Page 41 of Size Queen
15
Damon
Ishow up to Noelle’s apartment with some soup and crackers, unsure if it will cure what isn’t sitting well in her stomach but willing to give it a try. I linger by the front door for a few moments, feeling an odd nervousness that I haven’t before.
I knock on the door, just loud enough that she’d hear it if she was in the living room. If she was asleep in bed, I wasn’t going to wake her up.
Fortunately, she’s not asleep. She opens the door, shocked to see me.
“Damon,” she gasps. “What are you doing here…?”
“Hi, Noelle,” I say bashfully. “I brought you some soup and crackers. I figured if your stomach was bothering you, it would feel better to eat this than something… solid, I guess? Either way, I hope you like it.”
I hand her the soup and crackers, and she appears delighted.
“I’m sorry, I’m just surprised to see you!” she says. “Thank you so much for this. It smells amazing. What is it, I can’t tell…?”
“Broccoli cheddar. It’s really good. I’ve had it a lot. It tastes great when you’re sick. It tastes better with white bread, but crackers are really good in it, too.”
The thunder returns. Lightning can be seen in the distance. Oddly enough, there is also a storm raging behind Noelle’s eyes. I’m trying to read her desperately, but to no avail. Something really is going on with her…
“I really can’t believe you’re here.” She chuckles. “I just… what made you come by like this?”
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” I answer. “I’m not sure why, I just… I don’t like hearing you when you’re sick. It made me worried about you.”
“That is incredibly sweet,” she says, beaming. “I am okay, but… this actually should hit the spot. I’m going to go eat it right now.”
“Well, I hope you enjoy it.”
“Would you like to come in?”
Happily, I step into her apartment before I can even finish my sentence. “Absolutely. I would love to.”
I take a seat with her at the kitchen table, allowing her to eat and savor the food I brought her. I indulge in a cracker or two myself.
“I’m feeling better already,” she says cheerfully.
“I’m glad you like it. So, do you know what’s got you sick?”
She bites her lip, avoiding my gaze while she responds.
“I’m really stressed out,” she says. “There’s a lot going on.”
“Anything you’d like to talk about?”
She blushes before she nervously giggles. “Not really.”
“Well, what’s something youwouldlike to talk about?”
She looks back up at me. We stare into each other’s eyes, both contemplating what routes our conversation could take.
“I want to know what your dreams are,” says Noelle. “Tell me something about you that I don’t know. In like… ten years, where do you see yourself?”
“Oh, is this a job interview?” I laugh.
“I just wanted to know more about you. Have you always just wanted to run a gang?”
“Well, not justagang,” I stress. “I wanted to run the gang that my father ran. I always looked at helming the Rolling Heads as part of the ‘family business.’”