“What just happened?”Noah asks, clearly appalled at the entire experience.
“Thatis what you get when you cheat on Dominos.”
He laughs harder, and I eye the top slice of pizza. My stomach rolls with hunger but the waxy cheese and solidified grease are less than appetizing.
“You’re not going to eat that are you?”
I shrug. “I’ve definitely had worse and survived.”
“Need I remind you of the food poisoning you had the night we met?”
I glare at him for bringing up what we’ve both agreed to never talk about before scouring the roadside for anything else. A convenience store flashes an open sign across the highway. Dumping the plates in a rogue trash can, I offer my hand.
“Fine. Come on.”
He takes it, closing his fingers around mine and I tug him towards the highway, doing my best to ignore the butterflies exploding in my stomach.
“We can’t cross here!”
“Don’t tell me you’ve never jay-walked,” I tease, practically yelling over the sound of cars flying past. Noah squeezes my hand and tugs me back a step, his concern setting my nerves on fire. Again.
“I’ve jay-walked, but this is a highway.”
“Yeah, and the only edible food for miles is on the other side of it.”
“We can call Lance to come get us.”
“And do what? The club is definitely closed now and I don’t know about you, but if that’s the best pizza in town, I’m worried about the other offerings.”
Noah chews on his lower lip—an action I’ve thought about doing myself.
“Fine,” he relents.
I keep my eyes trained on a break in traffic and hope no one merges into it. Flashing a smile at Noah, who stands looking terrified, I nudge his arm with my elbow.
“You ready?”
He shrugs and squeezes my hand tighter. My stomach rolls with giddy nerves and as the dark sedan passes, we take off across the four lane highway. We run at full speed, our feet pattering against the pavement. Heat from the asphalt radiates up from the thin bottom of my sandals and I squeal as we finally break into the parking lot. Dropping Noah’s hand, I bend over, trying to catch my breath.
“See,” I say, panting and motioning to the gas station.
“I can’t imagine this is any better than the pizza place.”
I frown. “You stay out here and call Lance to come get us. I’ll take care of the food.”
Ten minutes later, I’m pushing back out into the night air with an arm full of chips, candy, and other various convenience store delicacies. Lance pulls up and Noah opens the back door for me.
“Would you like a ho-ho, Lance?”
His eyes crinkle in the rearview mirror. “That’s quite alright, Ms. Wilde.”
“Suit yourself,” I say, falling back against the leather seats. Noah slides in next to me and shakes his head at the ridiculous amount of junk food filling the space between us.
I rip open a bag of snack mix and have to stop myself from pouring it directly in my mouth. “Oh-muh-god,” I say through a mouthful of crunchy, salt crusted crackers. Noah picks up a bag of Doritos and opens them.
“I haven’t had Doritos in”—he pauses, examining one of the chips—“Years.”
“That is the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”
