Relativity

by Dodd, Lauren

  My phone chirps so I pull it out of my back pocket and check it. It’s a text from Nat asking if I can open the shop for her. I don’t have any excuse why I can’t, even though I know that likely means I’ll be alone with Knox for an hour. Maybe it will be good for us to test ourselves even though I can’t help but wonder what I’m facilitating in the process. I consider pressing Nat for details but decide against it, knowing it will be easier to get the truth out of her in person.

  Sure, I fire back, glad I’m already dressed. Today I’m wearing a jean skirt and my hot pink Mozzarella T-shirt with black lettering and picture of a giant slice of pizza on it.

  “I’m sorry to cut this short but I have to go to work early,” I tell Karen.

  “Oh, no problem,” she says, rising to leave.

  I scribble down a quick note to Dad about leaving early, and the dinner Karen brought, then follow her out, locking the door behind us.

  I wave good-bye to her and slide in the mini-van. I turn the key over but nothing happens. I try it a few more times but still nothing. I jump out, prepared to wait until Dad gets home to bum a ride. I hate that he is going to have to deal with car problems when I know he can barely handle figuring out how to microwave his dinner.

  “Car troubles?” Karen asks, retrieving her mail.

  “Yeah, the van is dead,” I say, cringing at my choice of words. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to use that word again without thinking of Mom.

  “Hop in, I’ll drive you,” she offers, punching her key fob and unlocking her Mercedes SUV. I don’t hesitate, not wanting to be late.

  “Thank you so much,” I tell her as we pull into Mozzarella.

  “Are you okay to get home?”

  “Yes, my friend can bring me home,” I assure her.

  “Okay, but you can always call me if you need anything,” she says, handing me one of her business cards. “That has all my numbers on it.”

  I wave gratefully and let myself into Mozzarella with the key the Parson’s gave me last week.

  The door slams behind me and I lock it again, just like I promised Mr. Parsons I would for safety until the shop actually opens.

  “It’s about freaking time, slacker,” I hear Knox yell from the back.

  I breeze in, grab my apron, and quickly tie it around my middle then start washing my hands. “I’m sorry, my car wouldn’t start,” I offer as an excuse.

  “Shit, Rip, I didn’t know it was you. I was just giving Natalie hell. She’s been a ghost lately.”

  I don’t disagree with him but get busy pulling premade homemade crusts out of the walk-in refrigerator like I’ve seen them do at opening. Knox is stocking the plastic bins with ingredients, a process that will be repeated many times through the night. I never had a clue how many pizzas go out of this place before I worked here.

  I boot up the computer and check for online orders. Most people are too lazy to even call in a pizza order when they can just fire one off from their tablet. It seems quiet, too quiet, then I realize that the jukebox that is normally going non-stop is getting a much needed nap.

  “We’ve got an order for ten pizzas and they want them delivered at five,” I say, trying to be normal.

  “No problem,” Knox says, firing up the pizza ovens. I print out the ticket for the pizza order and stick it on the first silver clip hanging above the ingredient assembly line so that Knox can see it.

  “Can I help you?” I ask, not making eye contact.

  He eyeballs the ticket, then says, “How about you take the four pepperoni?”

  “Okay,” I agree, thinking that maybe we can succeed at this friend thing after all, especially if I don’t focus on how the muscles in his biceps strain against his T-shirt sleeves. I swallow hard and force myself to look away.

  Knox busies himself with his part of the order as I set out my first crust. I’ve never actually made a pizza before but I watched Natalie on Tuesday. How hard can it be?

  I start by sprinkling corn meal on the back of the crust then flip it back over and start ladling sauce on it. I use the back of the ladle to spread the sauce smoothly but it doesn’t look like it does when Natalie does it. I’m about to reach for the cheese when I hear Knox snicker.

  “What?” I ask, self-consciously.

  “You’re doing fine. Just let me show you something,” he says, moving behind me before I can protest.

  He takes hold of my right arm with his right hand and guides it to the ladle to scoop up more sauce. Then, he dumps it in the center of the crust and guides my hand to make concentric circles from the middle to the outside of the crust distributing the sauce perfectly. His other hand rests firmly on my left hip. I thought I knew how much I had missed being near him, but I didn’t have a clue. There is no way we’ll ever be able to be just friends. I know that now.

  “That’s it. Slowly,” he says, his breath in my ear, driving me wild. “Now, add a tiny bit of cheese.” He helps me put the ladle back into the sauce pot and grab the small plastic glass in the cheese bin and shake it over the crust. Then, placing both his hands over mine, he plunges them into the pepperoni bin. I grab several stacks of pepperoni as our fingers intertwine. He presses himself against me and I can feel his crotch against my butt. He presses his lips against the back of my neck and I’m instantly wet.

  The sensation makes me gasp. He knows I can’t resist him. Ever so slowly, I rub my jean-skirt covered butt up and down against him. He grips the counter, rocking against me, the pepperoni tossed on the crust haphazardly, forgotten. I won’t fight this anymore.

  He nibbles my neck as I rub faster and harder against him. His right hand travels down my skirt and under it. His thick fingers urge my panties to the side. I spread my legs apart making it easier for him to go where he wants. He’s rubbing my nipple with his left hand, while kissing my neck. His fingers have found my throbbing center but he’s teasing me by rubbing them in a circle near my sweet spot.

  “Please,” I beg him, lifting the back of my skirt so he’s rubbing his jean-covered hard-on against my panties. I’m so insane with desire that it never occurs to me to be worried that someone could walk in on us, changing the course of both of our lives forever. That’s what Knox does to me, makes me lose all normal perspective.

  He expertly glides two fingers inside of me and any rational thought flies out of my head. I’m just a machine, grinding against him, needing release. I throw my head back on his chest and reach back to grip his hips, riding his fingers until I feel my body start to spasm.

  “My God, I love to make you come,” Knox says, his voice husky with desire.

  “Come for me, Knox,” I beg, riding the waves of my orgasm as I feel him start to jerk convulsively with his own. He slides his fingers out of me and grips me tight around my middle.

  “I love you, Ripley,” he whispers in my ear. I close my eyes and let his words swirl around in my mind, savoring them.

  Some part of my brain not still riding a endorphin high recognizes the sound of a key turning in the front lock. I jerk away from Knox and adjust my skirt while he grabs an apron and ties it around his now wet crotch and rushes over to wash his hands.

  I try to resume strategically placing pepperoni on the pizza still in front of me while trying to look normal.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing in here?” Natalie shrieks.

  I jump back and clutch my chest, ready to blurt out an apology and beg for her forgiveness.

  “My dad would freaking kill you if he caught you preparing food without gloves on,” she clarifies, tossing me a pair of plastic gloves. She disappears back out the front.

  “Thanks, friend,” Knox whispers, a grin spreading over his adorable features.

  Instead of my thirst for Knox being quenched by our little escapade, and being terrified of almost being caught, I’m actually craving him more. “Take me to your house tonight?” I whisper, making sure Natalie isn’t in ear shot. I know I should feel guilty about going behind her back but she is up to som
ething herself. I know it isn’t the same thing, but I’ll take any morsel of justification I can get to be with Knox.

  He nods vigorously, looking pleased with himself. “You’re never going to want to leave,” he promises, and I know he isn’t lying.

  ******

  It wouldn’t be possible for this shift to go any slower, I think, delivering my umpteenth pizza of the night. I rush around gathering garbage and dirty plates, even though we have a busboy for that, just to keep myself busy. I’m spraying down a particularly nasty booth, some people let their children behave like absolute Neanderthal’s, when the sound of guitar strumming catches my attention. It takes me a minute to realize that it isn’t coming from the jukebox.

  When I turn around to see why a hush has fallen over the restaurant, and where this strange music is coming from, I see six guys wearing matching black shorts and those ridiculous T-shirts that look like tuxedos. Tate is in the middle of them, strumming a guitar and looking right at me. One of his friends is holding a bouquet of roses and the other four are each holding up signs that combine to say, ‘Go to prom, Ripley?’

  Oh, dear God. Now Tate is singing. I can’t make out the words exactly but it is all about us having a great time at the prom. I’m frozen in place, terrified. I’ve heard about these promposals but never thought I’d have to worry about being a recipient. I think I might puke.

  Natalie comes tearing through the restaurant and starts pushing me toward Tate. I catch Knox’s eye and he looks bewildered. I can’t imagine what he must think. I would do anything not to hurt him but then Tate stops singing and focuses his dazzling green eyes on me, and says, “What do you say, Rip? Go to prom with me?”

  And I just can’t say no in front of all these people so I nod my head up and down. I know Tate was just being sweet but when I notice Knox storm out the back door, I’m also pissed that I was put on the spot. What kind of girl is going to say no in front of all these people? You’d have to be Satan.

  Natalie is jumping up and down, shrieking with excitement. I just feel more weight pressing down on my shoulders to do the right thing. Too bad I don’t even know what that is anymore.

  ******

  Just as soon as the excitement over the promposal dies down, the restaurant explodes with carry-out orders and tons of Saturday night walk-ins. I don’t have time to do any damage control with Knox because I’m too busy trying not to screw anything up.

  By ten p.m., things finally slow down. I’m going to ask Knox for a ride home knowing that Natalie won’t suspect anything because we both get off at the same time since I worked for her. Then I can explain how on the spot I felt when Tate asked me to prom. We’ll figure everything out even if we have to sneak around a little while longer.

  Actually, I’ve given it a lot of thought. If we sneak around all summer, Natalie is leaving for SIU in August. Once she gets some distance and adjusts to college, we could tell her. She won’t be happy but she is going to change too, so I think she’ll take it better. Then Knox and I have the rest of our lives to figure out what we’re going to do. I don’t care what my future holds anymore as long as he’s in it.

  “Where’s your car?” Natalie asks, beating me to the punch.

  “Wouldn’t start. I had to bum a ride off my neighbor,” I confess.

  I see Knox stiffen just a bit as he restocks the pizza boxes. I know he won’t just volunteer the ride because he’s pissed and probably because he doesn’t think I want him to.

  Natalie starts firing off a text and I swear that girl is going to have nothing but mangled stubs for hands someday. It chirps back at her and she looks up grinning.

  “Your chariot will be here at 10:30,” she giggles.

  My stomach drops realizing that she texted Tate. I have to play along or she will know something is up.

  “Sweet, thanks,” I say, watching Knox out of the corner of my eye.

  Natalie darts off to give a table their check as Knox makes eye contact for the first time all night since the promposal. He’s furious.

  Sorry, I mouth. I’m already making a plan in my head to sneak over to Knox’s as soon as Tate drops me off, I just hope he isn’t too mad because I need him more than ever now.

  I gather my things and say good-bye to everyone, noting that Knox doesn’t even glance my way.

  I meet Tate at the door and hop into his pick-up. “You didn’t have to do this,” I say.

  “Are you kidding? I wanted to. Besides, I was just home playing Xbox, bored out my mind.”

  He heads toward my house and for a few minutes we try to make small talk. We run out of mutual topics quickly and settle in to a comfortable silence. I watch him drive out of the corner of my eye.

  His spiky blond hair is hidden by his backwards Cardinals ball cap and he’s still wearing his ridiculous tuxedo shirt. I smile, realizing how incredibly sweet the promposal really was and knowing that I would be buzzing with excitement if I hadn’t already fallen in love with Knox.

  “Can I come in?” he asks, pulling into our driveway. He sounds so timid when he asks that I almost cave and ask him to watch a movie but I’ve got to make things right with Knox. I know it is super shitty of me to ditch him after he drove me home but that’s Natalie’s fault.

  “I’m just so tired tonight,” I lie, nearly buzzing with the thought of being with Knox.

  He pulls off his hat and runs his hand through his hair, nervously. “All that stuff earlier was my mom’s idea,” he admits, gesturing to the flowers in my hand.

  “To ask me to prom?” I ask, wondering if the universe could really be so on my side today that Tate is going to tell me he really wants to go with someone else. He would make my life easier in one fell swoop.

  “God, no. I wanted to ask you to prom a month ago, but I was too chicken. I’m just talking about the whole song and flowers thing in front of everybody. I knew you were too nice to say no in front of all those people and that’s why I ended up doing it like that.”

  That was kind of a shitty admission, but I guess I have to give him credit for telling the truth. I stare out his windshield at our lit up front porch where Mom’s porch swing is moving ever so gently in the light breeze.

  “You don’t have to go with me if you don’t want to,” he forces out, turning his face away from me.

  This is the moment where I can fix everything. I can rush right over to Knox and tell him that I told Tate I didn’t want to be his date and he won’t be mad anymore.

  But when Tate turns his disappointed face back to mine I can’t think of anything except the comment that Mom made the first time I told her that I had a crush on Tate.

  If I had to handpick someone for you, I couldn’t have picked better.

  We had just gotten done seeing a romantic comedy and we were talking about love. I just blurted out that I was crushing on Tate and that was her response. She had known Tate since he was a Cub Scout that used to come around peddling popcorn but now I wish I would have asked her exactly why she thought he was such a good choice. I guess I’ll never know but I can’t help feeling that she’s guiding me somehow, that there’s a reason Tate didn’t ask me to prom until after I’d been with Knox. Maybe Mom is trying to keep me from making a mistake. Maybe this promposal happened for a reason so that I would quit living dangerously with Knox.

  “I’m going dress shopping tomorrow so we better be going to prom together,” I tease.

  “Yes,” he shouts excitedly, pounding his palm on the steering wheel. I jump out of the truck and wave good-bye, knowing I made the right decision. I dig through my purse for my keys as I approach the front porch. As I slide my front door key into the lock, the familiar need to be close to Knox comes over me. I know what I’m risking but I just can’t stop.

  I have to see him. I have to explain. I’m not dumb enough to think that we won’t end up in bed together, that’s what I want. I know it’s wrong even though I can’t really remember why. I clasp my keys and run back to my car, not caring how wrong it is,
I want to be with him.

  I stick the key in and turn the ignition. Nothing. I had completely forgotten that my car was dead, the word making me shiver. I collapse over the steering wheel, knowing that the universe has spoken.

  Chapter Eight

  “Tate is going to eat you up when he sees you in that dress,” Nat purrs, as I model my prom dress for her.

  I twirl in front of the full-length mirror a few times, wishing I could get back the excitement I had when I tried this dress on a few weeks ago. Mom really would have loved helping me get ready for my last prom. I shake off the sadness and concentrate on figuring out what color heels to look for, anything to distract me from the reality that I will never have another mother-daughter shopping day for the rest of my life.

  “You’d look good in that red one over there,” I tell Nat, gesturing toward a sexy strapless mermaid style gown across the store.

  Her phone chirps for the eighty-seventh time today and she throws me an apologetic look. “Sorry, drama at the restaurant,” she says, referring to Mozzarella.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, nonchalantly. I haven’t thought about Knox for almost thirty whole minutes and I want to know if it is something to do with him.

  “It’s just my parents. They can’t agree about anything. Mom keeps ordering cheaper ingredients and Dad is about to have a fit because he doesn’t want to sacrifice quality or he thinks all our customers will jump ship. In a nutshell, they haven’t fucked in about six months so they are driving each other and everyone around them cra-cra,” she blurts out.

  “Do you think they’ll get a divorce?” I ask. I knew things weren’t good between Nat’s parents, but I never realized it was this serious. I have noticed that Mrs. Parsons is around even less than I originally thought. She is never at the restaurant, but I’m starting to think that is the way Mr. Parsons likes it.