Page 4 of Convergence

When the pizza came, we sat at the island together chatting about pizza in our hometowns and other good pizza we’ve had. It was small talk, but a necessary part of getting to know each other. Listening to small talk used to make my skin crawl with anxiety and secondhand embarrassment. Listening to these guys talk was entertaining. I was invested already.

“My mom makes her own dough and freezes it, so every Friday she thaws some and we all make our own personal pizzas. God, she and my dad had one of them margarita pizzas one time and you would have thought it had changed their damn lives, it has been the only pizza they’ve eaten in years,” Everett said with a laugh.

“We had a chain pizza place near my house growing up and that’s all we ever would order. But we took a family vacation to Chicago and tried deep dish and we’ve been chasing that high ever since. So, I get what your parents are feeling,” Nate added, gesturing with a drooping slice of pizza.

“There was a nice place that did wood-fired pizzas near me,” I said after gulping in a breath. The guys were patient with me as I formed my sentences. “They had one with peppers they pickled themselves and it was the best.”

“Do you think Daisy is a deluxe pizza girl or a plain cheese pizza girl?” Nate asked suggestively. I didn’t understand what his innuendo meant, but I knew he’d said one.

“Nate,” Everett said in a warning tone like he was scolding a child.

Nate glanced at him with a grin.

“I can ask her,” I said after a moment, fighting a grin. “She wrote her phone number on my handbook.”

“Ohhhh!” Nate shouted excitedly. Everett gave me a smile that was mostly in his blue eyes.

They were so different in their natures. While Nate was louder and more animated, Everett was quiet and reserved in a calm and confident way. Nate seemed to be always making some sort of sound, whether it be talking or moving around.

“So, what do you guys think about this project?” Nate asked a little while later.

I shifted in my seat. I wanted their take on this as well.

Everett cleared his throat and threw his crumpled napkin on his plate. “I think it might be too good to be true.”

“But what could be the catch? We stay inside, get our work done, and we come out as published Doctors. Doctors with their degrees fully paid up. We would walk out with less debt than we thought we’d be in, and we’d be getting paid this whole time with very few bills. I mean…” Nate trailed off to prove his point, his arms wide in gesture.

They looked to me. “What do you think, Eva?” Everett asked.

I thought for a moment, and they waited as I gathered my thoughts. “I think Professor Hoffmann quoted enough of my research from last year to make me think he was serious in selecting us as participants.” I paused and swallowed a few gulps of air. “But it feels like maybe I’m waiting for the catch.”

“What would the catch even be?” Nate asked. “What, we have to pay interest on what our education costs? Or do we have to work for the university for a year after we graduate? All the money earned from the publication goes back to the school?”

Everett made a face like he was considering what Nate was saying. “You make a good point. Do any of those things make you want to not do this?”

“No, I mean, it all makes sense. I would totally give up the potential earnings from the publication for the guaranteed free degree,” Nate replied, writing “Winner” in big letters on the box for Maria’s Pizzas.

I picked up the flier for the restaurant and used a Truman Tiger magnet to stick it to the side of the fridge. “I agree. The degree is more important than publication earnings. And if they want interest back, then I would ‌work out a payment plan.”

“I think I do, too,” Everett said with a sigh. The crease was back between his brows.

My dad had always said if something was free, then you were the product someone was buying. I couldn’t ask him if he felt that statement applied here since I was bound by the NDA. This was going to have to be my ‌decision. And if the guys were all in, then I couldn’t think of a reason for me to back out.

“Is it decided then?” Nate asked, raising his soda like he was waiting to knock his can against ours.

“It’s decided,” Everett nodded and raised his soda to Nate’s.

“Decided,” I echoed, and raised my own.

Nate knocked his can against ours and gave a merry “Go Tru Tigers!”

Everett and I chuckled.

We were quiet as we cleaned up the pizza, Maria’s Pizzas a clear winner with her Greek lover’s pizza with olives and a pepperoni pizza with crispy pepperoni.

“So, Eva,” Nate started while he rinsed the plates. “Professor Hoffmann let us know you have a problem with talking. What’s that about?”

He asked in a way that was, like Daisy that morning, without judgment and with genuine curiosity. I knew the difference as I had been the recipient of both many times.

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