Page 50 of Just for the Cameras
“We don’t ram each other in the head.”
“Really? Because it seems like you’re missing a few brain cells.”
“Is that supposed to be funny?”
I mean, I kind of thought it was.
“You tell me.”
He jerks his head to the side. “It’s not.” His lip curls into a snarl, and I fear I might have woken the beast. I blame my exhaustion, mental and physical.
I shall never recover from this.
Never.
He pushes a door open, and we enter a cafeteria where chefs wait behind the counter to serve whoever walks in.
“Two protein smoothies, please. A four-egg omelet with spinach, cheese, and bacon, and a bowl of fruit.” He glances at me and asks, “Do you have any allergies?”
“Uh…no.”
“Do you want anything else other than a smoothie?”
Any donuts lying around here? Because I know that would truly soothe my battered and beaten soul.
“Um, I think I’m good.”
“Want a bacon omelet?”
“I’m a vegetarian.”
He pauses for a moment, as if he’s recording that information before saying, “Then a cheese omelet? You should have some protein.”
“Isn’t that what the shake is for?”
“You should have more.”
“I’m good.” I hold my stomach. Could I actually hold anything down?
He turns back to the people behind the counter and says, “That’s it, then.”
They nod and get to work as he takes a seat at a nearby table. I follow right behind him and take a seat as well.
“You just have people making you food all the time? That must be nice.”
“It is,” he says as he leans back in his chair, studying me, those dark eyes penetrating any sort of protective shield I might have up. “Do you want to call this quits?”
“What?” I ask, my brow pulling together.
“You really think you can keep on doing this?”
“It was one day and my first time. I’m sure I can keep doing this.” If by “this” he means feeling like a sweaty, slightly ripe noodle, then IdoubtI can keep doing this. But I’m not a quitter, and I can be quite stubborn when I want to be.
And this…this is a moment where I want “stubborn” to be my middle name.
“You can barely walk, and you have no idea the kind of pain you will be in tomorrow or even the day after that, when you’re back out here with me. Just call it like it is—you can’t keep up.”
“Oh, I can keep up,” I say as I lean forward, my body screaming at me for making any movement. “Just…just need to get used to it is all.”
