The Pizza Boy

Part 2

After scrolling through hundreds upon hundreds of channels which were all playing absolutely nothing I settled on an America’s Next Top Model marathon. I had used to watch it all the time when I was in middle school and would get out a full hour before Kevin, however since we were now both in high school me in ninth grade and him in eleventh I couldn’t watch it without him throwing a fit. Although he did like the Kardashians which wasn’t a bad show so it all worked out okay, most boys liked things like wrestling and soccer and boring stuff like that, so I guess I was pretty lucky.

After several minutes of watching painfully thin, starving girls fight cattily with each other, cry, comfort each other and then throw each other under the bus I was startled by the sound of the doorbell. Hoping to my feet I crossed over to the counter, removed a twenty from the hundred Mom had left and skipped over to the door.

After first checking though the curtains to make sure it was indeed the pizza man instead of a masked murderer I opened the door. I was surprised to see that the guy standing there was young, maybe Kevin’s age or a year older. He was extremely pale, had shaggy blonde hair which was smooched down on his face under his delivery boy hat, and was almost freakishly gangly.

“Hi,” I said nervously, standing behind the door like Mom had taught me in case whoever it was was a psycho and tried to come in and kill me.

“Hi Katy,” he replied.

 “How do you know my name?” I faltered, easing the door closed a little.

The boy smirked and held up the box which had the receipt for the order taped to it and my name scribbled across the top. I mentally slapped myself for being paranoid before holding out the twenty.

“That’s okay,” he answered.

I looked up at him confused, “I think I have to pay,” I told him, “Um, that’s how you get paid.”

I didn’t know why he wouldn’t know that I mean he was older then I was and I had understood the concept of money since I was six, however I smiled at him as I tried hard not to judge.

“Uh, yeah I know,” he answered scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, “But somebody already paid for it.”

“Who?” I asked.

He smirked, “That’s confidential information.”

“Did you pay for it?” I asked.

Grinning he shrugged and handed me the box of pizza.

“Thanks,” I said.

He smiled, “No problem, see you Katy.”

I nodded, and after removing his hat and bowing deeply he started down the front steps to his car. After watching for a moment to make sure he didn’t like fall backwards and crack his head open then try and sue us, I closed the door and carried the pizza into the kitchen.

The haunting aroma coming from the box was so mouthwatering it took every ounce of self control I had to resist throwing open the box and eating it with my hands while I washed my hands, retrieved a water out of the garage refrigerator, and picked out a paper plate, no way was I doing dishes.

When I had finally completed this little routine I crossed over the square shaped cardboard box and threw it open, looking down at the pizza I stopped dead in my tracks. This couldn’t be mine, there had to be some mistake. The onions and yellow peppers were not tossed sporadically on the pizza as I had expected but carefully arranged into the shape of a heart.

I bit my lip and looked down unsurely, the pizza looked cute, it must have been someone else’s order maybe someone was going to propose or something, but who proposed over pizza and ordered a pepper and onion small, no one that’s who. Suddenly I stopped and bent over the box there was something wrong with the pizza. Stained green circles dotted the entire thing mapping out the places where the peppers had been originally, the person that made the pizza didn’t due this it was someone else, but who else would have come in contact with it. Just whoever made, there person that boxed it who would have been too busy getting the pizza’s into their boxes to play a prank and the delivery boy.

My mouth went dry. I knew that guy had been a freak. Closing the lid of the box I picked up the pizza and carried it out to the garage where I tossed it in the garbage. Returning back into the house I poured myself a bowl of cereal grateful that I hadn’t wasted any money on the complete waste of food that now sat in the trash.

As I sat eating my second bowl of Lucky Charms and wondering if it would be Stephanie or Bridget who could become the next ANTM I was startled by the ringing of the house phone in the kitchen. Sighing I set down my bowl on the coffee table and darted over to the phone. Glancing at the caller ID I let out a few choice words when it read unavailable, meaning I had gotten up for nothing.

Settling back on the couch I picked up my bowl and settled back into the pillows to watch Brigit take her turn on the runway. A few minutes later just as I was getting into the phone rang again. Huffing, I again set down my bowl and crossed over to the phone, which again read unavailable.

Mumbling some rather unladylike phrases on where solicitors should go, I returned to the couch only to find that I had missed Brigit’s big reveal and my cereal was getting soggy.

Not really caring to watch Stephanie’s reveal since I personally found her to be a whiny, self absorbed brat I carried by bowl over to the sink. Filling it with water because I was far to last to be bothered with, God forbid, actually washing it, I started back towards the living room.

Just as I set foot on the carpet the phone rang again. This time I actually let out a tiny scream sigh of annoyance and storming over to the hook that hung on the wall, I wasn’t surprised to that the call read unavailable. The phone rang several times as I stood in front of it, debating wheatear or not to answer it and give these people a taste of my mind, however before I actually worked up the nerve to do it the ringing stopped.

Turning on my heel to return to my show I was startled as the phone started ringing again. My mind made up I snatched it off of the hook and pressed it against my ear angrily.

“What do you want?” I demanded.

“Hey Katy,” a voice said lightly.

My eyebrows furrowed, the caller ID had said unavailable which meant that it was supposed to be a solicitor, but what kind of solicitor knew my name, the phone along with everything else was registered to Mom not me. The thought crossed my mind that it was possibly a kid from school, however I quickly reminded myself that I didn’t have any friends to call me, which pretty much disproved that theory.

“Who is this?” I asked.

“It’s Sam,” the voice on the other end replied.

I racked my brain for a Sam but came up blank. The only Sam I had ever known was a girl in my kindergarten who had moved to Canada before first grade, and the person I was talking to was clearly a boy.

“Who?” I asked.

“Sam,” the voice replied, “The pizza guy.”