𝗣𝗶𝗻𝗲-𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘀

ᴘɪɴᴇ-ʜᴇᴀʀᴛꜱ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ

-Luka, 18-

Will clicked down on the stopwatch in his hand, and glanced over to me from the spectators stand with a bored look he wasn't bothering to disguise. 

"1 minute 15." He called out, and then went back to reading his book.

I scuffed my shoe on the red track. 5 seconds longer then last time. I seemed to be progressing backwards in time for the race on Sunday, which was just brilliant. Yes, I could technically put full force into my running, but even 1 minute 15 for getting around our uni's massive track was just shy of a world record. When the race actually happened, I was aiming for a neat 2 minutes 15: a guaranteed win without looking like I was on crack or something. But despite being able to do that with ease, getting worse at my normal pace wasn't a good omen. 

"I'm taking a rest break." I yelled. "Wanna go to Laurita's pizzeria?"

I definitely wasn't pretending my poor timing was due to hunger or anything, but Will wasn't going to call me out for it, especially if it gave him a break from stopwatch duty. And both of us could polish off an entire buffet single-handedly and still have room for more, so frequent snacking was the norm for us. Even if my track coach called me a pig (from jealousy, I assume, that I never gained much weight from the habit) and Will's professor kept trying to send him to the nurses office for some hypothetical binge eating issue.

After swinging by the changing rooms to grab my hoodie, we headed straight to the local pizza place.

"Hello boys." The lovely woman at the counter beamed her greeting. "Same as usual?"

"Yes, please." I smiled back. 

Will went and found us the quietest table he could, which was quite hard, as most of the other students at our uni frequented the place on their breaks too. Mrs Laurita sent the order to the kitchen and we dabbled in small talk. I reckoned she made more of an effort with me and Will simply because we spent such a small fortune at her business. But we had money to burn: I was being sponsored to eventually end up on the national track team, so I not only was having my school fees and accommodation covered, but they were also giving a generous monthly wage in return for me doing... Literally nothing.

Will liked to spend his own money where he could, but my money was free, and his was from hours of working at a nearby restaurant, so I always paid for his pizza. And everything else, when he allowed me to, but he wasn't a fan of the 'charity'.

"You still studying hard in your lessons though, yes?" Mrs Laurita asked after I brought up the Sunday race.

"Mhm. I try not to let track take over too much of my life. The national team doesn't want me to fall behind on grades either, so it's for the best. Even if I much prefer running to math." I sighed.

"Good, good." She nodded.

Our pizzas were shoved through the kitchen hatch, and I took them straight off the counter, despite Mrs Laurita's attempts to get one of her surly teenage relatives to serve them up at our table for me. I paid quickly, and went and joined Will at our table. His head was already back in his book again, something to do with Greek or whatever, but he put it away when he smelled the pizza.

"Every time I see it, I'm hit with a fresh wave of horror." I gestured to his plate as I bit into my pepperoni pizza (stuffed crust, of course).

"What?" He asked me, as if there was nothing wrong with his pineapple, pepper, olives and sweetcorn combination. 

"Fruit on a pizza!"

He scowled.

"Do you know what a tomato is, Luca?"