Something Changed: Day 7

Word Count: 42,066

Summary of Events:

Luke ended up having his piece of pizza stolen by one of the 'it's friends, whose piece he stole in retaliation before being warned off by a regular, who told him the 'it' — whose real name was Arsenio — was actually a member of a gang, as were most of his friends. Later he ducked out of a game to use the washroom and ended up encountering a young woman he'd been teamed with on the whipped cream night and had thought was cute; he was flattered that she thought him similarly cute, and was grateful to have exchanged names with her. He told Finn about her, and got annoyed when Finn called her his girlfriend — even though he secretly wanted her to become exactly that, and was actually slightly eager for Friday to come. When it did, Luke was quite delighted to find her in the crowd of kids once he'd gotten his pizza . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

“Good to see you again,” she said. “Do you like this stuff much?”

“No,” Luke replied. “Not that it’s the worst either.”
“No, it isn’t,” she agreed. “But it’s certainly not the best.”

“Your mom probably makes that,” Luke said.

“Yes,” she replied.

“My mom, on the other hand, makes the worst pizza,” Luke said.

“Well you don’t look very Italian, I must say,” she said.

“No,” Luke replied. “I don’t really know what kind of heritage I have. I think it’s mostly kind of British, but nobody’s ever told me, nor have I ever asked.”

“My mom’s fully Italian, my dad is three quarters French-Canadian, one quarter Indigenous,” she said.

“Oh,” Luke said. That explained why she didn’t really look Italian.

“Even though she’s not French, Dad says that her sugar pie is adequate,” she added.

“Your mom sounds like the sort who cooks stuff without boxes, cans, and cardboard tubes,” Luke said.

“The first place to look for her is the kitchen,” she replied. “Not your mom?”

“No,” Luke replied. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her make anything from scratch.”
“Not everyone knows how to cook,” she said.

“Her mom does,” Luke said. “I don’t know how she missed the cooking classes, or if she’s just decided it’s easier to buy something in a box and chuck it in the oven than to go through all the work of preparing something different.”

“That’s a possibility,” she agreed.

Luke nodded. He wished Mom would make something different. As much as he liked French fries, chickens strips, fish fillets, and pizza, he had to admit that they could get boring after awhile.

“Do you attend this church?” Ella asked.

“Unfortunately yes,” Luke replied. “I don’t recommend it. It’s like the devo time on steroids with a bunch of endless lighter-waving nonsense songs to make it even longer.”

“Mama wouldn’t let me come,” she replied. “Even if she doesn’t make anyone go to Mass with her every week. We have to go to Mass at Christmas, and I think if any of us were to go to any other church we’d be thrown out of the house.”

“So you probably go to the Catholic school then too,” Luke said.

“I do,” she replied. “I don’t mind it.”

Luke nodded.

“Are you going to get a second piece of pizza?” she asked.

“No,” Luke replied.

“Then maybe let’s consolidate plates,” she said.

Luke gave her his plate, as she didn’t look like she was giving him hers, and a few moments later the young man Luke had seen her with the week before approached.

“You don’t want seconds, do you?” he asked her.

“No,” she replied, handing him the plates.

He departed, discarding the plates he’d been given, and disappearing into the crowd going for seconds.

“That’s my brother,” she said. “Orien.”

“You mean, as in oriental?” Luke asked.

“Yes,” she replied. “He prefers to go by Ryan.”

“Oh,” Luke said, feeling relief he hoped wasn’t showing. She didn’t have a boyfriend; that meant she was just as available as he was. It was even better than he’d guessed it would be.