by Arthurs, Nia
“Let’s just drop it,” I said, leaning my head back.
Harley would never understand.
9
Pineapples On Pizza?
James
I knew jack about babies except that they were small, wrinkly and loud. Since I was going to be responsible for one, I figured I should do some research. After brushing my teeth, I parked myself in front of my laptop.
Thanks to Google, I discovered that babies were more than adorable bags of joy. They were expensive. Super expensive.
If I planned on taking care of one, I needed money. And preferably not my dad’s. I couldn’t risk my future son or daughter’s wellbeing on his favor.
I clicked through the table with the costs of a child listed out. The price tag kept running up. Why are diapers so freaking expensive? Panic crowded my chest and I had to turn away from the screen to catch my breath.
My future, my dreams, they were slipping down the drain.
It’s your own fault.
No one forced me to sleep with Marissa. And to be fair, she was probably even more freaked out than I was. It was her body that would change and grow. She’d face gossip and judgment that I wouldn’t.
I knew all that.
But somehow, I felt more pathetic.
My eyes had been opened to a world of responsibilities. I carried the weight of our makeshift family on my back. If the kid got screwed up, it would be on me.
“Why?” I pulled my hair and moaned. “Why didn’t you just run away and take a cold shower?”
Marissa’s pregnancy seemed like a harsh punishment for what I thought was a small mistake.
Is that what you’re gonna tell the kid? He was a mistake?
I let out a breath and squeezed my eyes shut. There was plenty of time to get used to the idea of being a father. Hopefully, when the baby was born I’d have a much better perspective.
My phone rang in the stillness.
It was Marissa.
I answered. “Hey, how are you feeling?”
“Same as I was yesterday.” She sounded happy and light. “You don’t have to ask every time we talk.”
I strode to my door and closed it before replying. “You’re pregnant. Of course I have to ask.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet.”
I rubbed the back of my neck, not sure what to say next.
“Do you want to come over?” Marissa asked. “My mom isn’t home.”
I hoped I was misunderstanding the invitation behind her invitation. Lust had gotten me into this mess, but my desire for Marissa had cooled long before she told me she was pregnant.
“How about we go out?”
“Oh? Like on a date?”
No way. “More like a friendly outing.”
“So a date.”
“Marissa…”
“Call it what you want. I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes.”
The dial tone sounded in my ear. I sighed and headed to my closet to get dressed. Somehow, I needed to make it clear that I wasn’t interested in a relationship.
Easier said than done. Marissa and I would be involved for life. I had to be careful here.
I finished getting ready and drove to her place. Marissa seemed joyful when I showed up at her door. She wore a yellow dress that flounced around her thighs. Gloss shimmered on her thin pink lips.
I studied her carefully. Mom said Rose had been glowing. I couldn’t tell if Marissa was. Honestly, she seemed as pale and delicate as usual.
“What?” she asked, noticing my perusal. “Do you see something different?”
“Uh…”
“I cut my hair. Just a few inches.” She tucked a lock behind her ear. “What do you think?”
“It’s… nice.”
She blushed.
When we climbed into the car, I turned to her. “Are you hungry?”
“Not for food,” she growled, reaching toward me.
I flattened myself against the car door.
Marissa sent me a funny look.
“I was thinking pizza,” I said nervously. “How about that?”
“Oh, okay.”
I started the car, glad when she put her hands in her lap and kept them there.
When we got to the pizza parlor, I escorted her inside and slid into a booth. She slipped in beside me.
I scooted as far away from her as I could. “What are you doing?”
“I want to be close to you.” She tilted her head so her blonde hair fell over one shoulder. “Maybe it’s the pregnancy but I’m really craving affection.”
Great. What could I say to that?
I grudgingly moved closer to her, staring straight ahead as she curled her hands around my arm.
It’s for the baby. It’s for the baby.
Marissa laughed. “James, you’re so stiff. Relax.”
“I am.” I glanced down. “Have you told your parents about the pregnancy yet?”
“No.”
“We should let them know before you start showing. I was thinking we could sit both our parents down at once. Get it done in one set.”
If my dad is in front of other people, he might contain himself.
“Ah, yeah. Sure. Let’s do that.” Marissa grabbed the pizza menu. “I don’t know why but I’m suddenly starving. What’s good here?”
“It depends. What do you like on your pizza?”
She tilted her head in thought. Her nose scrunched. “Everything but pineapples.”
“What do you have against pineapples?”
“Don’t tell me you’re one of those demented people that put fruit on pizza.”
“Hey, you’re the one who’s missing out. Pineapples elevate the taste.”
Marissa burst out laughing. “You’re so wrong.”
I chuckled. This was the first friendly conversation we’d had. Lately, it was all about the pregnancy. And before then, well, we were too busy to talk.
Still smiling, I glanced up and looked for a waiter. My eyes collided with Monique. She wore a black shirt and jeans that were covered by a black apron. Wait, did she work here?
My pulse quickened.
Monique stiffened and turned away. As she took one step toward the kitchen, a man burst through the small doors between the counter and started pointing in her face. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but it was easy to see that he was scolding her.
A moment later, Monique spun and cantered toward our table. Her face was blank. It was impossible to tell what she was thinking.
She stopped in front of us and pulled out a pen. “Hi. Can I get your order?”
She’s acting like we don’t know each other. Should I play along or not?
Before I could decide, Marissa leaned over. “Hey, I recognize you. You’re the girl who wanted to interview James’s band.”
“Yeah, that’s me.” Monique tapped her pen on the notebook. “You must be James’s girlfriend.”
“We’re not—”
Marissa tossed her hair back. “Do you work here?”
With a deadpan look, Monique gestured to the logo on her apron. “Yeah. I’m new.”
“Then maybe you can help us. James thinks that pineapples should be on pizza.” She laughed. “I think he’s sorely mistaken. What do you say?”
“We have a half-and-half option. We can put pineapples on one side and leave the other plain. You can both get what you want.”
“How wonderful!”
I stared at Monique’s face. She hadn’t looked at me once since coming over.
“We’ll have that,” Marissa said.
Monique scribbled it down. “And to drink?”
Marissa rattled out her order and then tapped me on the shoulder. “James?”
“Huh?”
“She’s asking what you’ll have to drink.”
“Oh.” My gaze skittered between Monique and the menu. The words blurred together. “Uh, water.”
Monique jotted it down and then raised her gaze to the window above my head. “Your
pizza will be right out. I’ll be back with the drinks.”
She trotted off, leaving me feeling cold and confused.
“Do you know her?” Marissa asked.
I tore my gaze away from Monique and found her green eyes. “Sort of. Like you said, she did an interview with us.”
“She seems nice.”
“Yeah.”
The conversation grew stagnant. I shifted uncomfortably and kept staring at the kitchen until Monique emerged. This time, she had our drinks on a tray. Once again, she ignored me as she bent over to place the glass cups on the table.
I could feel Marissa observing me. I also knew that I was being rather obvious with my interest, but I couldn’t help it. The girl that gently encouraged me during tutoring and smiled so brightly when I got a question right couldn’t be this frigid.
“I’ll be right back with your pizza,” Monique said. Like a robot, she spun stiffly and marched away.
My throat bobbed. I rose, intending to go after her.
“Ah!”
Marissa’s little squeal shocked me out of my trance. I dropped into my seat and turned to her. She had a hand around her stomach. Anxiety unfurled within me. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. It was just a small stomach cramp.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? Should we take you to the hospital?”
“James, it’s okay. Really.” She smiled. “I think I’m just hungry.”
“I’ll ask them to bring a snack while we wait for the pizza.”
She held my arm so I couldn’t leave. “Stay with me.”
“Okay.”
Marissa rested her head on my shoulder. “This feels nice.”
I said nothing because that wasn’t the case on my end. Her head was hard and heavy.
“You know,” Marissa whispered, “the first time I saw you I had this crazy feeling that you were different.”
“Different?”
“My parents got divorced when I was ten. It was hard watching my mom date a bunch of jerks while she searched for love. I never wanted to be like her, but… I made the same mistakes.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
Marissa lifted her head and pinned me with a knowing look. “My reputation preceded me. Don’t act like you never heard the gossip.”
I did hear a thing or two.
“When you kept rejecting me, I just knew that you were worth getting to know. That first night we made love, I almost cried.”
I squirmed, uncomfortable with the direction this was going.
“It may be the wrong time and the wrong place, but I don’t regret getting pregnant. I think we’re on the cusps of something special and I’m so happy I’m sharing this with you.”
I glanced away. Guilt crept over my back and perched on my shoulder. This was so wrong. No matter the consequences, I couldn’t let Marissa continue to think there was a chance.
“I’m sorry. I don’t feel the same way.”
Her jaw dropped. “W-what?”
“I’m here because of the baby. I promised you I’d take responsibility for it and I’ll keep my word. But there is no hope for you and me.”
Her eyes flickered down, but not before I saw hurt flashing in them. I felt like scum, but it was more callous of me to be dishonest.
“It’s okay,” she said brightly. “You’ve got plenty of time to change your mind.”
Don’t be so sure.
I kept quiet. If that was how Marissa wanted to cope with the truth then I would let her. Time would hammer in my point eventually.
Just then, Monique darted out of the kitchen to attend to another table. My fingers itched to text her, greet her, see her smile, but I held back. Chasing another woman in front of Marissa didn’t feel right.
So, when Monique brought our pizzas and spun away, I didn’t call for her.
When she returned to clean up, I didn’t acknowledge her.
When she brought the bill, I accepted it without comment.
“The pizza was good,” Marissa said, smacking her stomach. “I’m so full.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“Could you excuse me? I need to use the bathroom.”
As she walked away, I opened the bill and swiped the mints inside. After leaving a generous tip, I closed the case. Then I pried it open again and stared at the little note that asked for customer opinions. I grinned and scribbled something down, hurrying before Marissa came back.
When she returned, I was already standing at the door, watching Monique collect the bill. When she opened it and saw the note, she glanced around.
Her eyes found mine.
“Ready to go?” Marissa asked.
I tore my gaze away from Monique and opened the door for Marissa. “Yeah. Let’s head out.”
10
Should I Fall
Monique
Meet me after your shift.
I read James’s note. My heart pounded without my consent. My eyes, equally rebellious, searched the room on the flimsy hope that he was still in the shop.
There, by the door.
James wore a black shirt tucked into blue jeans. His hair was deliciously mussed. The way he leaned against the wall was the perfect shot for a magazine ad.
Then he looked up. At me.
Our gazes connected.
My pulse spiked.
He smirked, confident and dangerous. But it didn’t last. Because Marissa walked up to him. And then he wasn’t smiling at me anymore. He was smiling at her.
James opened the door gallantly and, together, he and his girlfriend strolled out.
I crumpled the note in my fist and shoved it into my apron pocket. If I wasn’t in the middle of a busy pizza parlor, I’d scream at the ceiling and rail against the stupidity of my heart.
Not only was James not interested in me. He was taken.
I swiped the empty cups and crumpled napkins into my tray, pretending that I wasn’t cleaning up after James’s date. If I let that thought linger, I’d probably cry.
What was wrong with me?
I didn’t like James, did I?
Okay, maybe a little.
So what if I did? I wasn’t too far-gone yet. As long as I kept my boundaries and strengthened my resolve, I could beat these burgeoning feelings just like I beat the flu when it tried to creep up on me.
I moved to return the dirty dishes to the kitchen, but stopped when I found a fellow waitress eyeballing me hard.
I looked away.
She didn’t.
What is her problem?
From our introduction earlier, I remembered that her name was Angie. She was tall and slim with dark brown skin, long braids and a glint in her eye that screamed of mischief. She’d seemed familiar to me. She also seemed like trouble so I pretended I didn’t recognize her.
I cleared my throat. “Can I help you?”
“You knew that guy?”
“What guy?”
“The one you were just drooling over.”
“He goes to my school,” I said, trying to brush her off as I entered the kitchen. If the manager found us chatting, he’d assume we were slacking off and then he would yell at me again. I was trying to avoid being on the other end of his spit show.
“You’re kidding. He goes to my school too.” She smirked. “Wait, you attend Pine Hill High?”
“Yup.”
“So do I!”
“Oh, that’s… great.”
She must have heard my lack of enthusiasm but she didn’t acknowledge it. “James Sawyer, huh? You chose a tough one, my friend.”
I’m not your friend. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Angie leaned in as I thrust the pizza tray near the sinks. “Sure you do.”
I walked ahead of her.
She caught up to me. “He and his girl were beautiful, weren’t they? Even if you hate them, a part of you is drawn to the view. Humans are wired to admire pleasant things. That’s why attractive people can get away wit
h murder.”
“Okay…”
Angie followed me to the cash register. “How do you know Sawyer?”
“I don’t.” I handed the money over to the cashier.
“Bull,” Angie whispered in my ear.
I jumped away.
She grinned. “Sorry. I’m curious about unrequited love. It fascinates me.”
“Look,” I turned to her, annoyed now, “I can’t help you. All I’m here to do is work in peace. I don’t want friends and I don’t want trouble.”
“Sorry.” Angie threw her hands up and backed away.
I rolled my eyes and stalked past her.
Thankfully, she left me alone and I finished my shift without any more of her philosophical musings.
A few hours later, I untied my apron and left it on the shelf in the locker room. Angie was there, smoking a cigarette.
I coughed and brushed away the fumes. “You know you’re not supposed to smoke in here.”
“I thought that was more of a suggestion than a rule.”
I glared at her. Something told me to just leave it be, but I couldn’t shut my mouth. “That’s really bad for your health.”
She laughed and dropped her arm, blowing a waft of smoke toward me. “Thanks for your concern, but I wouldn’t mind dying as quickly as possible.”
“Why do you want to die?”
She arched an eyebrow. I could tell that she hadn’t expected me to follow up on her comment. “Sorry,” she said. “I only go that deep with my friends.”
“Fine.” I gripped my purse and turned away.
“See yah, Heathcliff!”
I stiffened. Was she talking to me?
“My name is Monique.”
“I know, but you remind me of Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights. He loved someone he could never have too.”
I scoffed. She was saying that to annoy me and it was working.
I turned around to leave and then spun back. “You know Catherine loved Heathcliff. It wasn’t unrequited. They just couldn’t get married.”
Angie puffed her cigarette in response.
I left her there and headed outside. Once the back door closed behind me, I lingered on the stoop. James’s note pranced into my mind.
