Page 11 of When Fate Breaks
“Annie, hon, you and Blake grab us those two tables, will you?” Mom says, motioning to the open tables closest to the register. “You want the usual?”
I nod at her, smiling, and make my way over to where Blake is already sitting down.
Everyone else joins us in no time, the parents crowded at the first table and me, Blake, and a once again sleeping Steph, with half a piece of pizza still hanging from her mouth, sat at the other table.
Mom passes my plate of pizza down to me and, as I go to take a bite, I see Blake staring at me out of the corner of my eye.
“What?” I ask him.
His face looks like he’s in pain. “Are you serious?”
I raise my eyebrows, looking around. “What are you talking about?”
“Your pizza,” he says, flicking his eyes towards it. “Pineapple?Really?”
“What’s wrong with it?” I question. “It’s my favorite.”
Blake covers his mouth. “That’s so wrong.”
“Oh, come on,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Have you ever even tried it?”
“Nope. And I don’t need to. It’s not right.”
An idea clicks into my head. “Well,” I say, tearing my slice down the middle, “here you go.” I drop the half-slice onto his paper plate.
Blake glances from the pizza back to me. “I don’t want it–”
“C’mon, Blake,” I say, a smile forming. “Try something new.”
His eyes widen. “No. Not that. It’s too gross.”
“So, are you saying you don’t want it? That eating that slice of pineapple pizza wouldn’t bring you any happiness?”
“Exactly,” Blake says, pushing it away.
I stick my hand out, stopping the plate in its path.
“Well, then,” I say, sliding it back to him, “eating it would be doing somethingselfless, wouldn’t it?”
Blake’s jaw drops. “I–”
“Nevermind,” I interrupt him, looking away.
“What? Why?” Blake asks, confused.
“You wouldn’t do it anyway.”
“I don’t want it.”
“Actually, youcouldn’tdo it.”
“Why?” Blake asks, brows pinched.
“Because you’re a scaredy cat.”
“I am not!” Blake retorts.
“Well, Blake,” I say, pushing the plate even closer to him and then resting my chin in both of my hands. “Prove me wrong.”
