See you later, kid.
——————————
Sent from the iPhone of Mitchell Walsh
While I was texting Mitch, Devin pulled out his own phone. “What do you want to eat?”
I looked up, putting my phone down. “You’re not staying,” I tried once more.
“Why not? I’ll pay.” He smiled, and as much as I hated to admit it, his cheeky smile could get anyone to do anything.
I narrowed my eyes, giving him no indication that I was susceptible to his charm. “Fine, but you’re buying me a Diet Coke.”
He chuckled. “Deal. So what did you want to eat?”
“I don’t care. I’m not paying.”
“Yes, but you are eating it, so if you don’t want me to call the Indian place down the street, you’d better say something.”
“No, please! Not that one! Anything but that!” I leaned forward and grabbed his phone from his hands and ended the call.
Devin chuckled again. “Fine, what do you want?”
“Stefano’s?” I suggested, handing him his phone.
“Good choice. Olives and pepperoni?” he asked as he was no doubt looking up the number from the Internet on his phone. Lucky duck. The only feature my phone was capable of besides making phone calls was text messaging.
“Yeah. Can we get another one with onion and bacon?” I asked, and he raised his eyebrows. “Mitch likes it. Stop looking at me like that. I’m not going to eat two entire pizzas.”
“Maybe I should get a third, you know, just in case.”
“I resent that,” I said, punching him in the arm.
He laughed. I’m sure my punch was more like a tap to him. “All right, I’m sorry. You know I didn’t mean it.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just order the pizza. Oh, and don’t forget the garden salad for Em.”
“Oh, yes, I can’t forget the salad,” he said sarcastically. “Does that girl ever eat anything other than a celery stick?”
I laughed. “I don’t know. Maybe you should ask her tonight.”
“Yeah, right. After what you pulled earlier, she’s going to be thinking I want to hang out with her in a non-‘she’s-my-best-friend’s-little-baby-sister’ kind of way.”
I smiled as he put the phone to his ear and began talking to the restaurant. I turned to my computer and lost myself in a new game, determined to beat Devin’s score.
“They said twenty minutes,” Devin said.
“Uh huh, okay,” I mumbled. Seconds later, he jerked me toward him, and my hands slipped from the keyboard. “Damn it, Dev! You ruined my game.” I glared at him.
He was trying to hide a smirk. “I’m sorry, CJ. I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did!”
“All right, so maybe I did mean to mess you up, but it’s only because you’re ignoring me.”
“You’re Mitch’s friend, it’s not my responsibility to keep you entertained.”
He shook his head and feigned sadness. “Are you saying you’re not my friend? I’m just Mitch’s friend to you?”
I rolled my eyes exaggeratedly. “You can be so annoying sometimes, Dev.”
“But that’s why you love me.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. I tolerate you.”
“You’re a regular cynic.” He chuckled.
“And that’s why you love me ,” I joked with him.
“Finally, you understand.” He smiled back, nudging my side.
I shut my laptop and climbed off the bed. “Come on, let’s go kill some brain cells.”
“TV?” He sounded hopeful.
I sighed and shook my head. “It’s a wonder you haven’t gone completely mental already. I still can’t believe you want to come home and watch television after you’ve been working with it all day.”
“Okay, technically I don’t work with ‘television’ itself.” He smiled mockingly. I just rolled my eyes. “I work for a television show, but I work behind the scenes, making the magic come to life.”
“Mixing sound in a studio,” I stated blandly.
“Hey, it’s what brings everything together.”
“I have to admit, you do make it sound very nice,” I admitted. “The actors aren’t bad either.”
“Nice? That’s like saying I look pretty, rather than handsome. Nice is not an adjective you use to describe sound mixing. Brilliant, maybe, but not nice,” he said with no hint of a smile.
I chuckled. “Fine. The work you do is brilliant, Dev.”
“Wow, is Christy Joy actually complimenting me?” He laughed.