Page 24 of A Slice of Love

“I’m gonna go talk to him.”

“You’re what? No, Julian!” I shove at him with one hand, pushing the pie under his nose. “I’ll share my pizza. I promise. Just don’t go talk to him.”

He grabs at my shoulders, holding me back at arm’s length. “Hush. I’ll be right back.”

He swoops by and is through the door faster than I can jump on his back with this pizza in my hand.

“Julian!” I hiss after him, and I swear I hear him laugh at me.

“Hey, man, wait up!” he says to Jonas.

I, Frankie Callahan, do something naughty, something IknowI shouldn’t be doing—plaster myself to the door and eavesdrop.

“Frank doesn’t like me very much, huh?”

Julian chuckles. “You could say that.”

I glower at him through the door.

Don’t bother pretending to be shocked, Jonas. You’re a terrible actor.

Well, that’s not true.

He spentmonthsacting like he liked me, and I fell for every one of his charms.

“Not like I don’t deserve her wrath, but it’s…”

Their voices trail off, and I push my eye up to the peephole, annoyed to see them walking away.

Julian looks back and winks.

The jerk knows I’m spying on them.

I fall back against the door, feeling drained like I haven’t in years.

The last person I expected to see when I opened the door was Jonas Schwartz, the boy I fell in love with and gave my virginity to.

The same boy who got what he wanted then never spoke to me again.

A small part of me owes a lot of thanks to Jonas for what transpired between us after our weekend together—he gave me the courage to chase my dream of going to art school.

Sure, a lot of it had to do with the fact that I couldn’t possibly spend another four years attending the same school as him. Even though I lost my virginity to a liar, a master manipulator, a complete and utter jerk…I was the winner.

But he still hurt me. Crushed me.Changedme.

I hate him.

And yet…I miss him.

I miss his laugh. His smile. Those stupid, crude superhero doodles he’d draw. I miss the dimple in his chin and the way he’d always wipe his hands on his pants when he was nervous.

I miss his touch…his roughened, calloused hands, worn from years of playing football and working at his dad’s auto shop during the off-season.

I miss knowing him like nobody else did.

A lot of people thought Jonas had it all because he was the star of the football team, but they didn’t know him like I did.

He worked hard for what he had, put his all into the game, into practice, into his dad’s shop. He never took any of it for granted either.

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