4. Coen #3
Back then, neither of us had much money. We came here because the pizza was cheap and good and the owner wasn’t mean to us like a lot of the other shop owners were. He served dollar slices, and sometimes, he would even give us two for one.
We devised this idiotic plan where we were going to do the pizza challenge—eat a gigantic pizza in thirty minutes and if you succeed, it’s free. Otherwise, it’s forty bucks.
To us kids, the idea of eating that much money in pizza was a fucking dream.
We had no doubts going into it that we could pull it off, but when June and I hit the halfway mark, the doubts started flowing in.
A crowd had gathered, random strangers cheering on the two dumb ass kids stuffing their faces with pizza.
People clapped and encouraged us, and just when I thought we wouldn't be able to pull it off, June and I got our second wind and shoved so much pizza into our mouths that I wasn't sure I'd ever crave it ever again.
The last ten seconds ticked by as the crowd yelled, the owner joining in, every single person in that place wanting us to win.
And because we were both too fucking stubborn, and too broke to pay the tab if we didn’t, we won.
Everyone yelled and I tried to force a smile, but the amount of pizza filling me kept my celebrations at bay. June and I locked eyes from across the table, a sort of telepathic stare saying, we did it, we did the impossible.
And maybe eating a massive pizza wasn’t impossible, but to us, it felt like it, and in a way, it was like a sign that we would get through anything—together.
We had spent the rest of the day suffering from our brilliant idea, but as the fullness wore off, a renewed bond had formed between us.
“Let’s never do that again.” She places her hand on her stomach. “I can still remember how stuffed I was for what felt like days. I thought cheese and pepperoni were going to come out of my nose."
“I’m surprised it didn’t.” I take her hand and guide her to the table. “Hopefully you’re back in good standing with pizza, otherwise, we can go somewhere else.”
She sits onto the seat but reaches over to squeeze my forearm. “I’m not kidding when I say this is perfect, Co.”
The door to the kitchen opens, and a bright-eyed older man comes out with a steaming pie in his grasp. “My two favorite customers,” he greets us.
After all this time, the same guy runs the place.
When I made arrangements for tonight, I had asked him why he’s never retired but he insisted he loves his job so much that retirement was never something he considered.
He said he hoped that someday, one of his children would take over, but that he wasn’t holding his breath.
“Jovi, you’re still here?” June rises and hugs the round man after he’s set the pizza on our table.
"Until the day I die." He embraces her and pulls away to look her over, but not in the creepy way that most men do.
"You're all grown up, kid." He smacks my shoulder.
"You both are." Jovi glances between us.
"But don't let me interrupt. You two have a wonderful evening, and if you need anything don't be afraid to holler.
I'll send Jonah out in a bit to check on you. "
“Thanks, Jovi,” June calls after him.
The two of us settle into our chairs, cutesy grins on our faces like we transformed back into those kids who were scrounging for change to get a slice of pizza to share. And now I have more money than I know what to do with, my heart still belonging to that same girl from all those years ago.
June digs into a slice, closing her eyes and moaning as she chews. “This is exactly how I remember.”
“You haven’t been back?” I ask her.
She wipes at the corners of her mouth and swallows the bite. “Nope. Have you?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“I avoided anything that reminded me of you.” June sips from the glass of water near her. “It honestly took me a long time to go back and visit my mom, afraid that her ghost wouldn’t be the only one I’d find.”
“I never meant to ruin that for you.”
She shrugs. “That was the past.”
“I’m sorry.” I reach for the champagne bottle. “Here’s to the future.”
“Co?”
“Hm?” I fill her glass and then mine.
“You never really told me what happened.”
“With what?” I respond, afraid to meet her gaze. There are few things in this world I’m afraid of and she’s at the top of the list.
“With everything, really. Your dad, why you had to leave, why you never came back, why you’re…different now. I mean, you’ve told me bits and pieces, but never the whole story.” June nibbles the edge of her pizza and waits for me to say something, anything.
But where do I begin? And how can I prepare either of us for the truth of it all?
That the sweet boy she fell for ten years ago transformed into a murderous lunatic.
“Why didn’t you come back? Tell me that, at least.”
"I thought I was protecting you," I confess the only truth that isn't too ugly to admit.
“How?”
“I…I did some terrible things, J. Things I thought I had to do. Things that changed me. Things that were supposed to bring me closer to you, but ended up being the very thing that made returning to you impossible.”
June stares at me, her gaze scanning my face. “And I thought it was because you didn’t love me.”
“Exact opposite, really. Everything I did, that I still do, is because I love you, maybe too much.”
“You know I waited for you?” She continues to look directly at me, her eyes glistening.
“I went to your house every day for months. I sat on your porch, glancing up at every vehicle that went down your road. I broke in through your window and slept in your bed, hoping and praying that I’d wake up to find you there.
I couldn’t tell you how many times I checked and rechecked our answering machine to see if it still worked.
If I ever hear the automated words, no new messages ever again, I’ll probably lose my mind.
“I was sad for the longest time. And then my sadness turned into anger. It was easier to be mad at you than anything else.” June chuckles. “My whole personality is based around being constantly pissed off. I’m not even sure if I could fix it if I tried.”
“I thought you were happy.”
“How would you know? You never bothered to find out.”
I recall all the times I stalked her. That I lurked in the shadows to catch a glimpse of the girl I would never move on from. But I don’t dare admit the truth. Instead, I say, “You’re right.”
“I’m not going to judge you for what you did, Coen, whatever it is, I can handle it.” She reaches across the table and latches onto my hand. “I know you still see me as that fractured girl in the cemetery, but I outgrew her a long time ago. You might think you’ve changed, but so have I.”
I consider my next move, a large part of me wanting to confess everything, but all of those underlying insecurities rising to the surface telling me to keep my mouth shut.
I fight both versions of myself and study the gorgeous face of the woman in front of me.
She really is right. We’re not those same kids from before.
Our love for each other is the only thing that truly remains from that time long ago.
“My dad,” I begin. “He pissed some really powerful people off.” I unravel the story one piece at a time, glossing over the details that aren’t totally necessary.
“He didn’t tell me everything, but from what I gathered, they threatened him...
something so bad that he shoved everything he could into the bed of that old pickup and nearly dragged me out of the house kicking and screaming.
It wasn’t until one drunken night that he confessed what happened with my mom. ”