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“Come on. We’ve got to start somewhere.” I nudge his shoulder.
“Fine.” He looks up at me and flicks through the stack of cards I give him.
“What’s an example of abiotic and biotic factors that can affect earthworm populations?”
We quiz each other for the next hour. He gets everything right, and I can’t think straight, but we have fun — we both laugh at some of the made-up questions Jeremy asks.
“I’ll go and grab us a drink. Want anything else?”
“Nah, I’m good. It will ruin the pizza.” He raises his eyebrows and smiles.
I wish everyone could see this side of him: carefree and happy. It’s a mile away from the version he gives at school. But I also love that it’s only mine to see, nobody else’s.
I grab a tube of crisps and a couple of cans of Coke. We carry on studying, and if I could, I’d do this every week, even the studying.
Finally, when the lists I’ve made are exhausted and my head feels fried, Jeremy changes the subject.
“Ready for that pizza?”
“Hungry? You should have taken the snacks when they were offered,” I joke, but we head downstairs. “Okay, okay, the most important question of the night. Ready for it?” He looks at me quizzically. “Pineapple on pizza. Yes or no?”
“Um, hell yeah. Why not,” he answers.
“Oh, phew. I thought I’d have to kick you out and never speak to you again.” I shove him, wanting to have those little moments of physical contact, and then walk into the front room. I take a seat on the sofa and grab the menu I left on the coffee table.
“Is your mum joining us?”
“She’s working.”
“Oh, I thought she was here?” He looks around.
“Mum!” I call. “Come and meet Jeremy.”
A moment later, she comes in, wearing her thick apron, her fingers stained grey from the polish.
“Hey, Jeremy. I’m Becca.” After a brief discussion about pizza, she asks us to order her a pepperoni before she leaves us to it.
“She seems cool.”
“She is. Have you chosen?” My stomach tells me I want garlic dough balls, but is garlic a good idea? I’m getting way ahead of myself, but do I want our second kiss to poison him with my bad breath?
“Yeah, here. I have an app. I’ll get these.”
“No, it’s fine,” I protest, but he just shakes his head.
“Seriously, Anna. Let me. What do you want?”
“I’ll get a veggie deluxe with extra pineapple. And do you want to split the dough balls?”
“Got it. Yeah. Sounds good. Drinks?”
“We have soda.”
“Okay. And done.” He puts his phone on the table, sits back on the sofa, and twists towards me. I mirror his position.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. You don’t need to worry about the test. You’ll ace it.”
