“Miles has half an hour to get here. After that, the pizza’s free.”

A few minutes later, a scooter with a big blue trunk on the back drives into the park.

Sky grabs my wrist and looks at my watch. “Bang on time. Typical Miles. You see? He’s a punctual gay guy.”

My stomach’s churning, like I’m about to take an important exam.

“Stop it.” Alissa quickly straightens her T-shirt. It’s a small gesture, but I can tell she’s nervous.

Miles brakes in front of our bench and gives Sky a wave. When he lifts the visor of his helmet, I see two bright-blue eyes, like Alissa’s. But there’s something cold about these eyes. They have nothing to do with the Italian sea, but are more like icy water. I get a weird feeling that I can’t quite identify.

“One pepperoni pizza?” The boy takes out a pizza box. The scent of melted cheese makes my mouth water.

“Yep. It’s for us.” Then Sky points at Alissa. “She’s paying.”

“You think?” Alissa looks at the boy. “Hey, Miles.”

I don’t like it when people know my name and I don’t know theirs. Feels like I’m down 1–0.

I’ve seen this girl before. She meets Sky after work sometimes. I noticed her immediately because she has the same blue eyes as me. Dad used to say I was the only one except him with blue peepers like this, but he was wrong. This girl’s eyes are hypnotic.

Did Sky tell her my name?

The girl smiles. “Want a slice?”

I hesitate, because I really need to get going, but something about her voice makes me stop.

It’s only then that I notice the other girl on the bench. She’s leaning forward slightly, with her straight hair hanging over her face like two curtains. She doesn’t quite seem to belong.

“It’s almost time for your break, isn’t it? Come on, have some.” Seems the girl with the blue eyes knows not just my name, but my work schedule too.

I can see part of her bare neck.

What would it feel like to kiss that soft bit of skin?

I’m startled by my own thought. After Karla, I made up my mind never to feel anything for a girl again. It’s easier to reject them all than to let anyone get close. Because when they get close, they start asking questions. Questions I can’t answer.

I know I should go, but somehow I find myself taking off my helmet and sitting down beside her.

“Here.” The pretty girl passes me the box. As I eat my slice, I dare to sneak a closer look at her. There has to be something about her that’s disappointing, something that’ll help me to forget about her later.