The Pointless Adventures Of Jace And Simon (COMPLETE)

Original Pizza Guy Love

DISCLAIMER:THIS TIME I LITERALLY OWN NOTHING

A/N:ALL CREDIT GOES TO rippingbutterflywings

Here's the link to the original one,
https://m.fanfiction.net/s/10817427/1/Jace-From-Domino-s

I'm awkward by nature.

But I'm even more awkward when I'm on the phone.

Of course, my best friend knows this. Both of them do, actually. Which is why they hand me the phone and tell me it's my turn to order the pizza.

I despise them.

I call Domino's and wait as the phone rings twice before a male voice answers. "This is Domino's Pizza. How may I help you?"

"Hi. Yeah, I'd like to order some pizza." I try to block the sound of my best friends snickering, but it's sort of impossible.

"Delivery or carry-out?"

"Delivery."

"What's the address?"

Isabelle and Simon's snickers turn into full-blown laughter as I stumble through my address. I glare at them as I read the order they wrote down for me.

"I'd like two medium pizzas. One would be pepperoni, and the other chicken and bacon."

"Would you like breadsticks and soda?"

I flip my friends off and leave the room. Would it kill them to be quiet? "Yes, please." I'm fidgeting, not really thinking by this point. It's Friday, and school was hell, and I'm exhausted.

He gives me the total and says, "Your pizzas should be there in approximately half an hour."

"Thanks." And then, for some unknown reason I can't quite fathom, I blurt out, "I love you."

Oh. My. God.

It's like when you call your teacher your mom, or when you say "thank you" to someone who has already said it, or when you say something completely dumb/redundant/repetitive to someone and then you walk away fast with your head down in shame and your cheeks burning. That is what's happening.

But, for some reason, I keep my phone glued to my ear.

"I love you too," he says flippantly. "But this doesn't mean you get a discount."

"Oh my God."

"Have a nice day, lover."

"Um, you too."

I hang up on him and try not to think about the bizarre experience. Oh my god. Of course, when I come into the room, Isabelle and Simon are looking at me with a questioning look on their faces. They're expectant. Fuck.

"So, I told the pizza guy I love him," I tell them, my tone casual.

"Oh my God," Isabelle says.

"You did what?" Simon asks.

"And then he said he loves me back. And no, Isabelle, I didn't get a discount."

"I'm telling you, it usually works."

"That's..." I shake my head. "Listen, it was too awkward. I'm never ordering pizza on the phone. Ever. Again."

"You just need to practice," Simon says gently. "Besides, it's fine. You'll never see the pizza dude again."

When the pizza arrives thirty-five minutes later, I'm glad to see it is a woman making the delivery.

I pay for the pizzas and take them up to the apartment. My friends are in the kitchen, anxiously waiting for the pizzas—and for any news on whether the delivery person was the boy I professed my undying love for.