Free Return (Coming Home #1) by Meli Raine

corner of a piece of pizza bigger than my head. Sicily’s Pizza is the hometown college favorite. For three years I’ve suffered without. No more.  
    “Vicki Santisays ‘hi.’” Vicki’s parents own the pizza place. She’s worked there since, I don’t know, kindergarten? Seems like it. I loved sitting near her in school because she always smelled like oregano and basil. Made my mouth water and want more pizza.
    “How’d she know I’m in town?” I ask through a huge mouthful of luscious perfection.
    Amy eyes my anchovy, artichoke, feta cheese, banana pepper and sausagepizza. “Oh, she guessed,” she says, laughing.
    I want to join in, but my tongue is doing a dance. A happy, tasty dance of joy. Ordering a big old Sicily’s and sitting around in our fat pants is our thing. Me and Amy.  
    Next up, pints of ice cream and entire seasons of Sons of Anarchy . We know how to party.
    “I can’t believe The Claw showed up on your first day of work!” Amy mumbles through herown mouthful of feta and tomato pizza.
    “First minute of the job ! Like she was stalking me,” I mumble back. A long, stringy piece of mo z zarella ricochets down my chin. My tongue finds it, winds it around and I eat it.
    Amy laughs. “You and that tongue. Still tie cherry stems with it and it alone?”
    I blush. “Yep.”
    “Find a guy yet who can appreciate that?” She wiggles her eyebrows and leers.
    The pizza nearly chokes me. “Um, nope.”
    “You still haven’t—ah, come on! Of course you...” Her voice goes still. “Carrie?” she asks softly.
    All the joking has faded. I feel stupid. Twenty- two and a virgin?
    A virgin who can tie a cherry stem with her tongue?
    What a waste , my roommate Janie had said when I showed her and her friends back in Oklahoma City . No guy’s ever gonna benefit from that .

    “ Nope.” I’m shutting down, but I don’t want to. Talking is what I need. Bearing my soul. Pouring out how I feel about life and my dad’s death. My new job and, yes, Mark. I still haven’t told her anything about him. She knows all about our past. I’m dying to tell her about his visits to my trailer.  
    Amy is slumped on my tiny sofa, dressed like me, her hair messed up and her makeup wiped clean.
    W e’re back to being Carrie and Amy, and that’s all I want.
    “You’re still a virgin ?” she asks, breathless. “I’m not.”
    “You had sex in ninth grade with Zach Burham, Amy. Of course you’re not.” And of course I know, because she cried in my arms afterward. Didn’t have sex again for two years, until she fell in love with Dane Crawford. Captain of the basketball team. H e was six-six. Did I mentionAmy is five feet even when she stands up straight?
    They were cute. Until she caught Dane having sex with another girl when she went to visit him at his college. Long distance relationships are great. Amy learned a lesson:
    Don’t surprise your boyfriend with an unexpected trip to his college on a Friday night.
    I’d held her in my arms while she cried then, too.
    “No one, though?” Amy prods.
    “Not anyone worth...that,” I say. Too true. The men who worked midnight shift at the check processing center weren’t exactly the dating type. Pale and older, with bellies and balding heads, they looked like my dad’s generation. Except my dad was way healthier.
    “Yeah, that is pretty important. What about Mark?” she sputters.
    “You know we never did it!” I give her a look that asks WTF?  
    “Buthe lives here now,” she adds, jerking her thumb toward the cabins.
    “You know that?” I ask, and then I stop before I say another word. Of course she knows that. Everyone in town probably knows that Mark lives in Brian and E l aine’s cabins. Just like they know I’m back in town.
    And the gossips have already started wagging their tongues.
    A wave of smallness and shame wipes my appetite away. In Oklahoma City , no one knew me. No one cared. I never told my roommates where I went every Saturday