"Do I look like a foot rest to you?"
Ben’s question had appeared about three seconds after she’d dropped down onto the sofa, large pizza box in hand. Almost instinctively she’d kicked her legs up and across her best friend’s lap, as if she’d done it so often that to use him as her footrest these days was just about second nature to her. “Dude quit whining, it’s a small price to pay for some of my pepperoni pizza. Right?” Zelda didn’t even look up at him when she spoke, too excited to start tucking into the pizza to properly acknowledge his protests. Her eyes practically lit up with glee once she’d lifted the lid off of its box, revealing the freshly cooked, twenty four inch, stuffed crust, steaming circle of heaven. On cue, her stomach rumbled, and she slid a few fingers beneath a slice to start pulling it apart. “It’s not like my feet smell or anything. Tatum’s do though -- they’re so cheesy, I don’t get it. Probably the sports stuff.” As she spoke, she lifted the pizza slice and shoved it in his direction, a large grin across her face. She was already pulling up another piece, this one for herself, before her friend had even taken his from her hand. “I’m pretty sure I’m wearing your socks, actually.”
