were off to the races. I focused on my screen, racing down the track, bending around curves. Amos was on my tail.

As I left him in the dust, he bumped me in real life, his hip hitting mine.

“Technical foul,” I said.

“There’s no technical foul in this game.” He bumped his hip against me again.

I bit back the surge of lust when our bodies connected. Two could play at this game. I gave him a shove.

“That’s cheating!” he said through laughter, his eyes never leaving the screen.

“It’s payback.”

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