Pizza, worshiped by millions, adored by even more. Despised by Nola Greenwich, she has never seen what people find so appealing about the disgustingly cheesy dish. She stays as far away from the stuff as she can, until her best friend - pizza addict - drags her to pizza shop where she meets a delivery boy who she begins to see more often than she would like.


1. 00 | buffalo wings




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"Please can I have some buffalo wings and a large pepperoni pizza?" I ask as I rub my eyes, trying to ignore Gwynn as she sings an incredibly creative song about pizza, the only word in being pizza - the devil of the food world.

  "Sure," the dark haired boy in front of me mumbles as he writes the order down before passing it to the chef who works in the clearly visible kitchen. He turns back to me before continuing, "that'll be £9.98 and your phone number."

  "Here," I murmur passing him a note before actually taking in what he said, "what?"

  "Your phone number?" He grins widely at me as he takes the money from my hand, placing it in a till before collecting the two pence piece for my change. My heart begins to hammer in my chest as his hand brushes mine.

  "It's for text updates on offers we have," he clarifies, clocking on to the fact that I got the wrong impression, "I mean, not that I wouldn't want your phone number. I mean I wouldn't mind going on a date with you. Wait, sorry, I just meant that you're hot - sorry, attractive, I didn't mean to be too forward. Fucking hell."

  "It's fine," I laugh awkwardly, not looking directly at him, but rather at the pictures of the pizza hung up on the wall. I can feel my stomach begin to turn.

  "I'll bring your order over to your table," he responds awkwardly, watching the inanimate countertop.

  Without saying another word, I back away from the counter where he stands and walk towards the table that Gwynn occupies as she sings her pizza song.

  "Jesus Christ," I whisper as I slide into the booth, Gwynn stops singing immediately and smiles at me, "what?"

  "Told you he was good looking," Gwynn smirks at me before continuing her pizza chant.

  "He asked me for-" I stop myself when I see him make his way over with the food that sits in take away containers. When he reaches the table he remains silent as he places the food on the table before walking away. As he does, he stares at the table, desperately trying not to make eye contact with me.

  Gwynn sticks her head out to watch him walk away, "he's got a good bum. Wonder what it's like-"

  "Shut up Gwynn," I sigh as I begin to tap on the table nervously.

  "Fine. They don't usually bring food over to the table," Gwynn mumbles before she digs into her pizza, "why did you come and sit down?"

  "He told me to."

  "Dominant, I like it. Do you think-"

  "Gwynn," I snap, causing her to drop her pizza back onto her plate, "he asked for my phone number-"

  "Oh my God, did you give it to him. He's like a Greek god," she coos, looking back at him again before correcting herself, "well, Italian."

  "No, but he said it was for some text updates on offers-"

  "They don't offer that. Believe me, if they did I would be on the update list-"

  "But then he started rambling and-"

  "What did he say?"

  "I got the wrong end of the stick and obviously looked shocked so he said it was the offer thing and then he said 'not that I wouldn't want your number' and then he said he wouldn't mind going on a date... Gwynn, what're you doing?"

  "Nothing," she grumbles between mouthfuls of pizza as she looks through her bag before pulling out a pen and grabbing a napkin.

  "Gwynn stop."

  "I'm not doing anything," she argues as she writes a series of numbers down. From upside down, I can tell it's my phone number.

  "Why're you writing my number down on the napkin?" I screech, drawing the attention of everyone in the room, including the boy behind the counter who looks away as soon as he makes eye contact with me.

  "It's for the Italian sex god," she replies loudly.

  "He can hear you," I whisper, burying my face in the palms of my hands after seeing him look over as us with a look of confusion mixed with fear.

  "Oh well, I'll give him your number. That way he can give you text updates about the offers that they have on pizza," she shouts, just so the boy who served us can hear. She stands up and makes her way over to the boy at the counter who still wears a fearful look on his face.

  I watch between the gaps of my fingers, "this is my friend's phone number. You know, the one who ordered our food," she points at me as a taller boy, who looks similar to the one Gwynn is talking to.

  "What's wrong?"

  "This boy asked my friend for her number, that's her over there," every single person in the café looks at me, even an old man sticks his head out of a door to the side of the counter. "He said that it was for text updates on offers you have on in store. But I know that you don't offer it, I was in here at lunch and I wasn't notified about this. So," Gwynn smiles at the boy who by this point has turned bright red, "here's my friend's number. Text her, don't call her, she's unbelievably awkward when it comes to phone conversations."

  "Smooth," the taller boy laughs as he claps the smaller on the back of the back. He seems to fall forward slightly, before steadying himself. The whole time, never taking his eyes off me.

  With that, Gwynn strides over to our table and picks up her pizza box before exiting the diner. As quickly as I can, as everyone watches me, I pick up my food, glad to be out of there.

  Gwynn is no where to be seen but when I find her she'll be in trouble.

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