Page 3 of Roommate's Guide to Love

This shouldn’t feel as good as it does.Heshouldn’t feel as good as he does. Hookups aren’t supposed to make you feel some sort of way. They’re supposed to scratch an itch and then you go about your day.

And maybe that’s why I keep coming back. Keep going back on my word. Because no one makes me feel like Porter. No one knows my body like him. No one has ever made me scream or talk in tongues.

But he does. Every time.

Maybe he’s right? Why would I walk away from something that works? That’s just silly.

And I’m a lot of things—chaotic, wild, spontaneous. But I’m not silly.

“What do ya say, wanna stay?”

I grin as I push him back down on the bed, allowing me to straddle him.

“Depends,” I say. “What do you have in mind?”

He crooks his finger, bringing me closer.

“Sit on my face and let me show you.”

guide to love rule #52

Most things in life can be solved with a good book and a slice of pizza.

1

quinn

~~ One Month Later ~~

“Students,raise your water bottles high in the air.”

My sixth-grade class snickers as I clear my throat, doing my best to get their attention for the toast I’m about to make.

“I want to take this moment to congratulate you for completing your sixth-grade state testing.” The room cheers, but I signal for them to keep it down since we’re the only class in the hallway having a pizza party today. “Y’all worked and studied so hard! I know testing isn’t easy for a lot of you, and no matter what the scores say, I just want to show you how proud I am of all of you for doing your best. So I want you to enjoy this pizza and treats, let’s play some games, and say congratulations to each other for surviving state testing!”

The class cheers again, and this time I don’t bother telling them to keep it down. Let’s be real, the only person that’s going to be mad that there’s noise is the math teacher, because she’s always claiming to be behind on where she should be in her syllabus. One day of outside noise isn’t going to stop that.

Honestly, I don’t care if anyone complains. My kids just worked their asses off for the past however many months to prepare for a state test that’s going to generically tell them their aptitude and dictate their lives. Oh, and it will give the state something to hold over the school’s head. The least I can do is spend a few bucks and get them pizza, veggies, fruit, and cupcakes as a reward for their hard work.

I quickly take a look around the classroom. The air is different today. They’re eating, laughing, and mingling. They don’t look stressed. They don’t look worried. They look like kids. Which is exactly what I wanted for today.

That is, except for one student, who is standing and staring at the table of food like it’s going to come alive and eat her instead.

“Makayla? Everything okay?”

She shrugs but doesn’t make eye contact. “I miss pizza.”

That takes me by surprise. “I get that. I miss pizza every day, and that’s even when I bring it for lunch.”

My joke doesn’t work. In fact, it might make her more sad.

“Is everything okay? Can you have pizza? I didn’t see any allergies or dietary restrictions on your forms.”

She lets out the biggest sigh I’ve ever heard. “My mom says we can’t have it because of gluten. Even though we had it two weeks ago. Now, apparently, we’re going to die from it.”

Now, I’m all for people who stay away from gluten because of allergies, celiac, or other medical issues. Or even parents who have devoted time and energy into seeing if that kind of food and lifestyle is right for their family. Who am I to judge? I like to live my life by the phrase “not my monkeys, not my circus.”

However, I would bet my car and my cat Turtle that Makayla’s family fits into neither of those categories.

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