Page 43 of Stroked Long
“Our pizzas?” I ask, never once cheers-ing my food. Drinks, yes; food, no.
“Well of course, what else would we cheers?”
“Our drinks maybe?” I suggest with a shrug.
“And how boring is that?” Rolling her eyes, she picks up her root beer, cheers mine and takes a sip. “Ugh, so boring. No, we cheers our food.” Holding up her pizza again and encouraging me with her eyes, I do the same. “To good friends, good pizza, and . . . hmm, I feel like there needs to be three things we cheers to.” A girl after my own heart, three is such a great number. “To . . .”
“To not cheers-ing our drinks,” I add, hoping I don’t sound like a complete dipshit.
“Yes, to not cheers-ing our drinks.” She smiles broadly. I love her smile, especially how it lights up her whole face when she appreciates something I’ve done.
Carefully and very strangely we tap the tips of our pizzas together and then both take a bite at the same time. Once again, nerves flutter in my stomach as I wait for her reaction to the one and only creation I used to make for my mom so many years ago.
A low moan escapes her as she closes her eyes. She’s clearly enjoying the bite she took. Pride surges through me, once again.Mom would adore Ruby’s bright personality. It’s times like these I wish she and Dad were here.I really hope she would be proud of me.
“This is so good, Bodi. At first I was nervous about all the veggies but this crust is amazing, really crisp with a cheesy flavor. Where did you get it?”
And here is my little secret that will blow her mind.
“It’s actually ground-up cheese and cauliflower.”
“Cauliflower?” she asks in disbelief. “There is no way that is cauliflower.” She takes no time in turning the slice in her hand over to take a look at the crust. “How could this be cauliflower?”
“Veggies can do weird things.” I take another bite, loving my cauliflower pizza.
“Typical Bodi Banks. Skips the carbs for some kind of magical cauliflower crust. Where do you get your discipline?”
I shrug. “I guess I’ve just become accustomed to it.” More like obsessed but she doesn’t need to know that. My obsessive-compulsive personality has fixated on certain things: eating healthy, training, keeping the house impeccably clean, and locking the fucking doors . . . three times.
Taking another bite, she talks with her mouth full. For some reason, I find it adorable. “I wish I could become accustomed to eating veggies like you, but my body seems to enjoy a doughnut over a carrot.”
“Ah yes, I remember your love for doughnuts.”
“How do you . . .?” Her voice trails off as recognition falls over her face. “Ugh, that damn Lauren tempting me with a doughnut. I could still punch her tuna box. How humiliating. I’m sorry you had to see me sweat over a pastry like that.”
“It was impressive.” I chuckle.
Her mouth flies open in shock, the corners of her lips tipping up in mirth. “Are you making fun of me?”
“No, I’ve just never seen someone work that hard for a doughnut. Quite the accomplishment.”
“Oh my God.” She laughs and shoves my arm. “You’re making fun of me.”
“And showing up to a swim class in a two-piece?” I tsk her with a shake of my head.
“Hey.” She holds up her finger. “I showed you how it could be a one-piece.”
“Yes, who can forget the moose knuckle?” The horrified but fun-loving look on her face makes me laugh out loud, not just chuckle or *gulp* chortle. No, I laugh.
“I don’t know if I like this Joking-Bodi. He seems to remember too many incriminating things only to use them against me later.”
“Regular-Bodi would remember the same thing. At least Joking-Bodi is more fun to be around.”
Shit, why did I just say that?
“I like both Bodis,” Ruby says without skipping a beat and finishing off her pizza, putting me at ease once again.
The big question is, would she like the Bodi who left the door unlocked that eventually got his parents killed? Would she like the Bodi who obsesses over minute things? Would she like the Bodi who is emotionally detached?
