Two little lines form in between Liza’s eyebrows. “What part of ‘it’s fine’ do you not comprehend?”
“Okay, okay, I get it. You’re not in the mood for pizza anymore. But they have subs, too.”
Liza’s given me a lot of lethal looks this year, but the one she’s shooting my way right now could lay me out permanently. “Fine,” I concede, realizing that she’s probably just as pissed about the money she lost as she is about the pizza that was swiped. It was probably only about ten or fifteen bucks, but I know she’s careful with every penny, so she’s not going to shell out more money when she can eat something at home. And dammit, that pisses me off even more. “At least let me find out who the culprit is. The freshmen seemed clueless, but that doesn’t rule them out. They?—”
“Don’t you freaking dare,” she says, ratcheting up her glare. “That would be mortifying. I’m still not over the time a lunch lady handed me a frozen pb&j because there wasn’t enough money in my account for a hot lunch. And that happened more than a decade ago. No freaking way are you sleuthing out the bandit and making a big deal about it.”
My brain takes a second to process what she’s saying. Can school cafeterias actually do that? I mean, what’s the harm in letting a kid get a hot meal? I have questions, but I’m keeping them to myself because she’s already worked up enough, and my job is to help her feel better, not worse. She keeps insisting she’s okay, but we both know that’s not true.
Liza tosses her empty can into the recycling bin. “It was probably a mistake, anyway. The last thing I need is for you tointerrogate half the team because everyone would be wondering why I had a meltdown over a twelve dollar pizza. I could order one if I really wanted to. But I don’t. I’m fine.”
If I took a shot of alcohol every time Liza insisted she was fine, I’d be stumbling around campus wasted off my ass every day. And then I’d probably puke. Yeah, let’s not play that game.
“You’re sure you’re good?” I ask, finishing my soda and launching the can into the recycling bin.
“Never better,” she lies.
“All right, then. I’m gonna hit the books for a bit. I’ve got another test in Portfolio Management. I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess. We’re meeting at the library at two, right?”
“Yep, see you then.”
Liza’s gone a second later. Part of me wants to go after her, the way a real boyfriend would, but she doesn’t seem to be in the mood for company, and anyway, I’ve got to get my ass downtown before Rinaldi’s closes.
Half an hour later, I stroll into the kitchen to find half my housemates gathered around the table playing some card game. Ollie’s been on a kick for us all to bond, and it looks like tonight is poker night. Although, knowing these guys, it could be a cutthroat game of Go, fish! I don’t pay them much attention as I riffle through the junk drawer for a marker. I find one and scrawl Liza’s name all over the damn box. Once her food is stored safely on the same shelf where she keeps her coffee creamer, I turn toward the guys. “Liza’s pizza is in here. Eat it and die. Are we clear?” I ask.
A few eyes go wide, but everyone nods. I probably should have kept my mouth shut, but I’m not worried that my warning has given away our secret. If anything, the guys probably figure I fucked up and I owe Liza a pizza to make up for whatever dumbass thing I did.
After that, I head upstairs to cram for my test. My fingers are itching to send her a text or even just ask if she’s doing any better, but I resist the temptation. I want her to see her surprise tomorrow when she’s brewing her daily cup of coffee. Besides, I didn’t run out to grab dinner for her so she could thank me. I just like doing nice things for her. I like knowing that freaky little pizza is going to make her smile, and it doesn’t matter if I’ll be there to see it. I don’t need the credit. I just need Liza to have a good day.
Because we’re friends. And that’s what friends do.
19
Blue
“What the hell are you doing here?” Liza asks, startling me so much that I nearly choke on my smoothie.
“I live here,” I remind her, clearing my throat and taking a breath.
Liza stands before me, hands on her hips and eyes pointed skyward. “I’m aware of your address, Blue. But you should be in class right now. You have Film Studies for the next…forthy-three minutes. If you hustle, you can probably?—”
“First of all,” unable to hold back the cocky grin that spreads across my face, “I can’t decide if it’s creepy or adorable that you know my schedule. I’m going with adorable. You like to keep tabs on me. That’s precious.”
She rolls her eyes yet again. Maybe she should get that checked out? I’ll keep that thought to myself for now, though, because I value my balls and I don’t want Liza suddenly deciding to chop them off. We are in the kitchen, so the threat level is substantial.
“I don’t keep tabs on you,” she assures me. “But a few hours ago, you were bitching about having to go to that class afterlunch, and since I can read a damn clock, I know that’s where you are supposed to be right now.”
Liza’s height is average at best, so I’ve got nearly a foot on her, and I’m sure I outweigh her by at least eighty pounds. But right now, I'm truly worried that she’s going to grab me by the back of my collar and haul my ass out the door. “Class was canceled,” I say in a rush to save my hide. “The professor sent a message saying he’s got the flu and he’ll see us all on Tuesday. I’ll be sure to notify you the next time there’s any slight change in my schedule.”
Liza nods, seemingly mollified, then fills up her water bottle at the sink before joining me at the table. “Well, I guess if the professor canceled class, you don’t technically have to be there,” she says on a dramatic sigh. “So, what are you going to do with your bonus hour?”
“You,” I answer honestly. “Check your phone. I sent you a text less than ten minutes ago asking if you were home and wanted to hang out. If you’re busy, it’s no big deal. But if you’re free, I figure we could work on that checklist I love so much.”
Liza looks around the empty kitchen and then at her watch. “Dutton and Leo usually get home around the same time you do, so I guess the coast is clear for a little while longer. Should we head back to my room?”
“We can,” I say, leaning back in my seat. “But isn’t there something on that list about having sex and almost getting caught? I haven’t actually committed the whole thing to memory yet, but I swear there’s something about getting down and dirty in a public place.”
Liza blushes, and I’ve come to expect that. When the topic of sex enters the conversation, her cheeks turn red. But that’s not what has my attention right now. That honor goes to her eyes and the way they light up like it’s the freaking Fourth of July.
