Why Can’t Life Be Like Pizza?
The Pizza Chronicles Book 1
by Andy V. Roamer
Genre: YA LGBTQ Contemporary
RV is a good kid, starting his freshman year at the demanding Boston Latin School. Though his genes didn’t give him a lot of good things, they did give him a decent brain. So he’s doing his best to keep up in high school, despite all the additional pressures he’s facing: His immigrant parents, who don’t want him to forget his roots and insist on other rules. Some tough kids at school who bully teachers as well as students. His puny muscles. His mean gym teacher. The Guy Upstairs who doesn’t answer his prayers. And the most confusing fact of all—that he might be gay.Luckily, RV develops a friendship with Mr. Aniso, his Latin teacher, who is gay and always there to talk to. RV thinks his problems are solved when he starts going out with Carole. But things only get more complicated when RV develops a crush on Bobby, the football player in his class. And to RV’s surprise, Bobby admits he may have gay feelings, too.
Why Can’t Freshman Summer Be Like Pizza?
The Pizza Chronicles Book 2
RV, having successfully completed his freshman year at the demanding Boston Latin School, is hoping for a great summer. He’s now fifteen years old and looking forward to sharing many languid summer days with his friend Bobby, who’s told him he has gay feelings too. But life and family and duties for a son of immigrant parents makes it difficult to steal time away with Bobby.
Bobby, too, has pressures. He spends part of the summer away at football camp, and his father pushes him to work a summer job at a friend’s accounting firm. Bobby takes the job grudgingly, wanting to spend any extra time practicing the necessary skills to make Latin’s varsity football team.
On top of everything, RV’s best friend Carole goes away for the summer, jumping at an opportunity to spend it with her father in Paris. Luckily, there is always Mr. Aniso, RV’s Latin teacher, to talk to whenever RV is lonely. He’s also there for RV when he inadvertently spills one of Bobby’s secrets, and Bobby is so angry RV is afraid he is ready to cut off the friendship.

End Chap 7

I did it! I made a move, and Carole responded! Whoa! Whoa! I shouldn’t get too ahead of myself. It was just a little step, kind of pathetic really, and I’m blushing when I write this. But it was something.

We did another computer job, helping a lady with her internet connection. It was a beautiful afternoon, so Carole suggested we take a walk through the woods that are adjacent to the ballpark in our neighborhood and then go get some pizza. I couldn’t help wondering if she was giving me another hint.

     The walk through the woods was kind of romantic. It was a beautiful fall afternoon. The sun was shining, the leaves were turning a million colors, and the world seemed like a good place. We sat down by a stream and gazed at the water gurgling over the rocks.

     We both sat there quietly, leaning on each other, lost in our own thoughts. Then Carole moved away from me a little and said, “RV. Where are you, RV?” She was staring at me with the funny look that made her eyes sparkle.

“Huh?”

Carole giggled. “You’re so far away. We’ve both been far away. Let’s come back here. Here is nice, isn’t it?” She moved back a little closer to me.

I hugged her more tightly. Okay, this was it. I leaned over and kissed her on the lips.

Her lips felt soft and spongy, like marshmallows. Except they weren’t sweet. They didn’t taste like anything. I pulled back, and we were staring at each other again.

“You’re a nice guy,” Carole said. “I really like you.”

“I really like you,” I answered. The skin on my face turned hot. I’m sure I was blushing so hard I created new shades of red.

Carole leaned over, wrapped her arms around me, and kissed me so hard, I fell backward onto the grass. Carole fell on top of me and continued kissing me so hard my teeth began to hurt.

Then I felt her tongue against my lips. I’d read about French kissing and knew that you were supposed to let the other person’s tongue go into your mouth. The thought of letting someone’s else wet tongue in my mouth grossed me out for a second. But this was Carole. It seemed like the right thing to do, so I opened my mouth.

Carole’s tongue went right inside, pushing against my tongue, probing around my teeth. I did the same thing, sticking my tongue into her mouth. It was like a sword fight with tongues. I wonder if there’s an app that tells you the rules of French kissing. Like whose tongue goes first? Or how much time do you have in the other person’s mouth before it’s the other person’s turn in your mouth? I made a mental note to ask Ray. He’s always on his cell phone even at dinner, which makes Dad mad. But if anyone would know about such an app, it would be Ray.

Carole and I lay there kissing and hugging each other. I was starting to get a little tired, but Carole didn’t seem tired at all. Her tongue was all over my mouth and my lips, and she was running her hands through my hair.

I figured I better do the same thing, so I started running my hands through her hair. Then I moved my hands over her back, the way James Bond does in his movies. I love James Bond movies, watch all the old ones, and wish they made new ones more often. Now there’s a guy who knows how to kiss. I tried to remember all the moves he does with the ladies, but I’m sure my movements with Carole were pretty pathetic compared to his.

Carole finally took her tongue out of my mouth and lifted her head. Her eyes still had that sparkly look in them, though, and she was staring at me for what seemed like hours. Then she finally rolled off me. We lay side by side, looking into the blue sky.

“What are you thinking about?” Carole asked finally.

“Uh, nothing much,” I answered. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing much.”

Carole giggled a little. “Actually, I was thinking this was the best French kiss I’ve ever had.”

I wanted to ask her how many French kisses she had before, but didn’t dare.

“How about for you?”

“Oh, yeah. It was great compared to the others,” I lied. Am I supposed to admit to her that I’ve never come close to any kind of kiss with a girl, let alone a French one?

Finally, both of us sat up. “I guess I should be going home,” I said, brushing the leaves off my clothes.

“Yeah, I should too,” Carole said.

We walked home, not talking too much. I wonder if Carole was thinking about all her French kissing experiences. I was thinking about the opposite—my total lack of kissing experience—in French or any other language.

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Andy V. Roamer grew up in the Boston area and moved to New York City after college. He worked in book publishing for many years, starting out in the children’s and YA books division and then wearing many other hats. WHY CAN’T LIFE BE LIKE PIZZA? is the first novel in THE PIZZA CHRONICLES. The books follow the exploits of RV, the teenage son of immigrants from Lithuania in Eastern Europe, as RV tries to negotiate the four years of his demanding high school, his budding sexuality, and new relationships. To relax, Andy loves to ride his bike, read, watch foreign and independent movies, and travel.
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