Pete's Pizza Palace greeted me with its familiar red neon glow as I skillfully parked my bike, expertly dodging a couple of rogue autumn leaves. I ran my fingers through my hair, attempting to tame the wild strands, secretly wondering if there was a "windproof" hairstyle out there.
Note to self: Google that later.
I strolled through the entrance, and the tantalizing aroma of pizza enveloped me, wafting from the hidden corners of the kitchen. My stomach rumbled in response, betraying my hunger. Pete's at The Crest Town Center is not just known for its tasty pizza; it's a favorite among us locals. It's always been here, a familiar and nostalgic part of our memories, as long as we can remember.
As I looked around, my gaze settled on a table in the corner, which was occupied not by just two people but by four, including Adam.
Why is he here?
Why are they all here, sitting in a pizza joint with Mr. Scott?
I hesitated, contemplating an escape, but Penny's voice shattered my exit strategy. "Over here!" she called out, as if I needed a GPS to locate their booth.
Taking a deep breath, I sauntered over, feeling the collective gaze of the pizza squad on me.
"What's up?" I greeted, trying to mask my surprise with a meek smile as I squeezed into the booth beside Penny.
Mr. Scott chimed in with a pepperoni-based icebreaker. "Hope you like pepperoni."
I glanced at the two orders of pizza on the table and noticed they seemed to be already in the midst of a deep conversation.
"Yes, I love them," I breathed out, staring at a single slice on the plate in front of me.
"And your family owns that quaint little bookshop..." I looked up and saw Mr. Scott looking at Adam.
"Yeah," Adam responded in his usual succinct manner.
As they continued discussing stage jitters and how to cope with them, a waitress approached our table with five glasses of milkshake, briefly interrupting Melissa, who was in the middle of sharing how nervous she felt during the opening night of her first-ever written play.
I side-eyed Adam, who was munching on his pizza. Flashback to when he claimed Melissa's characters were all pretentious and about as relatable as a platypus trying to fit in at a penguin party. Back then, I figured he was just spouting nonsense. I mean, come on, how could he possibly get the complexities of Melissa's storytelling?
Fast forward to now, and as he silently savored that pizza slice, I had to admit, maybe he's not just shooting the breeze.
Amidst the sea of milkshakes and theatrical discussions, Mr. Scott turned the spotlight on me, asking about the inspiration behind "All's Fair in Love."
Panic set in—I hadn't realized we'd transitioned to discussing inspirations.
I nonchalantly shrugged, staring at my plate as if it held the secrets of the universe. "Every Jane Austen book I've read, I guess."
Melissa, with a teasing grin, remarked, "It's obvious in your writing." I managed a weak smile and a nod, internally cringing at the spotlight on my inspiration choices.
I smiled weakly, then nodded at her. "I guess."
She, however, took it a step further. "But no matter how much you loved her books or any book from any author that you basically worship, your work should reflect you and not some other people."
I felt a mix of embarrassment and confusion, opting for a nod and a forced smile.
"She's getting there, and I personally think her characters are entertaining and identifiable." My eyes met Adam's familiar smirk, reigniting the tiny spark of irritation.
I was glad he spoke, but I was still a tiny bit upset with him.
Melissa, perhaps sensing the underlying tension, raised her glass, breaking the awkward silence. "To your success come opening night, Wendy."
Raising our glasses, we all took a sip from our drinks. Penny, looking at me with a hint of guilt, sipped her chocolate milkshake.
"It's really nice of you to hang out with your students outside school, Mr. Scott," Melissa commented, breaking the slurping silence.
"Penny made a valid point. We will be working closely with each other for the coming weeks, and I think it'll be really good if we're all comfortable with each other." Mr. Scott paused, scanning the booth. "Although I'm not sure if we still have other students joining us." He glanced at his watch.
"They have other plans... said the invite was sort of short notice," Penny chimed in with a nonchalant shrug.
I shot her a side-eye, silently accusing her of orchestrating this free pizza and milkshake without informing the others. Her covert operation had successfully satisfied her pizza cravings.
I gave her a meaningful look to suggest she had some explaining to do.
She grabbed another slice and dove into it, causing a temporary silence as we collectively focused on our remaining slices.
Suddenly, a phone rang. Adam fished his phone from his side. "I have to go ahead, guys." He acknowledged Mr. Scott with a nod. "Thanks for the treat, Mr. Scott."
"Leaving so soon?" Melissa questioned, her tone flat and her eyes not leaving her pizza.
He shrugged. "Yeah." Then, his gaze shifted to me. "It's Jay."
Penny couldn't resist a tease. "You forgot you had a date?" she sniggered.
"I gotta go." Adam scowled at her.
Penny beamed. If I didn't know her well, I'd swear she had a personal vendetta against Adam. But no, it was just her playful demeanor that, I had to admit, had tiptoed across a few boundaries.
Mr. Scott and Melissa gave Adam a brief wave as he hurried out of Pete's.
As we geared up to leave, the clock was already ticking towards six. The thought of heading to Brown's seemed pointless now, considering the pile of assignments and reading waiting for me. My planned chat with Adam would have to wait, unless, of course, he decided to make a surprise visit to my place. Given his apparent preoccupation with whatever he and Jay were up to, I highly doubted it.
Dabbing a tissue against my mouth, I rose and trailed behind Penny and Melissa toward the exit, Mr. Scott casually joining me.
"Enjoyed your pizza and milkshake, Ms. Greene?" he inquired, maintaining his friendly demeanor.
I crossed my arms, attempting to sound nonchalant. "Of course. Pete's is pretty much everyone's pizza place."
Despite his amiable nature, I couldn't shake the tension around Mr. Scott. He radiated a blend of friendliness and attractiveness that made me perpetually uneasy.
"Although I'm really quite surprised you agreed to hang out with your students after school." As we walked side by side, I couldn't help but voice my curiosity.
He halted, turning to me with that signature Cheerios smile.
"I am not sure if you have told Ms. Watsons about the bet, but she kind of saved me from saying yes to an invitation from one of the girls."
One of the girls. Claudia. I nodded, figuring out the surprise behind his post-school pizza meet-up.
We resumed walking, with Mr. Scott holding the door open for me.
"Yes. I tried to find you for help, but you seemed busy packing up, looking like you couldn't wait to leave."
"Well, I did look back at you, and it looked like you already got the help you needed," I replied, attempting to sound casual and failing miserably.
"Yeah. Well, you just smiled and didn't really rescue me."
And what should I reply to that? Why couldn't I summon the wit of Elizabeth Bennet when I needed it most? Once again, I found myself utterly lost for words.
Mr. Scott chuckled softly, breaking the awkward silence. "I love this time of the year."
"Autumn? Yeah. Totally cool season."
"The dreary sun behind grey clouds, musty leaves on the ground, and lingering chills make us appreciate warm meals and a hot cup of coffee even more."
Holy falafel! He's so deep, and I'm so... dumb?
"Well, if you put it that way—"
"Is your dad picking you up, Wendy?" Penny interrupted, diverting the conversation as we joined them.
I tightened my jacket around me, the autumn breeze playing with my hair. "No. I have a... I've got my bicycle," I replied. Turning to Mr. Scott, I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "I-ah, thanks for the pizza and milkshake, Mr. Scott."
He smiled down at me. "You're welcome, Ms. Greene. I guess we'll have to talk about autumn some other time. See you in class tomorrow."
"Yeah. Some other time." I nodded, waving goodbye to Melissa and Penny. "See you tomorrow, guys!"
I slowly made my way to where I left my bicycle. I pedaled down the lot and onto the dewy road lined with leaves of various shades. Taking a deep breath, I pondered Mr. Scott's perspective on life. Did he always view it through the lens of appreciating warm meals and hot coffee?