Masked Attraction

Chapter 9: You Always Eat My Pizza

The rest of the day I spend organizing my agenda and reading some of the chapters for next week. After getting a decent amount of school work done, I text Sebastien around 7pm. He offers to pick me up in his car so we can go to the pizzeria.

I slide into his mustang beaming at him and he offers a smile that doesn't meet his eyes.

I clear my throat. "What's wrong?" I ask concerned.

"My dad called me late last night after I dropped you off," he responds drily and my blood goes ice cold.

"Wh-what happened?" I say shaken.

He exhales pinching the bridge of his nose. "He sounded like he was smashing things and then he was asking where my mom was. I tried telling him mom was with Carl like she's been the past couple of years, but he wasn't listening. He seemed more out of it than normal."

I reach over and grab his hand, "I am sorry Bash. You don't think—could he be off his meds again?"

He glances softly at me. "He could be, I never know what it is. But it's all good, I mean I pretty much expect that whenever I see his name pop up on my phone," he says offhandedly shrugging it off and switching the ignition back on.

"I know but it doesn't mean it is fair for you to have to deal with," I respond and bite my lip.

He musters up one of his apologetic grins. "I am sorry to kill the mood."

I shake my head not wanting him to feel any guilt over something that is nowhere near his fault. "Don't worry about it, okay?" I say. "Do you want to just get pizza to-go instead and just bring it back to my dorm?"

"That sounds amazing," he replies.

I smile. "Alright, I'll call it in. I'll even order a large margarita for you."

He deeply chuckles. "We both know that you love the margarita as much as me." His sea-blue eyes twinkle with mischief.

"No, my favorite is vegetarian that's why I always get it," I inadvertently reply, pulling up the pizzeria's phone number.

"Mhmm and that's why you always end up eating my margarita," he teases back his voice husky.

"Shut up," I say smacking his arm lightly.

"Hey, hey I am driving over here. I seriously should get armor to protect myself from how much you hit me." But I can tell from the corner of my eye that he is grinning. When we pull up, I run inside and grab the small vegetarian and large margarita pie, and head back in the car slipping them into the backseat.

"Want me to drive us back home after we eat?"

"Yeah, sure let's do that," I answer buckling back in on the passenger's side. We arrive back at my dorm and set up a make-shift table from the desks. I slide open the boxes the sweet smell of cheese and sauce wafting my senses.

This has been our tradition since high school. Every Friday, Sebastien and I have a pizza night and we have never broken it. Not even when his parents divorced in his sophomore year of high school or when I had the flu and he brought me both soup and pizza on the side. When he went to college a year before me and I followed the year after, we managed to find a pizzeria close to Princeton that was up to our standards.

"So what did you do at the party? I still can't get over the fact you went and I basically missed all the action," he mutters.

"I ended dancing with some new friends I made," I respond and his eyebrows raise in surprise.

"Yep." I nod my head cheekily. "His name is Luka, I think he might know you. He introduced me to his other friends which are all super nice: Jess, Becky, Ray, and Jared," I say excitedly, since it is unheard of for me to meet new people.

"Luka? I don't think I do. That's great though. I have been telling you that you need to go out and meet people. I know I am amazing, but you should have other friends as well," he says lightheartedly.

I amusedly roll my eyes at his arrogance. "I think he is in a frat that's probably how he knows you. And I do, I have Jamie," I retort stealing a huge slice of his margarita pizza.

"I mean more than both me and Jamie," he replies. He gives me a knowing grin eyeing the margarita pizza in my hand but doesn't say a word.

"Well, now I do. And they're cool. I even have a class with Luka. We sat in class and then grabbed breakfast together," I admit, still somewhat stunned it happened myself.

"Oh?" He says curiously, pausing mid-bite with his slice floating in the air. "So are you like interested in him?"

"What? I mean I don't know. I was just excited about the being friends part."

"Hmm. Well, I can dig around for you. Find out about this guy. Learn all his dirty secrets." He wags his eyebrows jokily.

"Stop, no." I laugh. "I don't know if it is like that or if I want that yet."

"Just let me know," he says smirking and I grin shaking my head. After we finish demolishing the pizza, I pack up my laundry and we drive back home together. He blasts his rap music while I try and rival with my alternative music, our typical routine. Once we pull up, he carries my laundry bags to my door and then we part ways saying goodnight. I walk upstairs and unpack my books and belongings while setting up my uniform for my library job tomorrow. I go to say goodnight to my parents and notice my mom still isn't home from her job yet unsurprisingly. My dad's light is on in his home work-office so I pop my head in.

"Hey dad, I just got back. Sebastien dropped me off," I announce and he doesn't look up from his computer rapidly typing.

"That's great. How are your classes? I haven't had a chance to check out your professor list yet that you sent me."

I nod my head unsurprised. Basically, the only thing I have in common with my parents is my studies. That's primarily ninety-five percent of all our conversations, not that we have many since they work most of the time.

"They seem great. I already got a jumpstart on my syllabi for most of my classes. I am really excited about my Epidemiology course, the professor used to work for the CDC," I answer. He glances up at me beneath his glasses.

"That's good to hear. Did you—" He begins to say and his phone rings. He puts up a finger. "Oh, I have to get this. You'll tell me more, yes?" I nod my head in response. "Great, shut the door on your way out please."

I start to close the door and say "Goodnight dad."

He already has his phone to his ear, "Dr. Carlisle, no it is not a bad time at all. How have you been?"

I shut the door and stroll back up to my room shutting the lights and drift to sleep.