It’s still dead in here. Not one single person has turned up for a pizza.
“It’s good that it’s quiet in here tonight,” I say echoing my earlier thoughts. “No fans to hassle you.”
He smiles. “I paid for it to be quiet.”
“Huh?”
“I bought the place for the evening.”
“You bought Pizza Hut?”
“Not Pizza Hut as a whole, Tru,” he grins. “Just this one, rented, for the evening.”
“Why?”
“So we wouldn’t be interrupted.”
“Oh.”
I can’t believe he rented out the whole of Pizza Hut so we could have dinner together here, because it was, once upon a time long ago, our place.
I know he can afford it, easily, but still, it’s crazy sweet.
“Where did Stuart take the car to?” I ask, just thinking of it now, and actually why he was waiting outside to take it.
“He just took it back to the hotel. He’ll bring it back when we need it.”
“And your security guy?”
“He’ll be at the top of the stairs.”
“Oh.”
“Hey, do you remember those matching friendship bracelets you made us with that kit your mom bought you that one Christmas?” he says putting his beer down.
I wonder what made him think of that.
“Oh God, I really was lame.” I cover my face with my hands, my cheeks burning.
“I thought they were sweet.”
I stare at him surprised.
“Do you still have yours?” he asks.
I do. But if I tell him I always kept mine because it was just one of the many things that reminded me of him and I could never part with, might sound as lame as it actually is.
“I still have mine,” he says as if reading my thoughts.
“You do?” Now I’m surprised.
“Yes.”
“Where is it?” I look at his wrist.
“In LA at my house – so do you still have yours?”
“Yes.” My voice is lower.
“Where is it?”
“Here, in the UK, in my tiny flat.”
He laughs. “You’ll have to show it to me later.” His expression suddenly turns serious.
He wants to come in my flat? My stomach starts doing acrobats across the room.
“Okay.” I cough nervously, my face flaming.
“How are your Mom and Dad?” he asks.
“Good,” I smile. “They still live in Manchester, in the same house.”
“You’re kidding?” he grins.
I shake my head, no. “And my dad’s teaching music now to underprivileged kids.”
“He always was a good man. Is it a charity based organisation he works for?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s it called?”
“Why?”
“Because I want to donate some money to it. If it wasn’t for your dad, I would have never picked up a guitar let alone learned how to play one, and I wouldn’t be where I am right now. I owe him a lot.”
I fill with pride for my dad. He is the best.
“It’s called Tuners for Youths.”
“Cool,” he says. “I’ll make the arrangements tomorrow.”
“My dad will be made up when I tell him.”
“You don’t need to tell him the donation was from me.”
I kink my eyebrow in confusion at him.
“I don’t want him thinking I’m being a flashy bastard.”
“He wouldn’t think that, he’s really proud of you.”
He looks up, surprised. “He is?”
I nod. “He follows your career, like I do. Probably more so – you know how he is about music.”
“I bet he wasn’t proud of the drugs … and women.” His lips turn down at the corners.
I have the urge to reach out and smooth my finger across them, but I don’t, instead I reach out and put my hand on his arm.
I see his eyes go to it, then he lifts them back to mine.
“He was worried about you, like I was. But he’s really proud of everything you’ve achieved. And to be honest, I think he was quite impressed with all the models and actresses you’ve been pictured with,” I laugh, trying to come off as light-hearted, but if anything my own words sting me.
Moving my arm away, I pick my beer up. “I bet your mum’s real proud of you.” I take a swig of my beer.
He shrugs. Glancing down at his beer, he starts to pick at the label. “She’s proud … sure, she just worries a lot – you know.”
“I know, but she’s your mum and it’s to be expected,” I say.
I know Susie feels like she let Jake down over the years. That she should have forced his dad out of their lives. Then what happened to Jake never would’ve happened.
I overheard Susie talking to my mum one day. I never told Jake though.
He shrugs again, and I get the feeling there’s something more, but I don’t press it, and then the waiter appears with our pizza.
After that we just fall into conversation like we’ve never been apart.
We talk school and childhood memories.
He tells me stuff about the band and his label, which bands he has signed to it.
I tell him about my time at university, living with Simone and my job as a music journalist at the magazine.