Love Among the Pizza Boxes

She seems confused. Like she doesn’t know what to say.
And it’s beginning to confuse me. I don’t like being confused. Especially when I’m tired. Not a good combination.
I scratch my wrist awkwardly, then pick up my pizza slice and eat the rest of it.
“Do you have any soda?” I ask.
Crap. I sounded kinda rude there.
Oh well.
“Uhm… Yeah.” She gets up and goes to the fridge. Opens it. “Root beer… Beer beer… Sprite… Coke… Fresca… Don’t think that counts as soda… The generic brand of Dr. Pepper… And… Yeah. Pick your poison.”
I groan. “As tempting as beer sounds… I’m not yet old enough. And I refuse to get drunk tonight. That would suck. So root beer. It’s the next best thing.”
Did I really just talk about getting drunk?
I bet I sounded drunk.
Crap.
“Okay… Are you sure? Root beer’s un-caffeinated.”
No caffeine? Screw you, root beer.
“Coke then. It’s got sugar. And caffeine.”
I sound retarded. What is with me tonight?
Must be the full moon.
… The full moon last week.
Whatever. Side effects take a while to soak in sometimes.
Shut up, Riku. You sound retarded.
Must be the full moon.
Shayla comes back to the table with a Coke and a Fresca. She slides the Coke over to me.
“Thanks.” And I crack the can open and chug it.
That must’ve been attractive.
“Did you know that Coke used to be made with cocaine?” she asks.
I stop mid-chug and begin to choke.
Well. You learn something new every day.
I cough. A lot. Stupid Coke.
“Oh. Sorry.’’ She chokes on a laugh and continues when my coughing fit is over. “Well. You ever wonder why Coke’s so popular? Instant happy maker. I remember my Dad told me one time about the samples they used to hand out and they’d go back in line for another swig cause of the rush.”
“So… I’m drinking liquid cocaine right now?” That would suck. Drugs are for losers.
“False. After a while, they figured out that it’s not the best idea to put cocaine in the soda.”
I chuckle. Raise my Coke can in a toast. Drink the rest.
“That’s good news.”
“Yeah.” She hasn’t opened her Fresca yet.
I kinda stare at the can of Fresca for a second.
Staring’s rude, Riku. Bad Riku.
I look up at the clock on the wall. What a lonely clock.
Stop thinking that, Riku!
It’s about ten thirty now.
A lot of time must’ve passed during those awkward silences.
I sigh, and look at my shoes. I have big feet.
“Riku…?”
“Mmm…?” I mutter suddenly. A caveman noise.
Me Riku. Me tired. Me need sleep.
I look up at her. “Yes?”
“Do you need a ride home?”
Now that’s something you don’t hear every day.
Usually, the guy will ask the girl if she needs a ride home. Then she’ll say yes. Then, when they pull up, he’ll walk her to the door. And then he kisses her. And in some movies, the door opens and the dad is standing there. Then the guy gets severely injured. Or just kicked off the property.
Shut up, Riku.
“That’d be awesome.”
“Alrighty. You ready to go?”
I groan and stand up.
The staff room is cold.
“Ready.”
“Follow me, pizza boy.”