"What do you all want?" Tony Prito asked the group. The teens liked Mr. Pizza for more than one reason; they got to spend time with their busy Italian friend, as well as enjoy the cooking—for a discount.
Vanessa looked around. "Two large pizzas?"
"Sure," Chet said eagerly. Joe shook his head.
"I'd better get a salad. Without dressing."
Tony raised an eyebrow. "Want a roll with that?"
Joe shrugged. Tony made a note and walked toward the kitchen as the group dissolved into chatter.
Callie smiled at Joe. "You're doing really well. Do you feel good?"
The younger Hardy made a face. "I want to go buy out McDonald's."
She laughed. "We'll do just that, once you've lost the weight."
"Coach Finely's a real bastard," Phil jumped in. "You wouldn't believe how hard he works us."
"He's a good guy," Chet insisted. "Just a little intense, that's all."
"Let's not talk about it," Joe mumbled, glancing away toward the storefront outside.
"Frank, what colleges are you thinking about?" Vanessa quickly changed the subject, her eyes worriedly on her moody boyfriend.
"Duke, Columbia, NYU, Boston University, Syracuse, University of Pennsylvania and University of Virginia."
"All out of state, huh?"
"He wants to get as far away from me as possible," Joe kidded a little too seriously. Frank tried to meet his brother's eyes, but the younger Hardy looked hastily away. There was an awkward pause, but everyone thought the same thing: Joe just wasn't being himself.
"Food's here," Chet said, happily breaking the silence.
"That was fast, Prito," Phil said with a grin.
"Yeah, well, the kitchen works faster when the owner's son tells it to," Tony said with a grin, setting Joe's salad down.
"Nothing like a good bowl of lettuce," Joe moaned, eyeing the pizza.
"Poor baby," Vanessa grinned, patting his hand.
"Couldn't you just have one slice?" Frank asked carefully. Joe raised his eyebrows.
"It's a diet Frank."
"One slice is a diet."
Joe shook his head and stabbed hungrily at the vegetables before him, refusing to look his brother in the eye.
Something nervously nagged at Frank: a feeling of apprehension, of something looming. The college comment still rung in his ears.
He could have just been joking, and his mood made it seem too serious. That had to be it. He helped me research schools, he would have said something if the distance bothered him.
Wouldn't he?
Watching his brother eat without so much as looking around the table, Frank began to wonder just how much Joe kept from him.
And felt a flicker of fear begin.