Omega City Read Online Free PDF

near the door, covered her mouth with her hand and squealed. She twisted around and beckoned to me, eyes glittering with excitement. I sighed and crawled after her. Paper Clip followed, yellow tail flicking in the air. When we reached the window, Savannah lifted the curtain a fraction of an inch, peeked out, then slammed her body to the floor.
    â€œHe’s there! Gillian!”
    â€œOf course he’s there,” I whispered. “We ordered pizza from him.”
    â€œGirls?” came his voice again. “Please? I’ll give you a free order of egg-roll calzones.”
    Savannah crouched beneath the windowsill and lifted the curtain again. I caught a glimpse of his truck, a beat-up red pickup with a magnetic General Tso’s Pizza sign affixed to the side. Our town’s too small to have more than one delivery place, so General Tso’s does pizza and Chinesefood—and to be honest, they’re kind of bad at both. The only decent thing they have going for them is this delivery guy, who Savannah, in keeping with the military theme, has christened Private Pizza.
    Private Pizza is really, really cute. He’s very tall, very tan, has very dark hair and very beautiful green eyes and as far as we can tell, he only works on Tuesdays and Thursdays.
    Savannah was now putting on lip gloss and arranging her long, stick-straight blond hair over her shoulders. She handed me the lip gloss but I shook my head. Banana-flavored. Yuck. I did, however, tighten my ponytail.
    She stood up, smoothed her top down over the waist of her jeans, and took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m going in.”
    I gave her a thumbs-up.
    She yanked the door open. “Hi,” she cooed.
    Private Pizza stood under the porch light, pizza in his hands. He wore his red General Tso’s T-shirt with its ironed-on military fringe and Mandarin collar under an unzipped blue hoodie. “Hi.”
    â€œIs this our pizza? Tomato, cheese, and sesame chicken?”
    â€œShould be.”
    Savannah cocked her head to the side. “I don’t think that’s what you’re supposed to say.”
    Private Pizza rolled his eyes. “Come on, kid.”
    â€œI think,” Savannah went on coyly, “that if you don’t say it, we get it free.”
    He sighed, straightened, and clicked his heels together. “I present to you, lovely maiden, this golden disk of the seven heavens, baked by the flame of four noble dragons.” He bowed his head over the pizza box and held it out.
    Savannah giggled, took the box, and handed him the money Dad left for us. “Awesome.”
    Private Pizza stepped back. “Yeah, no free egg-roll calzones for you,” he said, and jogged off the porch.
    Savannah closed the door, but watched him as he got back in the car and peeled off down the driveway, gravel spinning out from under his wheels. “He’s so hot.”
    â€œHotter than the pizza,” I said, grabbing the box. “Since you make him stand out there for five minutes first.”
    â€œHe’s my future husband!” Savannah insisted, following me back to the dining room table. “I want to spend as much time with him as possible.”
    â€œYour future husband?” I asked skeptically. “You don’t even know his name.” I opened the box. Nestled into the corners around the pizza were four wrapped fortune cookies. I yelled for Eric.
    â€œThat’ll come later,” Sav declared, and snagged a slice.
    â€œI’m just saying, we could have had calzones if you’djust answered the door and didn’t make him do the whole routine.”
    â€œEgg-roll calzones?” Eric asked, materializing by my side.
    â€œForget it.” Savannah peeled the cheese off her pizza. “They’re fattening anyway.”
    â€œSo how’s the Fiona conspiracy coming along?” Eric asked as we all sat down with our pizza. “Have you figured out her evil plot of evil