"Hey babe," I slid into the seat next to her, "You willing to share any of that pizza?"
I gave her smile and winked. She just rolled her eyes and handed me a piece of the 'individual sized' pizza she had ordered. Individual sized my ass, these couldn't feed anyone. But somehow people still bore through it all and still managed to give to broke teenagers, such as myself.
"Chell, you are such a pig. Begging for food, are we now?"
She gave me a light-hearted punch on the arm. Despite her tiny size she was strong as hell. Or I was weak as hell. Probably both.
"Do I ever go a day without scrounging something off of you? Unless Marrione here is too aristocratical to deal with peasants, in which case I shall take my leave."
I fake bowed and faked leaving, only to run back for a surprise French-fry robbery! But, since this is routine for us, Marr knew what I was doing. She smacked my hand, declared that I was a 'bad dog!' and made me stop causing a scene.
Of course since this had been our tradition since we met, the customers here were accustomed to us.
Marr and I have been best friends since before the universe was created (which translates to: before I can remember) and we will probably end up arguing at the same retirement home. Adorable.
Mrs. Jemimah, the owner of the pizza shop, came over to our booth and ruffled my hair. She was a kind woman in her early sixties who had taken over her father's business when he passed. Apparently Mr Mah's Pizzeria had been family owned since the Jemimahs came to America.
"Chell! I haven't seen you since yesterday. We've missed ya, here's a shake, on me. I'll get two straws, that way you can share."
She winked, disappearing behind the counter to make our drinks. I groaned internally. This again. Don't get me wrong, she was a lovely lady, but she liked to play match maker. While I sulked quietly, Marr was being less discreet.
"When is she gonna get that we don't like each other that way!"
The fake leather of our seats squealed as she fidgeted and pulled at a stray red hair that always fell in front of her face. It was probably stuck there due to the constant poking and prodding it was subjected to.
"Damn hair, why can't it stay calm?"
"Because it knows you would be lost without it to tug on."
Smack!
Joke or not, I was going to have a bruise in the morning.
