By the time his mom pulled into the driveway, we’d started our second movie and were cuddling—well, making out and cuddling. But as soon as we heard the door, we put ourselves at opposite ends of the couch.
“Hey, boys! Pizza’s here,” she called. “Come ‘n’ get it.”
We headed into kitchen, which already smelled like pepperoni, tomato sauce, and green peppers. She opened the box on the counter and I saw she’d gone for the supreme deluxe.
Jeff and I grabbed plates and made our way to the table. Weird, but normally we would’ve sat next to each other and not thought a thing about it, but now we automatically put the table between us, directly facing each other. If his mom noticed, she didn’t say anything.
She grabbed milk and glasses, then passed them around after she poured.
“Honey, can yo
