She wrinkles her nose. “As long as it doesn’t touch my half.”
We sit in a booth at the front window, and I breathe in the yeast-and-spice-scented air, my mouth watering. Sylvie’s black hair is streaked with purple today. She’s wearing a leather vest and arm warmers that look like black spiderwebs. Even so, our waitress makes Sylvie look like a Girl Scout. She’s emo to the extreme, the makeup around her eyes so dark she looks bruised.
“Keep the sausage far left of center, okay?” Sylvie tells her.
I quietly tap my foot to the beat of the impatient tune Iris hums and stare out the window as Sylvie places our order.
When the waitress leaves, Sylvie’s raspy voice cuts into my thoughts. “How are you and your mom doing?”
I turn away from the window to face her. “We miss Dad.”
“Yeah,” she says, looking sympathetic. “Maybe we could do a movie night? Get your minds on something else? I pop an awesome bag of Orville Redenbacher.”
Recalling the blood-splattered scene on her movie’s cover, I say, “Thanks, but I’m not sure we’re up for it. There’s something else that I need your advice about, though.”
“Someone wants my advice?” Sylvie laughs. “I’ll help if I can. Spill.”
I glance around the café and lower my voice. “It’s guy stuff.”
Sylvie’s eyes widen. “Okay, who’s the asshole?”
“Nobody. It’s just . . . I, um, sort of kissed Wyatt.”
“You kissed the Goob?” She laughs, then shrugs and says, “Hey, he is sort of cute. Totally not my type but he’s got his own thing going on, you know? Part dork, part jock.” She studies me in a way that makes me think she’s trying to picture Wyatt and me together, then nods her head slowly. “You and the Goob. I sort of dig it, actually. If you want to hook up with him, I say go for it.”
Heat shoots up my neck like a rocket. I nibble my thumbnail.
“Uh-oh.” The silver stud in Sylvie’s eyebrow catches a beam from the overhead light and winks. “That bad of a kisser, huh?”
“No! I mean it’s just . . . Wyatt and I have always been friends. Just friends.”
Grabbing a glass container next to the napkin holder, Sylvie sprinkles Parmesan cheese onto her palm then licks it off. “If you’re confused about it, kiss him again and see how you feel.”
“Won’t that just make it worse if the person I really want to kiss is someone else?” I draw my lower lip between my teeth.
Sylvie lights up. “Whoa. Who are we talking about?”
“The guy at Dad’s memorial,” I say.
“No shit. Mr. Intense?”
“Ty.” Just saying his name makes me feel as if my whole body is smiling. “Ohmygod, Sylvie! Mom hired him to shingle our roof and I can’t think straight when he’s there. Today I met him at the creek behind the springhouse. We had so much fun and—I don’t know. I mean, Wyatt’s making me crazy, too. He—”
The emo waitress brings our pizza and saves me from having to say more.
When we’re alone again, Sylvie says, “Hello? Are you listening to yourself?” She turns the pizza so that the sausage side is nearest me, then lifts a slice of veggie. “Judging from the way you just gushed all over yourself, I think I know the answer to this, but who are you really jazzed to kiss again, Ty or the Goob? And by jazzed, I mean your toenails catch fire just thinking about it.”
The peppery aroma of the pizza suddenly makes me queasy. I lean back, my appetite gone. “I don’t know. Whenever Wyatt and I are together, I notice things about him I never did before, and I start wondering how it would be if we were more than friends.” I tell her about the cupcakes. “He’s so sweet, and nobody makes me laugh like he does. Plus, we know pretty much everything about each other, so I don’t have to worry what he thinks.”
“He’s safe, you mean.” Sylvie looks disappointed in me. “Safe is a cop-out reason for being with someone.”
A little defensively, I say, “But Ty is only going to be here a couple more weeks at most, then I’ll probably never see him again.”
“So, you’re saying you’re going to settle for Wyatt?”
“No! Is that how it sounded?” I slump back in the booth. “God, I’m so messed up.”
“I don’t know what to tell ya,” Sylvie says around a mouthful of pizza. “But if you ask me, this side trip with Wyatt was inevitable. I’ve never