Free Back To Us by Teresa Roman Page B

desk.
    “I thought of a way you could make things up to me for slamming the door in my face.”
    “Excuse me?” Justin sat up straight in his chair and looked at me with an expression of surprise on his face. That was good. Maybe I’d get him to agree to what I wanted before he could think of an excuse to say no.
    “You have to come to lunch with me. Pizza is my favorite, but I’ll let you decide where you want to go.”
    “Jess.” He’d given me a nickname—that had to be a good thing. “I don’t think I’m up for much standing or walking yet.”
    “We’ll take a cab, my treat. All we need to do is get you out to the curb. You can do that, right?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Oh come on, Justin. Don’t make me beg.”
    “Okay.” He shifted in his chair and leaned forward resting his elbows on his desk. “On one condition.”
    I frowned. “What condition?”
    “That you tell me why—why all of a sudden you’re being so nice to me.”
    “What are you saying? That I wasn’t nice to you before?”
    “You’ve never invited me anywhere. I asked you to come to a barbecue at my house, you didn’t want to. Every time we’ve done anything together it’s been my idea.”
    “What do you want me to say, Justin?” I was starting to get frustrated and my pride didn’t like the beating it was receiving from him.
    “I want you to say you don’t feel sorry for me.”
    I looked him straight in the eye. “I don’t feel sorry for you.”
    Without another word Justin got up. I stood from my chair and the two of us walked together until we made it outside and into the taxi he hailed. A few minutes later the taxi pulled up in front of a pizzeria. We walked inside and ordered a pie to share. One medium pizza, just cheese.
    “You sure you don’t want any toppings?” Justin asked.
    “Nope. I’m not a topping person. Except for jalapenos, but we’re not at the right pizzeria for that.”
    “I thought I was the only one who liked my pizza plain.”
    Justin reached for his wallet. I pulled his hand away from his back pocket before he could get it out.
    “Jess, it’s not a big deal.”
    “Yes it is. You don’t want me feeling sorry for you, well, I don’t want you to feel sorry for me either.”
    I gave the cashier enough money for the drinks and pizza we’d ordered and Justin and I took a seat and waited.
    “So since we decided we’re friends again, I thought we should agree on something,” I finally said.
    “What would that be?”
    “I think you need to start trusting me.”
    Justin looked like he was about to choke on his soda. “I can’t believe you of all people just said that.”
    “Why?”
    “Do you trust me?”
    “Sure I do.”
    “Then why did you make me beg you for your address when you needed help with your brother?”
    “You did not beg.” Justin gave me a skeptical look. I sighed. “Fine, I admit it. I didn’t want you to see my dump of an apartment. Especially after seeing where you lived.”
    “You really think where you live makes a difference to me?”
    “If you lived in my apartment, would you be inviting people over?”
    Our pizza arrived before Justin could answer. I reached for a slice and took a bite savoring the saltiness of the cheese.
    “It’s my turn to ask you a question,” I asked as I put my half eaten slice down.
    “Okay, shoot.”
    “Is the reason you’re living with your parents because of your legs?”
    That faraway look that Justin sometimes got returned. He looked away from me and I patiently waited for his answer. “Yes,” he finally said.
    “I’m sorry.” It was lame, but it was the only thing I could of to say.
    “It is what it is.” Justin helped himself to a slice of pizza. The faraway look was gone, but so was his smile. I shouldn’t have asked the question. What was I thinking?
    “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. . .”
    “It’s okay.” Justin leaned forward. “There’s something I’m wondering.”
    “What’s