Page 79 of A Pizza My Heart

“What? Did you just ask me about my poops?”

“What?”

“What?” I echo, lost in their fast-flowing banter but completely thrown for a loop by poop being brought up.

“Why are you asking about my number twos?”

“Singular, you goddamn freak. Numbertwo. You said you had two things.”

“Oh.” Wren’s face reddens. “Right. That.” She clears her throat, shifting on her bench. “Number two is…what do you mean you’re not surprised by it?”

I point to Wren. “That. I also want to know that answer.”

Winston looks to me, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes. “Do you though, bro?”

I meet his curious gaze and decide no, no I do not want to know the answer.

At least not in front of Wren.

“It’s because Drew has a big mouth,” he says, looking to his sister. “She wouldn’t shut up about her genius plan, so I already knew this whole fake dating thing was happening.” He shoots a thumb my way. “I didn’t think this idiot would bring you to your place of employment for a date, though. I hope she’s docking points for that, ass-wipe.”

I grin. “She is.”

“Freakin’ Drew. I’m gonna murder her,” Wren grumbles. “Whatever. We’re ready to order.”

“We are?”

Wren sighs. “Yes. I’m starving and you only have about ten minutes before hungry turns into hangry.”

“Fair enough. I’ll have the chicken fingers, please.”

My best friend shakes his head. “I’m so ashamed to call you my friend. And for you, dear sister of mine?”

“Don’t be weird, Winston. I’ll have a slice of the cheese stick pie.”

“Got it.”

His eyes find mine again. I see the questions forming, and I know we’re going to be having a conversation about this later tonight when I get home.

“I’ll put that order in now.”

He spins on his heel.

“Bring breadsticks! Extra!” Wren hollers to his back. He waves his hand, acknowledging her request, but she says, “He’s not bringing extra. I know him too well.”

“If anything, we’ll probably getlessnow.”

“Probably,” she pouts, then takes a drink of water.

We go quiet again, the silence stilted after how we last left things when it was only the two of us.

“I—”

“What—”

She laughs nervously, pink stealing up her cheeks. “Sorry, you first.”

“No, no. What were you going to say?” I insist.

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