(You can listen to this piece on S3E6 of the podcast)
Kyla’s stomach growled so loud that she was sure everyone in the library’s group study room heard it.
Her study partner, Jay, looked up from his notes. “Want to order something?”
“Sure,” she said, pulling out her phone. “How about pizza?”
He made a face. “Yuck.”
Kyla made her own face of surprise. “What do you mean? Everyone likes pizza.”
“Hate the stuff,” Jay said, flipping through the pages of his notebook.
“Wait. You don’t like bread and cheese?” Kyla asked.
“I’m a celiac and lactose intolerant.”
Kyla’s forehead crinkled even more. “What about the sauce? Surely you like red marinara sauce.”
Jay shook his head. “Nope. Acid reflux.”
“There are gluten-free pizza’s you know—with like a garlic white sauce, no cheese,” Kyla added quickly.
“Garlic gives me the heebee jeebees,” Jay said, finally landing on a page in his notebook.
“Fine,” Kyla said, a bit louder than she intended. “What about a vegan alfredo, gluten-free, no cheese pizza?” She’d leaned away from the table they had been studying at for the last three hours. Her arms were tight across her chest, her full lips tightened into a thin line.
“I’m just not into alfredo either,” Jay said, glancing up from his notebook at his study mate. “White colored foods are weird. Like cauliflower and egg whites.”
“Are you serious?” Kyla exclaimed, eyes widening.
“And scallops. Scallops are super weird,” he added.
“We can’t be friends,” Kyla declared, putting her fists to her hips.
“Because of the scallops thing?” The corner of Jay’s lips curled in a smirk.
Kyla rolled her eyes and Jay let loose a hearty belly laugh.
“You’re so easy to rile up!” he said, grabbing his cell phone. “So, what type of pizza do you want? My treat.”
Kyla smiled, body relaxing as she leaned back towards Jay’s direction. “Hawaiian.”
Jay put his phone down. “You’re joking, right?”
“No, it’s my favorite,” Kyla said, eyebrows knitted in confusion.
“You’re impossible,” Jay said, shaking his head slowly. “Fruit on pizza should be illegal.”
“You should be illegal,” Kyla shot back. “Just order the pizza.”
"Touché,” he said, smirking to himself as he leaned back into his chair to start their order.
