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The doorbell rings and Lonnie all but leaps as she gets to the door, flinging it open excitedly. To her surprise, a short girl with purple hair with the normal pizza delivery attire stands there, chewing gum and looking somewhat harried and mostly annoyed.
Lonnie can’t help but stare for a couple moments.
She looks up at Lonnie, grimacing and shoving the box into her hands, but she’s not perturbed. “You’re Li Lonnie, right?” She asks.
The Asian simply nods, still dumbfounded.
“That’ll be ten dollars and seventy eight cents.” The girl says, and Lonnie squints to read her name card. Apparently her name is ‘Mal,’ which Lonnie knows means ‘bad’ in French. She’s a bit confused, but she likes the name well enough. Her voice is higher pitched than expected from someone who looks so badass.
“You’re pretty.” Lonnie rambles, her brain going into autopilot. “Do you have any tattoos? You look like the person that would.” She asks, her eyes glued to Mal as she fishes for money in her pocket.
Mal looks slightly unimpressed, blowing another bubble, a bright pink glob of it bursting as she chews it somewhat loudly. “No, I don’t have any tattoos. Are you going to pay, or what?” She asks impatiently.
Lonnie huffs, she knows Mal must have other deliveries. She pulls out the appropriate amount of money, setting the pizza on the table next to the door.
She makes sure to hold her hand and give it a little squeeze once she hands her five dollars extra for tip. Lonnie doesn’t miss the tiny smile on the purple-haired girls’ lips as she heads back to her car.
...
From then on, Lonnie orders pizza for everything. She’s exchanged small talk with Mal before, always asking her nosy questions about her day or where she goes to college, casually of course. She receives some more smiles, though they do seem a bit sporadic, and Mal makes sure to cover them up hastily.
Lonnie rocks on her heels as she waits on the couch for Mal, her leg bouncing up and down a bit anxiously. She holds the correct money order in her hands, along with a cleverly disguised slip of paper with her phone number.
She stumbles to her feet once the door is opened, greeting Mal with a shaky smile, and the bubblegum blowing girl raises an eyebrow at her.
“Less eager, I see. Have I lost my touch?” Mal asks cleverly, holding her hand out for the money, and Lonnie barely registers shaking her head.
“No, just…” Lonnie bites down on her tongue as she shoves the money into the girls’ hands, trying not to expose herself just yet.
Mal looks a bit concerned, almost, as she hands the Asian her pizza. Lonnie accepts it and scampers back inside with a fast wave.
She shuts the door and locks it behind her with a sigh. What if Mal doesn’t call her? What if she gets someone else to deliver her pizza? What if she accidentally loses her number? A million more questions flood Lonnie’s head. More than usual, that is.
She flops exhaustedly onto her couch, pulling out her phone and then the pizza box. Underneath her bill, there’s a tiny stick of gum. Lonnie thinks maybe Mal dropped something in it.
She picks it up anyways, unfolding the wrapper, and, to her surprise, is greeted with ten digits on the inside in scrawled handwriting. The name ‘Mal’ is written above the number, and Lonnie drops the stick of gum in excitement.
Her happy squeals could probably be heard from the purple-haired girl as she pulls over to the side of the road, pulling out her own phone with a smirk.
...
“Real classy, Lonnie.”
“I could say the same to you, Mal!”