Becoming Beautiful (Wattys2014)

| Chapter 28 |

“Oh,” I frowned as I placed the guitar down.

“It’s easy to play; you were just holding it wrong,” he told me as he sat up, fixing his shirt. Running a hand through his hair, he sighed. “I have a killer headache, and I’m really hungry.”

“Marissa just left to get breakfast,” I told him.

He nodded, rubbing his hand over his face. “Good, because I really want food.”

Slowly, he exited the room and I stood there. What do I do? Do I follow him? What if he’s going to the bathroom? That’d be really weird. And I can’t just casually stroll into their kitchen like I own the place. A few seconds later, he peeked his head into his room with a slight furrow in his eyebrows. “Are you coming?”

With a smile, I followed him down the hallway towards the living room. After I sat down, he looked at me and motioned upstairs. “I’ll be right back.”

I shrugged and grabbed the remote, turning on the television. This is awkward. Are we going to talk about it? Or is there nothing to talk about, like Noah would say? A few moments later, Noah entered the living room and dropped down onto the couch a few cushions away from me. As if sensing the tension, he chuckled. “Don’t worry; it’s usually awkward like this. You’re doing better than Floyd did.”

“Really?” I asked him with a smile.

“Yeah, he broke down crying. He kept telling me that he was sorry and that he couldn’t imagine losing his mom. I was the one comforting him,” Noah snorted.

I laughed, shaking my head. That sounds like Floyd. “I would say that I’m sorry for your loss, but I know that hearing that a hundred times doesn’t help at all, and it doesn’t mean much.”

“It would mean something coming from you,” he told me as he stared at the television. “I mean, I know you lost your dad. So you can relate. And your ‘I’m sorry’ is more sincere, if you get what I’m saying.”

I looked at him and nodded before glancing back at the TV. It strikes me as odd at how normal he’s acting, and by normal, I mean how Noah-ish he’s acting. I wonder if he does that a lot- break down. I used to do it at least twice a week in the beginning, but I got better at preventing them. But when I would have break downs, I wouldn’t recover as well as Noah is. It’s sad that he’s perfected the skill of acting normal after crying himself to sleep.

I turned to look at him, examining him. A few seconds after I began gazing at him, he turned to look at me, tossing a confused look my way. “Uh, we’re supposed to be watching TV, and last time I checked, I’m not a TV.”

“Can I not glance at you?” I asked him innocently.

“You weren’t glancing; you were staring, which is creepy,” he told me.

“Do I snore?” I blurted loudly, managing to change the subject.

“We’ve had this discussion before,” he told me.

“I know, but I don’t know if you were being honest. You could’ve been lying just to annoy me,” I told him.

“No, you snore; it’s very loud, to be honest,” he responded with an amused look on his face. My face crinkled into one of annoyance.

“Yeah, well, you…you hog the blankets!” I retorted.

With a slow nod and a mocking smile, he chuckled. “I know, because my heart is like ice and I can freeze to death without them.”

“You’re not coldhearted,” I replied.

“Yeah? And how did you come to that conclusion?” he asked me.