Good Times Never Seem So Good

When I woke up in the morning, I felt terrible. Not only did I feel like puking my insides out, but I could barely make it out of bed to get there. I made an inarguable decision to stay home from school. My dad had checked on me several times before he left for work, each time finding me in the same position, wrapped up in my bed. I kept my TV on, even though my back was facing the screen. Since I was going to be home alone, I wanted some sound so I didn’t feel so alone.

My stomach was telling me to get up, but my body hurt too much. As much as I felt like I was going to throw up, I stayed in bed, forcing my stomach to calm down. I figured that I would just sleep it off and I’d wake up feeling better, which for the most part was true.

I woke back up at noon, not feeling like I could throw up. But I did have a major headache. Though my body protested, I pushed myself out of the bed and walked downstairs to get something for my head. I carried my thick comforter with me, wrapped around my body. Oh the times I wish I had a Snuggie. I maneuvered my comforter cape so that I could stick my arms out to reach for and open the bottle of Tylenol. I felt a little rebellious as I popped three into my mouth, when normally, I only took two at a time. I washed the pills down with a glass of water.

I walked into the living room, falling onto the couch. I turned on the TV and watched Spongebob. As I watched, I remembered that my friends would be in lunch now. I wish I could’ve been there, but there was no way I would go to school now.

My eyes started to get heavy and I could feel myself falling asleep, but the sound of the doorbell woke me up. I figured it was my dad, coming to check on me again, during his lunch break. So I stood up, stumbled a little, and then made it to the door.

When I opened the door, I was surprised to see Noah standing there with a plastic bag in his hands.

“Noah, what are you doing here?”

“I heard you were sick, so I brought you some soup,” he said with a smile. Could he seriously get any cuter?

“Aww, thanks!” I took the bag from his hands and carried it to the kitchen. “I don’t want to get you sick.”

“I got my Flu shot, I’ll be alright,” he said.

“What if I don’t have the Flu? What if I have some rare, incurable disease?”

“I doubt that. But I also figured that I could help you study, since we have a Spanish test coming up. You missed the review session today.”

“Oh, what a shame. But seriously, I don’t want to get you sick. I’d feel terrible,” I confessed, hoping he would leave me alone to suffer and keep himself healthy.

Honestly, I was shocked. I didn’t think Noah would even think to call and ask how I was, let alone come and visit me with soup. Mercedes must have been talking about a different guy when she said Noah Puckerman didn’t care about anyone but himself. But I was impressed. If he was trying to impress me, he was definitely on the right track.

“I’ll take care of that,” he said as he took the soup can from my hands. I was just about to make the soup myself, but he took over and kicked me out of the kitchen. So while he did that, I grabbed my phone and texted Mercedes to find out if Noah had been acting strange at school.

I could hear Noah in the kitchen; he was obviously frustrated. I made my way to the kitchen and programmed the microwave for three minutes. I gave him a look said, ‘seriously?’ and walked away. He followed me to the living room and sat down beside me.

“Thanks for coming over and bringing me soup,” I said.

“Any time.”

The microwave beeped, signaling that my soup was ready. I started to stand up, but Noah put his hand out and stood up before me.

“I can handle this,” he said and went to the kitchen. I smiled to myself when I realized he’s probably not like this with anyone else. It made me wonder though, why was he acting like this with me? Why did I get to see a different side of William McKinley’s notorious bad boy? Don’t get me wrong, I find it very sweet. No one has ever made me soup before, other than my dad.
Though, every time Noah looks at me, his eyes are filled with lust.

So most likely, he’s trying to impress me so I sleep with him. But he can try as hard as he wants; it’s not going to happen.

“So how’s your soup,” he asked me. He intently watched me slurp up my soup.

“It’s great,” I said, fighting back laughter. I don’t know why that was so funny, but I just felt like laughing.

“So did you miss me? Is that why you came over?” I teased.

“No. I don’t miss people. I just came because I thought it would be nice to keep you company. But I didn’t miss you,” he said defensively.

“Sure, I think you’re just in denial. You missed me.”

“No, I’m just being a good friend.”

“Okay, if you say so,” I said, shaking my head.

“I do say so. So why don’t we study,” he said.

“You actually want to study?”

“Well, not really. But good friend here,” he said, pointing to himself. “That’s what I do.”

“Uh huh. You know what I really want right now,” I said.

“What?”

“I want some coffee.” I heard what was left of my New York accent come through when I said coffee. Since being in New York for the summer, I picked up their language. Some of it stuck with me.

“What did you say? Did you say coffee?” he mocked.

“Shut up.”

“Are you from New York?”

“I spent the summer there with my grandma, and I picked up their accent. Don’t make fun of me,” I said. “I’m sick. Be nice.”

“That’s funny, New York. Is that why you’re name is Brooklyn?”

“Well not necessarily. My mom always liked the name, but my dad proposed to my mom on the Brooklyn Bridge, and I don’t know, I guess that’s where I got my name,” I explained.

“Oh, wow. Well that’s interesting. But I still think that’s funny, coffee.”

“Shut up, Noah.”