Note Thirty-Nine
Lg. Pepperoni $10.99
Lg. Vegetarian (mushrooms, onions, olives, green bell peppers, tomatoes) $11.99
Lg. Meat Lover's (pepperoni, Italian sausage, bacon) $12.99
Lg. Cheese $9.99
Lg. Hawaiian $10.99
Lg. Chicken Fresco (spinach, grilled chicken, sun dried tomatoes) $11.99
CREATE YOUR OWN PIZZA (up to three toppings) $11.99
"So, what kind of pizza do you like?" Tucker asked me, sitting down on the stool next to me. I was currently dipping the brownie cake pops in the red icing, the little balls later to be representing the carbon molecules of glucose.
"Anything and everything." I replied, concentrating on the dripping sugar. Sam had given me a general summary of Tucker's family life: an overbearing older sister, two distant parents that liked to travel all over the world on countless adventures, and a dead cousin who had been more like a brother. Unsure of how to breach the topic, I had tried to focus in finishing our bio project.
"Do you want to go eat out? I think we don't have much room left on the kitchen counter to have pizza without destroying some of the pops."
I laughed. "It's not like you would mind. You'd just eat the messed up brownies."
Tucker shrugged bashfully. "So do you want to?"
"Sure. Let me just finish this batch."
"Do you mind if I use your phone to call? My phone has a bad reputation with Old Chicago; my friends once prank called them, and let's just say that I owed the restaurant $100 before the night was over."
I gestured to my phone. "Sure, it's over there on the counter."
I went back to dipping the cake pops as Tucker looked up the number, my mind on other things. I was buzzing with curiosity about the Creepy Stalker and what he/she wanted to tell me. Hopefully, they'd tell me soon.
YOU ARE READING
The Bathroom Stall
Short StoryA short story of an abandoned bathroom stall door giving desperate, heartbroken girls relationship advice, hot guys incorrectly trying to woo hearts, a stupid dare in action, and irrationality ruling the minds of every character.
