Tuesday nights at Pizza Vendetta are pretty damn slow, so I make six Pepperoni Zambonis for the freezer. And I sweep and mop and scrub countertops and make sauce and do every stupid thing I can to keep out of Geno’s way. Things get tough when Geno notices we’re not doing anything, because then we end up doing stuff like dusting ceiling fans. I’d rather mix pizza sauce.

I’m filling Parmesan cheese shakers behind the counter when David comes in, looking panicked.

“She’s coming for you.” He’s panting like he’s run five miles to warn me. She wasn’t in school today, which was OK with me. I wasn’t sure what I’d say to her, but I guess I’ll have to figure it out. Yesterday sort of seems like a dream, between busted ghoulies, the police, Epic, Lou, and Donna Russell. I forgot about Rory.

“Slow down, crazy man. You’re two seconds from a heart attack.”

He frowns at me while he recovers. “She’s really, really angry. I’d watch yourself.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“She’s mad that you’re mad at her about the paper doll.”

“Oh, well, that makes perfect sense. I shouldn’t be mad that she’s picking on my sister?” I throw David a pepperoni from the toppings container, and he catches it in his mouth. Hopefully Geno didn’t see that.

“Nobody said she made sense. Can I have another?” And he catches the next one I throw.

Then the door opens and Rory is there. And she’s doing her best to be sure I’m sorry.

She’s dressed to make me remember all the good stuff, of course—tons of cleavage and a very tight skirt—and she comes in with Matt Havelock, Carter Stone, and Brandon Anderson, who you’d think would be in jail, but they’re not. Maybe their folks bailed them out. All of them cut me to ribbons with their murderous stares while they walk to a booth. I’m sure they figure I’ll crumble at the sight of their wrath.

David watches them. “I think you’re supposed to crawl back to her now, dude. Or at least feel a little bad.”

“I’m sure.” I go back to filling Parmesan cheese shakers.

Jen comes over with their order. “They want to know if anyone else can make their pizza.” She rolls her eyes. “I told them I’d ask.”

“Let me check.” I go in the back, and Geno’s in the can, so I knock. “Geno, can you make a pizza?”

“Not now, Frankie. My gut’s acting up.” Which means he’s in there smoking. I can hear the fan.

“OK.” I go back up front to Jen. “Nope, just me. Geno’s in the can.”

David laughs. “You tried.”

Jen goes back to their table, and they frown and make noise, but Jen eventually writes something down and brings it back to me. “Large pepperoni.”

“Easy enough.” I start slapping things down, and dig out the best-looking pepperoni Zamboni I’ve made, just to give them something extra. Why not be nice? Turn the other cheek, all that. But when I’m laying down the pepperoni V, I also make a big F and a big U.

David can see what I’m doing from his side of the glass barrier, and he smiles. “Think they’ll notice?”

“I have no idea.” I shove the pizza in the oven.

He nods. “Text me when you’re almost done with work. Let’s skate.” And he’s out the door.

I start cleaning up, because we’re only open for another half hour. When I come up from putting the flour under the counter, Rory’s standing there.

“Your pizza’s almost ready.” I try for cheery but I sound like a dick, so I point a spatula at her. “It was really, really shitty to steal Lou’s necklace, not to mention her face.”

She sniffs. “You don’t even like her. Why are you sticking up for her?”

“Because even if I don’t like her, she’s still my sister.”

“You’re a hypocrite.”

“Maybe so. But I get to mess with her. Not you.” And I turn my back on her to carry a stack of dirty dishes to the sink.

When I come back, she’s at the table with Matt, Carter, and Brandon. Their pizza’s ready, so I take it out of the oven, slice it up, and have Jen deliver it, with another pitcher of pop on the house. I put the money for the pop into the till, so I don’t forget, and then I finish cleaning up.

They don’t stay long to eat their pizza, and they don’t see the F U because they’d have started throwing the pizza if they had. When they’re leaving, Rory comes close to the glass partition.

I try and smile. “What do you want?”

“You’re a sucky kisser.” Her face is scrunched up like she’s eating a lemon.

I burst out laughing. I can’t help it. “Is that the worst you can do?”

She’s flustered, like she can’t believe I didn’t burst into flames or tears at her insult.

But I’m not Max Ledermann.

“Whatever, Rory. See you later.” I wave, and she turns around in a huff. Matt, Carter, and Brandon form a little posse behind her, like they’re her slaves. She’s never hung out with theater guys before. I predict it will last three days.

I text David: Done in about ten minutes. Glide on by.

And he does, and we go, and the night smells good.