Twenty-Eight | This Fruit Pizza is Trash

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Twenty-Eight | Ollie

The seat beside the annoying girl—the one who couldn't cut uniform pieces of anything to save her life—remained open. The clock on the wall matched the one on my watch. It was three minutes until eight, and that's when the door would shut until the semester testing was complete.

Where the hell is she?

I got her home at a decent time last night. Not only had I given Sloan the night off to study for finals, but I allowed her to study upstairs without distractions as I closed the kitchen for the night. This wasn't like her at all. Except for the green pepper dilemma, Sloan was punctual. In fact, she arrived everywhere way too early to avoid exactly this. I knew I should have talked her into staying in the city last night. She'd been home for almost a week now, and her commute was absolutely unnecessary.

With an anxious knee bobbing, I met the eyes of the student that always sat beside Sloan in class. She, too, turned and looked to the open seat with necessary worry. Another glance at the clock and the girl opened her purse, pulled out her phone, and sent off a quick text.

Smart, I thought. Although, that probably wouldn't look good if I immediately did the same. With every tick of the clock, I watched Sloan's available time fall away until there was nothing left. It was now eight, and I had to stand to shut the door of the classroom.

"Begin." I winced with the word, hearing multiple pens click and papers being shuffled.

Before the door was completely shut, I performed a quick scan of the hallway, looking it up and down both ways and finding it completely void of students or staff. Prayers were being sent telepathically, hoping that she was simply late. This was the first class of the day, meaning she'd only missed one of her finals. Taking my seat, I watched the students frantically writing, stressing, and some in absolute panic. The one student who never did those things, because she was that good when testing, was the only one missing.

Was she ill? Hurt? Was her car broken down somewhere?

Every scenario was playing in my head. It had been weeks since I wanted a cigarette this bad. Thankfully, I kept toothpicks in the top drawer of my desk for such an emergency. I hadn't even needed these as of late. After tossing the drawer open, I was given the opportunity to view the phone that had been placed inside to stop any distractions for my students. A notification of a text message flashed across the screen, and I couldn't get the phone into my hands fast enough.

New Message: Mom's Cell:
The barn door let loose again. Think you could come by this weekend and fix it? It is my birthday, after all. Bring Sloan with you. Kit won't stop talking about her.

That was not the message I was looking for, and it unnecessarily added to my anxiety for the day. I deleted it, knowing my ass wasn't going anywhere near it, and selected Sloan's name. I sent a message asking where she was before tossing it angrily back into the drawer. That move caused every student in the room's gaze to lift from their test to their teacher, and I didn't even care. For the first time since the semester started, I was being forced to write a zero beside Sloan Smith's name. Something was wrong.

I scanned the halls between every class, never catching a glimpse of the girl I was looking for. Sloan was nowhere on the premises, and when the workday finally ended, I couldn't escape the classroom fast enough. I'd called Sloan's phone three times on the way to the car alone, and every single time it amounted to nothing more to hearing her voice via voicemail. If she didn't answer my texts, she sure as hell wasn't about to answer a voicemail.

We were both set to work the dinner shift tonight. That was the first place I'd checked, followed by my apartment. She had no way of getting in there without me, and I knew she wouldn't be there, anyway. My only backup for the restaurant was Sloan. That left no one to run that kitchen if I were to go looking for her tonight. I'd need to leave after.

>><<

I arrived in front of Sloan and Hallie's duplex at nine. The guys had helped get me out of the restaurant early, and I knew it wasn't because of anything I'd done for them. They knew, just like me, that Sloan would never skip a shift without informing someone. They actually liked her, and I couldn't blame them.

The duplex helped to ease some of the anxiety. Lights were on. Two cars were parked in the driveway, with one being Sloan's. The count of how many times I'd attempted calling her phone today was now so substantial that it didn't even matter. Either her phone was dead, or she turned it off around noon.

I wasn't even halfway up their small yard when the front door opened, causing me to halt where I stood. A drained Hallie appeared—hair a mess on top of her head, sweatpants with a tee and some snow boots. I hadn't met her many times before, but she did not appear to be the type who would answer her door in this state. The door closed behind her, and she took the few steps down to meet me in the yard. The closer she got, the worse she looked, with eyes so red and strained from crying that I wondered if she could even see me.

I took a step, and Hallie's hand lifted to stop me again. "It's not a good time."

"Not a good time?" I said, repeating her words and holding up palms to question what the hell was going on. "Hal, she missed finals!"

"I know."

"She missed a shift! I can forgive that, but I can't do shit about her grades, and..."

"Ollie!" She cut me off with a harsh tone. The attitude immediately dropped, as did the corners of her lips. "It's been a year."

I swallowed, and it felt like razors down my throat.

Of all the things I had imagined were the reasoning for today, Steve had never once crossed my mind.

"How..." My throat cleared, only left imagining what today had been like. "How bad is she?"

Tears sprang from Hallie's eyes and she used her shirt to clear them while trying to regain composure. "She's a mess, and I can't help. She doesn't want my help. She won't get out of their bed. It's like it happened all over again. All those steps we got her to take forward are out the damn window, and I don't know what to do, and..."

I engulfed Hallie in a hug, feeling her break down into my chest. She was tired, and I knew that feeling better than anyone. While still holding the blonde, I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and finally replied to the one text I'd received earlier in the day. After tucking the phone away when finished, I held Hallie for a few good minutes until she shivered from a chilly night.

"I'm out of ideas," Hallie said into my shoulder. "She was doing so good."

"Let me in there."

Her head shook, and she pulled away, rubbing her eyes with her fingers before crossing her arms around herself. "She won't even let me in there. All she has left of him is that damn bed, and I can't get her to even unlock the door. She has eaten nothing all day. All I've done is beg her to come out while listening to her sob."

And that was clearly too much for Hallie to handle alone. It had been a year for Hallie too; she lost a close friend that day and needed her own time to mourn.

"You have help. Come on." I removed my jacket and wrapped it around the shivering girl, before ushering her back towards the house.

Once inside, all was quiet. I understood by the saddened glance Hallie sent towards the stairs that Sloan's room must be on the second floor. Seeing her backpack still sitting beside the front door, ready to go for her day of testing, was enough to make me feel like shit. Hallie had even packed her some sort of snack or lunch in a paper bag that was still sitting with it—which included a happy face and the words You got this!, for moral support.

I wasn't good at this sort of thing, but I had to use what I was good at to help the girl I was falling for. Even if it meant taking a step back to her last relationship. Knowing that chicken and dumplings weren't something I could whip up quickly, I needed to rely on Hallie's expertise.

"What's her comfort food?"

"Her what?" Hallie sniffled, looking away from the stairs and back at me.

"Everyone has one. Something she eats when she's a mess. We need to get her to eat."

"Uh..." Hallie racked her brain. "Fruit pizza on Pete? But he's dead. We will have to use Pete Junior."

Confused would be an understatement, and now I was questioning the mental stability of both girls. I really had no luck with blondes. Who the fuck were Pete and Pete Junior?

"It's a Pizza Pizzazz," she answered my troubled expression.

That didn't help convince me she was any less crazy.

"We named him after a homeless guy that loved to flash his flaccid dick through a pizza box."

Now I was certain she was off her rocker.

"Just..." She exhaled with an eye roll. "Follow me."

Once in the kitchen, I watched in horror as Hallie removed the ingredients of this fruit pizza that was supposedly "comforting". A roll of refrigerator sugar cookie dough—an obvious choice for a chef who hated baking—some icing from a plastic tub, frozen strawberries, raspberries and blueberries, and some chocolate syrup for the drizzle. The only thing to make this salvageable was finding some fresh bananas on the counter and kiwis in the fridge.

With a large cookie now rotating its way to what I hoped would be completely baked and not salmonella covered in frosting, we sat at the table slicing the bananas and kiwis while the other fruit was thawing. A few times I thought I'd heard Sloan crying upstairs, but the sound of Pete Junior rotating was drowning it out.

"What was he like?" I asked, not sure if I really wanted to know about Steve or not.

Hallie tossed a peel into the trash from her seat, followed by a sigh that turned into one of the first smiles of the night. "He was sweet. Too sweet sometimes. One of those people that was just too good for this world. He would..." Her smile grew. "He would give the shirt off his back to anyone, even when he needed it more. Out of our group of four friends, his foster life was the shittiest, and we all knew it. Never faltered him."

Of course, Steve sounded perfect. Somehow, I knew he would. I'd bet all my money that Steve never made her cry or be angry on purpose. Never thought about himself over Sloan the way I had. I wondered why a girl would just up and marry someone, even a friend who would not make it any further than he had, just to risk jail time, a lifetime of poor credit, and depression. But I was always a selfish bastard; it literally kept me up at night. Sloan was a heart of pure gold. That's why she did it.

"Do you love her?" Hallie whispered, selecting a kiwi to slice next.

I pushed the cutting board away and joined my hands atop the table. "She's not ready for that."

Hallie smiled. "Your avoidance of the question just answered the question."

"I'm not Steve, Hallie." I couldn't bring myself to match her facial expression. "I can't compete with a guy I never knew."

"She doesn't need you to be another Steve." Hallie stood from the table with the chiming of the Pizzazz timer. "She needs you exactly as you are."

Hallie didn't understand how wrong she was about that statement.

>><<

With the most disgusting looking dessert pizza I had ever seen or smelled in my life in my grip, I took the stairs until I was standing outside of the door to Sloan's bedroom. First door on the right, just as Hallie had instructed. In return, I had instructed Hallie to pack some things and wait by the front door. Silent crying was heard on the opposite side of the wall, and all I wanted to do was hold the girl it was coming from.

With my back pressed against the wall of the hallway, I slid until my ass hit the floor. The pizza was placed to my left, with the door to my right. Using a fist, I tapped lightly on the door and waited. No response followed, and I knew that would happen.

"It's me," I said to the door. "And I know I'm exactly who you don't need right now, Sloan. I know you need Steve, but Hallie is exhausted and needed some backup. So, here I am."

There were sniffles and more crying. She had to come out at some point. And for that reason, I knew I wouldn't leave this spot until she did. No one needed a hug more than she did right now, and I was going to be the first to give one to her.

"I won't beg you to come out," I continued, looking at my watch. "Because you only get one day like this. There is only one one-year day, and this is Steve's. In fifteen minutes, when the clock turns to midnight, that day is over. Day 366 is going to be another day where he's not here, and I'm so sorry for that. But I hope that on that day you'll come out and eat some of this atrocious-looking fruit pizza that I just concocted on an appliance named Pete Junior."

There was nothing but silence following my words, and that was okay. I could wait.

Each minute felt like a lifetime. I'd never watched the seconds hand of my watch so closely. In fifteen minutes, there was a knock on the door downstairs with the sound of Hallie's greetings. Just as I watched the time finally turn to midnight, there were two sets of footsteps on the stairs that I stopped with a motion of my hand. Because with the time change, there was also a click of the lock, telling me that Sloan was out of bed and had unlocked the door. With wide eyes, Hallie turned herself back around and went back downstairs.

I stood just in time for Sloan to open the door. Wild hair, a pair of the puffiest brown doe-eyes, pink cheeks, and pale—it wasn't her best look, but I was just happy to get her out of there without taking down the door. She sniffled again, anxiously tugging on the hem of the gray sweatshirt she wore that was at least two sizes too big on her. I gripped her elbow and pulled her into me, feeling her collapse into my arms.

"Make it not hurt." Sloan sobbed into the crook of my neck, splashing hot tears onto my skin.

I wished with everything in me I could do that for her and me, but my head shook. "It has to hurt to heal."

Her arms were tight around my neck, and I wrapped myself into her, sinking us down to the floor where I could hold her and let her cry it out. I pressed my lips to her tangled hair and allowed her to sob freely for another twenty minutes before it turned into some tired sniffles and hiccups.

"Did you really make my pizza?" she whispered into my shirt.

"Yeah." I could finally smile, moving the dessert so that it was in front of us. I picked up a square piece of the fruit pizza and bit into it. Pure sugar with a hint of still partially frozen fruit. "Sloan, we have to talk about you wanting to be a chef." I had to force myself to swallow it. "This fruit pizza is trash."

Sloan picked a piece for herself, still sniffling and using the sleeve of the sweatshirt to swipe at her nose. She bit into it, and I got to see the smallest smile that she could make. The second bite told me she loved it much more than I did.

"I told you I hate baking, too," she said, finishing the piece with crumbs falling down the front of her.

I wasn't sure I'd even classify whatever I'd done down there as baking. That was an abomination to the craft.

The sound of the footsteps on the stairs again lifted both our heads. Hallie was the first to appear, looking hesitant to go anywhere near her best friend out of fear it might start the waterworks again. The second person to emerge was my mother, still in her pajamas after a three-hour drive and wearing a very sympathetic frown.

Sloan stood from her spot, immediately filling the outstretched arms of Mom. She was the only person who I could think of who could relate in the same way, and I also knew that my mom was the only person who would find the right words to say. I didn't hear everything that my mother whispered to her, only parts—that the first year was the hardest; that she was strong for making it through, and that every day got easier. Those definitely weren't things that resonated with me, but Sloan drank them all in, nodding her head against Mom's chest while being held.

Hallie reemerged from Sloan's room with a duffle bag in hand. It was the only plan I could think of. Just a few short weeks ago, I'd never seen Sloan as happy as she was at the farm. The way I got her mind off her panic attacks was by making her smile, and she smiled the entire time we were there. Putting my hesitancy on the back-burner, I would head back for a day or two to get Sloan back on track, with the idea that Hallie could join too. I'd already messaged a friend who would fill in at Mulligan's until I could get back into the kitchen.

On the plus side, it would please my mother for her birthday. On the downside, there was a to-do list that was making my stomach ache with fear.


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