I heave a breath. "This is shit I know, Doc. Tell me something I don't. By the way, you sound just like them."
“You’re delivering pizza now? How long have you been doing that?”
"A few weeks. Before that I was at this bistro, and I walked out of there. The chef just got on my nerves. He had an issue with everything I did."
“How’s your novel going?”
"It's okay. I just have so many other things going on. I don't get to focus much on it."
"I see." He makes a few more notes, and it annoys the shit out of me. Is any of this even useful? How can sitting in a stuffy room with a stranger, telling him things about me that I can say to myself, help me?
“Look, no offense, Doctor Willis, but I really feel this is a counterproductive use of my time.”
"Mister Briggs, I know you feel that way now. This is just the information gathering stage, and I promise you it'll start making sense as we go along."
“What will? You’ll sit there coming up with all sorts of theories about what's wrong with me. I’m pissed off that I’m even here.”
I get up and start to pace the room, wanting to smash something. I look at the clock above the door and realize I have at least fifteen minutes left.
“You know what? Fuck this. I can’t.”
I storm out of the room, and Doctor Willis calls after me. I feel like screaming, like slamming my fist into the wall. I decide to take the stairs instead of waiting for the lift. When I get to my car, I've got a ticket. "Just fucking great."
I notice the meter maid walking away, and I run after her. "Come on. I haven't even been parked there long enough to get a damn ticket," I growl.
She places her hand on her hip and glares me down. “Excuse me?”
The frown on her face tells me that I am treading on thin ice.
“I said, fuck off.” I wave her off and rip the ticket from my window, throwing it on the ground. I jump into my car and drive off.
* * *
I knowwhy she ordered a pizza again. I wasn't blind. I noticed the way she looked at me. Our dinner had been pleasant enough, but I haven't called her since. The conversation was easy. We spoke about her a lot, and she didn't try to push me about myself, which I liked.
I never wanted her to stop ordering, but I know I will mess this up like I mess up everything else in my life. I knock on the door and decide to wait this time. To be honest, I want to see her too. Maybe she'll ask me in, and I can grab a beer and forget this whole day happened. She opens the door, a shy smile on her face. I like this look on her.
“Hey,” I offer.
“Hi. I’m kind of surprised you’re here.”
“You asked for me. Your wish is my command,” I tease.
“Would you?" Her cheeks redden, and it's the cutest thing.
"I would. To be honest, I'm not even on duty today. I also owe you for not calling you after our dinner."
Her mouth forms an O, and I shrug. "Oh, come in."
She steps aside and lets me in. “This one’s on me.”
“You really don’t have to.”
"I do," I say, ending that conversation. I hand her the pizza, and she walks into her small kitchen, which is just off the living room. It’s a neat, open-plan area, everything in its place. I could not help but compare it to my own flat, which is in disarray all day, every day.
"Nice place," I comment, standing with my hands in my pockets.
“Thanks.” She smiles, returning with plates. “So, you wanna watch a movie or something while we eat?”
