“Because elephants never forget,” Toby said, like this was the most obvious answer in the world, as she yanked open the door. “And I’m not going to forget either.”
“We got the menus,” I reminded her as we ran up to the counter. The restaurant was half-filled already, and I hoped it wasn’t going to affect how fast they were getting to-go orders out.
“Even so,” Toby said darkly.
“Hey!” a blond girl in a CAPTAIN PIZZA shirt said as we approached the counter. DAWN, read the lettering in military typeface on her T-shirt. “Can I help you?”
“Picking up for Walker,” I said as I glanced down at the clock on my phone. “Large pie with toppings on three-fourths of it, and one-fourth plain.” I had been the one placing the order, so this had been my attempt to try to get some pizza I could actually eat, since I wasn’t going to touch the sausage-mushroom-onion combo that Toby swore to me was actually really good.
“And we need a bottle of soda,” Toby said, slapping her hand on the counter while I silently tried to tell her to take it down a notch. “And napkins! All the napkins you have!”
“Okay,” Dawn said, looking a little freaked out as she turned to look at the to-go boxes stacked above the oven.
“I’ve got the soda,” a voice behind us said, and a girl with short dark hair came out from where she’d been sitting in a booth. She wasn’t wearing a Captain Pizza uniform, and it took me a moment to recognize her as Emily Hughes.
“Hi,” I said immediately, then hesitated. I knew who she was, and I was pretty sure she knew me, since I’d been in AP Physics with her last year. But I mostly knew her because everyone knew who Emily Hughes was—she was half of the school’s golden couple.
She smiled back at me. “Oh, hi, Andie,” she said. “How’s it going?”
“We’re kind of in a hurry?” Toby said.
Emily just laughed. “Sure,” she said, crossing behind the counter and heading to the refrigerated cases. “What kind of soda?”
“Any kind!” Toby yelled, as I said, “Diet Coke?”
“Pie’s up,” Dawn said. She slid it across the counter to me. I handed her a twenty, and she turned to the register to ring me up. As she did, I noticed the back of her shirt read, CAPTAIN PIZZA . . . YOU BETTER MARSHAL YOUR APPETITE!
I looked at Toby, then nodded at the shirt, and saw her eyes widen. This could easily take care of Business Slogan with a Pun. “Um, so,” I said as I took back my change from Dawn and dropped a dollar in the tip jar, “do you guys sell those shirts here?”
“These?” Dawn asked, glancing down at herself and making a face. “Why would you want this?”
Emily placed the two-liter bottle of Diet Coke in front of me and came to stand next to Dawn, leaning her elbows on the counter.
“It’s . . . ,” I started, trying to think of some excuse that would make sense, but finally decided we didn’t have time for me to come up with anything rational and that I should probably just to go with the truth. “We’re doing a scavenger hunt, and we need something that has a business slogan with a pun,” I explained.
“Ah,” Dawn said, turning to Emily. “So you’re trying to check items off a list?” she asked, nudging her. “What’s that like?”
“Ignore my friend,” Emily said to us, rolling her eyes. “She’s inhaled too many pizza fumes today.”
“We don’t sell the shirts,” Dawn said, bending down under the counter. “But we hired his guy who lasted, like, one day and then quit in a huff last week.” She held it up, turning it around so I could see. The name on the front read T.J., and on the back was printed, CAPTAIN PIZZA . . . YOU GET THE GENERAL IDEA! “I could give it to you if you want. I’m pretty sure he’s never coming back.”
“That’s awesome,” I said, and next to me, Toby nodded and grabbed the shirt out of Dawn’s hands. “Thank you so much.”
We were halfway across the parking lot, heading for the car, when I saw my dad walking out of Paradise Ice Cream, a pint in one hand and his car keys in the other, whistling in a way that I’m sure he thought was nonchalant but actually wasn’t. “Got the ice cream,” he called to us in a loud, far-too-cheerful voice, glancing once behind him. He started walking fast down the steps, and I didn’t understand what was happening until the door to Paradise opened and an annoyed-looking girl stepped out.
“Hey!” she called, as my dad started walking even faster. “Sir? You’re not supposed to take the sample spoons!”
I looked at my dad, feeling my jaw fall open as he tossed the keys in my direction. I caught them with one hand, which surprised me so much I almost dropped them again. “Unlock the car,” he said to me, now breaking into a run. “I think we should get out of here.”
The girl was still standing in the doorway glaring at him, phone held out in one hand, like she was debating calling the police. I unlocked the car, and Toby and I got in just a second before my dad did. He handed me the pint of ice cream, I handed him the keys, and he started the car and roared out of the parking lot. “You stole the sample spoon?”
“Well, she didn’t want to give it to me,” my dad said, glancing into the rearview mirror once, like he was making sure the Paradise security team wasn’t giving chase. “I offered to pay her for it,” he said, slowing down a little now as he must have realized that he wasn’t actually involved in a high-speed pursuit. “Here,” he said, pulling a spoon out from his shirt pocket, then glanced behind him at Toby. “Did we get the pizza?”