[ WP ] A man orders a `` cheese pizza with no crust '' from a local pizza delivery joint as a joke . Unbeknownst to him , that pizza joint is a drug front and he just placed an order for a kilo of cocaine .

TOMMY DELIVERS A PIE 
 
 `` You're driving like shit, dude,'' I told Bobby as he steered into the final series of hairpin turns before Yellow Springs Scenic Boulevard met the gravel mouth of my driveway. `` I told you we should have taken an Uber.'' 
 
 Bobby shrugged. `` We're almost there, Jess,'' he replied. `` It's fine.'' 
 
 `` Tell that to the first responders,'' I muttered. 
 
 But he was right. Despite the numerous plastic flutes of champagne we'd ingested at Frankie's graduation party, Bobby was driving all right. He always did -- Bobby was Mr. Dependable, which annoyed me in a vague kind of way. Which was typical. Bobby had been vaguely annoying me since kindergarten, where we'd met on the monkey bars. 
 For the past two months, since right around the time I finished school and headed north to Maine for my shitty, dead-end career as a gofer for a small-time pol ( town selectman ), he'd been overseas with the Peace Corps, and that was the biggest chunk of time we'd spend apart since we were collecting Garbage Pail Kids and armpit farts. Bobby and I had basically been inseparable all our lives. 
 
 I rubbed my forehead. Along with the moderate alcohol buzz I'd gotten from the celebratory champagne, I was developing a headache. I needed to eat. Frankie's party had been all drinks, no buffet. Which I found perplexing. Who the hell throws a party and provides nothing to nosh on? 
 
 `` I'm hungry,'' I told Bobby. `` Who the hell throws a party with nothing to nosh on? `` 
 
 Bobby feathered the brake, made the turn into my driveway. Gravel squealed and popped under the tires. 
 
 `` Frankie's parents do, I guess.'' 
 
 `` Yeah,'' I said. `` Guess they do.'' 
 
 Bobby was acting strangely. Had been ever since he'd gotten back from Thailand. I thought the party might loosen him up a little, the salve of seeing old friends and reliving old memories, all that kind of stuff, but he seemed unaffected by any of it. He seemed distant. I wondered if this was the new improved Bobby, the grown up, Back-Home-From-The-Peace-Corps Bobby -- just as Frankie was now a lawyer planning to specialize in environmental law, the ink presently drying on his newly-minted Law Degree. We all were New and Improved Versions of our high school selves. Did that include me? I did n't feel particularly improved. 
 
 `` You okay, Bob?'' I asked, suddenly frightened for no good reason. 
 
 He drifted to a stop at the end of the drive and shoved the lever into park. He looked over at me. His smile put in an appearance, at last: that old Bobby McGee Rainier smile, lopsided and dear to my heart. I felt lighter then, just as suddenly. Maybe things had n't changed so much, after all. 
 
 `` Yup,'' he answered. `` Five-by. But I'm hungry, too. And also pretty drunk.'' 
 
 `` Drove pretty good, though.'' The gravel ground under our soles as we headed for the door. 
 
 `` Always could.'' 
 
 `` Ai n't that the truth.'' I dragged out my keys. 
 
 The cabin smelled damp and a bit musty, as it usually did in early September. My family had n't used it regularly in years, but my father kept it up rigorously, former Marine that he was, anyhow, and it had become a tradition for all of us to meet up here a couple times a year for some kind of relaxation time -- myself, Bobby, Frankie, Liz Donnelly and her brother, a few others. But for now, it was only Bobby and myself. No one else had been able to take the time. 
 
 Discomfited, I made some kind of a face and moved to turn on some lights. I fluffed the sofa pillows, went to the old but kickass stereo system and queued up some Modest Mouse discs. The place needed attention. The media shelves were dusty, the corners adorned with wispy cobwebs like old worn lace. 
 
 I ran out of things to do and turned to Bobby at last, my head buzzing away with the remains of the champagne. He smiled at me and moved closer, which is what I'd simultaneously hoped for and feared. 
 
 `` Just us,'' he said. He pushed some errant hair out of my face, smiling his Bobby McGee smile again. `` Remember the old days? The times when it was just us?'' 
 
 `` Of course. `` I closed my eyes, momentarily giving in to the warmth of his calloused hand on my face. `` Those were very good times, Bobby. Very good times that were very long ago.'' 
 
 The room trembled with some kind of barely withheld feeling. Isaac Brock sung about a wooden heart that dripped with pitch. 
 
 I took a breath and moved away, breaking whatever spell had fallen over the place. 
 
 `` Hungry, Bobby,'' I said, moving toward the kitchen area of the open-space cabin. `` Need something in my stomach. I could hurl, seriously. `` 
 
 He only looked at me for a moment, something unreadable in his dark eyes. I felt a pang of dismay. Then he smiled and followed me, and everything was okay again. For the moment. 
 
 `` This place is emptier than empty, `` Bobby said after a quick perusal of the kitchenette area. `` Do n't you people ever eat?'' 
 
 `` No one has been up here since we got together on the Fourth, Bobby,'' I told him. `` What do you expect? `` 
 
 He chewed a ragged thumbnail, studying me. Nail biting. That was a new one. Bobby used to be meticulous about his manicure, to the point where certain d-bag peers would taunt him about it. I always thought it was sort of cute, myself. 
 
 `` Pizza,'' he concluded finally. `` Pizza is always the right answer. `` 
 
 `` Ooh yes, I'm down,'' I said immediately, my alcohol -fugged brain already envisioning biting into a greasy slice. `` Call em up for delivery, and we do n't even have to leave.'' 
 
 `` Will they deliver out here, in the williwags like this?'' 
 
 `` Yes. We ordered pizza on Fourth of July. Remember? That weird little place right near the highway exit was open. Papa Giorio's, something like that. `` 
 
 Bobby found a Yellow Pages on the table near the door and squinted at it, flipping pages. 
 
 `` Vai,'' he concluded. `` Right off the exit, convenient blah blah, open 24 hours. That's the place, all right. I recognize the logo.'' 
 
 Vai? Where the hell did I get Papa Giorio's? I laughed out loud. 
 
 Bobby cast a considering glance at me, something dark and appraising in his eyes. I felt uncomfortable, thought again of how much we all had changed. It was a little creepy. And I did n't want him to touch me again, either, I told myself. 1995 was a long time ago. 
 
 `` Okay, Vai,'' he said in a soft voice. `` That okay with you? `` 
 
 `` I.... I did n't bring any cash with me,'' I said uncertainly. I sat down on the sofa, hugged one of the throw pillows close. It smelled faintly of mildew and old beer. 
 
 `` I'll pick up the tab, Jess,'' he said. `` Do n't worry about that.'' 
 
 I sat still, watching him as he pulled out his phone and dialed. He put the phone to his ear and waited for what seemed like a long time. Then his eyes changed focus, and he spoke. 
 
 `` Yes! I'd LOVE to place a delivery order, thanks. Oh, go on -- YOU'RE very friendly. No, you -- okay, enough of that. Onward.'' He winked at me. `` I'd like a large veggie pizza with thin crust, please. Two Coke Zeros, and -- do you have Coke Zero? Oh yeah?............ WOW, that's quite a list you've got there, you guys have -- oh, well it's LOVELY to make your acquaintance, Renaldo, I'm Philbert. Philbert Periwinkle, yes, I'm.... P-E-R-I-W-I-N-K-L-E, yes, Renaldo. Thank you! Are n't you just... And one more thing, Renaldo, if you please. I'd like a large cheese pizza, no crust.'' 
 
 I snorted laughter, clapping a hand over my mouth to quiet myself. 
 
 `` No crust, that's right, Renaldo,'' he went on, winking at me again. `` You bet....yes, no crust, just slop'er right onto -- exactly! Exactly, Renaldo.... Well, that's a very reasonable total, sir!! Great service, great prices, who could ask for more, you guys are... oh, go ON, Renaldo. You're too much. You have a beautiful night, now. No, YOU have a beautiful -- good bye, Renaldo, I'm ringing off now. Good night, sir, you are absolutely lovely.'' 
 
 I surrendered to laughter as Bobby hung up his phone. His plummy-chummy-guy voice never failed to slay me. 
 
 He sank down beside me on the sofa, grinning. `` NO idea why I did that, exactly. Just felt right. Think they'll ignore me? Call me a prank? `` 
 
 I laughed again. `` It's a safe assumption, I think.'' 
 
 `` Damn,'' he said, chuckling. `` I really AM hungry, is the thing. Renaldo loved me, Jess. I regret nothing. `` 
 
 `` We'll have to go out and pick something up.'' 
 
 `` We ca n't, `` he said seriously. `` We're too busy.'' 
 
 I could only laugh. `` With what??'' 
 
 `` This,'' he said, and leaned close. 
 
 My stomach was suddenly filled with butterflies. But they were dancing in sunlight. 
 
 Hours later, I awoke on the sofa, head aching vaguely. I was still draped across the cushion where I'd fallen asleep, limbs entertwined with Bobby's. He was gone. The sofa cushion had a butt-sized indentation in it, barely warm to the touch, but that was all. 
 
 Someone was rapping on the cabin door. 
 
 `` Bobby?'' I called out, bewildered, brain fuzzed with sleep. 
 
 More rapping from the cabin door. 
 
 `` Shit,'' I hissed. I hoisted myself off the low sectional, feeling dopey and unreal. I headed for the door. ( To be continued ) 

