She told us about the chess club, about a boy named Derek who was "not annoying anymore, just weird," and about her English teacher assigning a project she thought was stupid. I listened, surprised. Zoe usually gave me one-word answers and grunts. Maybe the injury had scared her more than she wanted to admit.
After Millie left and Zoe retreated to her room, I sat alone on the couch. The apartment hummed with refrigerator noise and the muffled bass of whatever she was listening to through her headphones.
A notification slid across my screen.
I told myself not to look.
Lasted about three seconds.
Shane
Random question. What's your take on pineapple on pizza?
I stared at the screen.
Another message appeared.
Shane
I need to know before this goes any further.
I laughed. Actually laughed at my phone, alone on my couch.
Maya
Define "any further?"
His response came immediately:
Shane
My paramedic follow-up protocol, obviously. I can't in good conscience provide aftercare to someone with questionable pizza opinions.
I grinned at my phone like an idiot.
Maya
Pineapple is acceptable in controlled circumstances.
Shane
That's a politician's answer.
Maya
I'm a teacher. We're trained in diplomacy.
Shane
Ah. So you're a yes but you don't want to admit it.
Maya
I'm a "depends on my mood and who's paying" and I stand by that.
Shane
Respect. A woman of nuance.
