Untouchable (boyxboy)

Chapter 9

I'd intended to play it cool—maybe admit the pizza was tasty if it turned out to be good—but I can't hide the truth.

It's the best fucking pizza I've ever had.

It's thin—New York style—and the crust is light with a lively sourdough tang. It's covered in a heavenly layer of melted cheesy bliss, lightly toasted on top, glistening with the best kind of grease, and the sauce is rich and alive with flavor. I find myself closing my eyes with the first bite and making an unconscious noise of enjoyment.

When I look up, Isaac is watching me with a cocky grin. "I win," he says.

There's no point denying the obvious.

"Yeah, you win," I agree. "This is amazing. I can't wait to take my dad here. He lives for good pizza."

"There's another place we can try," Isaac says, "but it's closer to the Italian style—wood-fired, light on the toppings, extra thin—amazing flavor. It's pretty close to the real thing."

"You've had the real thing?" I ask.

"Yeah, I went on one of those European tour trips after high school," he says. "I'll show you."

He gets out his phone and pulls up his pictures, scrolling through to a series that shows him in various tourist highlights across France, Germany, Italy, and Spain. In a lot of the selfies, he shares the frame with a  young blond woman.

"Who's that?" I ask.

"Oh, that's Ashley. She was my girlfriend at the time."

I have to admit I'm surprised. She's not ugly, by any means, but she's no great beauty either. She looks...pretty average, actually. She has wide blue eyes, thin lips, a slightly curved nose, and a noticeably flat chest. Not exactly the Beach Barbie type I'd pictured Isaac going for, but the expression on his face when he looks at her picture is wistful and fond.

"This trip was probably the last good time we had together," he says.

"You broke up with her?"

He shakes his head. "She left for college—got into a fancy East Coast school. I wanted to try the whole 'long-distance' thing, but she got all honest on me and said I wasn't 'intellectual enough' for her." He laughs and shrugs. "She was right, but that's what I liked about her—she always had something interesting and smart to say."

Once again, I'm forced to reassess my opinion of Isaac. It seems I'd judged him unfairly based on a few faulted factors: his appearance and interests, and the fact that he and Dylan are friends. I'd assumed he was shallow because he was good-looking, but I guess I'm the shallow one for thinking that way.

"What about you?" he asks, slipping his phone back in his pocket. "You traveled much?"

"Not really," I admit. "We went on a few trips when I was kid, but only within the States."

"Where would you go if you could go anywhere?" He takes an enormous bite of pizza and chews it while he waits for me to answer.

I think for a moment. "I'd take my dad to New York," I say. "He grew up there and I've never been. He says he misses the food."

"You're really close with your dad, huh?" Isaac remarks.

I nod. "Yeah. He's all I've got, really."

He frowns. "You've got Dylan. And now you'll have me an' Belle."

I brush some loose curls behind my ears and take another bite of pizza without answering.

"What's the deal with you an' Dyl, anyway?" he asks, slurping soda from a straw.