AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You got it. I’m basically in wizard training right now. Although I’m not sure having a bachelor’s in witchcraft is what employers are looking for on résumés.” She hops down from the wall and skips over to me, her flip-flops making loud snapping noises as they smack the bottom of her feet.
Hannah doesn’t wait for me to bend down to her level, instead choosing to grab a handful of my shirt and dragging me downward into the paradise of her kiss. Her eager mouth doesn’t care that we’re in public, nor does her wicked tongue as she teases me with it. By the time she releases her hold, I’m practically cross-eyed and panting, wondering where the closest semi-private area is that I can sneak her into.
But my brain hits the restart button and reminds me I have a mission to complete.
Convince Hannah to stay.
Then, we can christen the dorm building stairwell.
“Your distraction tactics, while impressive, won’t work, Shorty.” I do my best to glare down at her grinning face, which shows not an ounce of remorse.
“Oh, really? I’ll just have to try harder next time.” She links her hands behind her back and rocks up on her toes. “So, what’s the plan today? What’s this big surprise?”
Maybe I shouldn’t have hyped it up so much, but I’ve been scrambling for something to get her to stick around. To take a chance on me.
“I can’t just give it away. You’ll have to blindly follow me.”
“Sounds dangerous.” Hannah hooks her arm around my elbow. “I’m down.”
Please let this work.
As we stroll through campus, the two of us linked together, the shadow of dissatisfaction lingering in the back of my mind—which I’ve never wanted to admit exists—dissipates. Listening to Hannah recount her girls’ night might as well be a practice in meditation because all the muscles in my body ease. My mind hovers in a happy fog of contentment.
She’s my girl. I’m part of a pair. It’s her and me, no longer against each other, but moving in tandem.
Does she feel it too?
“You’re taking me for pie? I love this surprise.” Hannah hugs my arm against her chest as we cross the street to pull open the front door of Slice ’Em Up.
A tiny golden bell rattles, announcing our entrance. My date’s perfume mingles with the other syrupy fruit dessert scents, making this visit almost an erotic experience.
“I am taking you for pie, but that’s not the surprise.”
The shop isn’t too crowded. We’ve arrived before the post-lunch rush. Shorty and I pretty much have the place to ourselves, so I pull her to a stop before we reach the counter. Her rubber soles squeak on the blue-and-white-tiled floor.
“You’ve been feeling like you don’t belong here, right? That’s why you want to leave?”
As we stand, facing each other, I hold both of her hands in mine, and she playfully swings them, rocking each like two hammocks in the wind.
Hannah’s mouth opens as if she’s about to answer me, and then she closes it. She starts again, curiosity clear in the way her eyebrows crease. “Yeah … basically.”
“Well, I have definitive proof that youdobelong here. Come take a look.” I beat away all the doubts about my idea and just decide to go for it. There’s no room for hesitation or second-guessing if I’m going to get Hannah to stay.
Slice ’Em Up reveals their delicious options by putting them inside a large glass display case. Silver stands hold all manner of pies—apple, cherry, key lime, chocolate, banana. I could go on for a while.
Halfway down the middle row, in the exact center, I spot the caramel pear. Or at least, that used to be how they referred to it. Today, the paper label has another name in swirly script.
The Hannah Smalls.
“That’s my name. In front of that pie.” Her voice comes out robotic as her fingers press against the glass.
“Yep.” I’m trying not to take her lack of reaction as any kind of sign. “And it’s not just for today. That’s forever. Until the end of time, that is officially The Hannah Smalls. Now, you tell me, would someone who doesn’t belong here have a pie named after her?”
The owner of the shop, Maggie, who I got to know really well yesterday, pretends to read a receipt up at the register, but I catch her watching us out of the corner of her eye. She’s almost as emotionally invested in Hannah’s reaction as I am at this point.
“What? How? I’m pie? I’m a pie?” There’s a hint of something in her voice. Maybe something good.
“You’re a pie.”
