alphabet, or counting from one to ten, and I’m not sure I’d have understood any better. He nodded and disappeared out the back as the lady started talking to Jake again. Again, her words went over my head, but I was mesmerised as this stranger talked to my best friend’s brother on the phone.
Don’t ask me why, I couldn’t explain it if I tried, but it was suddenly the funniest thing I’d ever seen. Giggles bubbled up inside my chest, then came bursting out of my mouth, right at the same time as water started pouring from my eyes. Tears cascaded over my cheeks and ran down my chin before dripping into my lap leaving little dark spots in the denim where they landed, spreading out like ink in blotting paper.
A door opened and closed somewhere behind the counter, and the man reappeared with a blanket in his hands. His eyes widened when he saw me, and he shot an alarmed look at the lady, but she just gave him a pointed nod. Who could blame him? I’d be pretty freaked by me too given the circumstances. He edged closer and I leaned forward enough for him to drape the blanket around my shoulders.
When I say ‘leaned forward’ it was actually more of a flop, and then I started to keel over until his firm hands gripped my shoulders. I could smell spices, curry powder maybe, and I swear I could smell poppadoms. My belly agreed and roared at him, determined to embarrass me even more, but he ignored it and eased me back up against the counter before releasing me slowly, making sure I wasn’t about to wind up on the floor again.
Some part of me was disappointed to miss out on the chance of doing a killer impression of a huge caterpillar emerging from a cocoon, or maybe a beetle flat on its back and trying to right itself. How funny would that have looked?
My laugh took on a crazy tone and I figured this had to be what ‘delirious’ felt like. I was being held prisoner, trapped inside my own body and I had no control whatsoever. I knew the hysterical cackling was coming from me, interspersed with hysterical sobbing too, yet there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. Instead, I snuggled deeper into the soft, warm blanket, and drew it tightly around me. Safely propped up, I felt my eyelids droop, and it was a struggle to force them back open. It wouldn’t have been the first time I’d cried myself to sleep, but it would have been the first time I’d done it sitting upright chuckling at random thoughts while shivering hard enough to rattle my bones.
‘No, you must stay awake,’ the lady said, the lower half of her body stepping back into view. I hadn’t actually noticed she’d left, nor that she’d finished speaking to Jake, so she must have gone in the backroom to talk to him or something.
‘W-w-why?’
She squatted down next to me again and pressed a mug of something hot into my hands. I managed to spill half of it down my chin before she’d even fully let go. The hot liquid ran down my neck and soaked into my top—not that it mattered: my jeans were already soaking wet from my crying and my tears showed no sign of letting up.
‘You bumped your head and I think you might have concussion.’ She wrapped her hands over mine, still clinging onto the mug, then held it to my lips. Tipping it carefully, she poured some of the contents into my mouth a drop at a time while the man, her husband I guess—and the chef too, since he was wearing chef whites and a food-splattered apron—busied himself gathering up the scattered flyers and menus, arranging them in neat little piles. ‘Your friend will be here soon,’ she added.
My friend? Did she mean Jake?
Omigod, no way
.
Would I class Jake as a friend? He’d always just kind of been there.
I let her carry on feeding me with the hot sweet tea while I thought about it some more, but then the bell above the door did its little tinkly thing again. We all jumped—I think I screamed, too—and the mug crashed onto the floor with the dregs seeping into the
Don’t ask me why, I couldn’t explain it if I tried, but it was suddenly the funniest thing I’d ever seen. Giggles bubbled up inside my chest, then came bursting out of my mouth, right at the same time as water started pouring from my eyes. Tears cascaded over my cheeks and ran down my chin before dripping into my lap leaving little dark spots in the denim where they landed, spreading out like ink in blotting paper.
A door opened and closed somewhere behind the counter, and the man reappeared with a blanket in his hands. His eyes widened when he saw me, and he shot an alarmed look at the lady, but she just gave him a pointed nod. Who could blame him? I’d be pretty freaked by me too given the circumstances. He edged closer and I leaned forward enough for him to drape the blanket around my shoulders.
When I say ‘leaned forward’ it was actually more of a flop, and then I started to keel over until his firm hands gripped my shoulders. I could smell spices, curry powder maybe, and I swear I could smell poppadoms. My belly agreed and roared at him, determined to embarrass me even more, but he ignored it and eased me back up against the counter before releasing me slowly, making sure I wasn’t about to wind up on the floor again.
Some part of me was disappointed to miss out on the chance of doing a killer impression of a huge caterpillar emerging from a cocoon, or maybe a beetle flat on its back and trying to right itself. How funny would that have looked?
My laugh took on a crazy tone and I figured this had to be what ‘delirious’ felt like. I was being held prisoner, trapped inside my own body and I had no control whatsoever. I knew the hysterical cackling was coming from me, interspersed with hysterical sobbing too, yet there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. Instead, I snuggled deeper into the soft, warm blanket, and drew it tightly around me. Safely propped up, I felt my eyelids droop, and it was a struggle to force them back open. It wouldn’t have been the first time I’d cried myself to sleep, but it would have been the first time I’d done it sitting upright chuckling at random thoughts while shivering hard enough to rattle my bones.
‘No, you must stay awake,’ the lady said, the lower half of her body stepping back into view. I hadn’t actually noticed she’d left, nor that she’d finished speaking to Jake, so she must have gone in the backroom to talk to him or something.
‘W-w-why?’
She squatted down next to me again and pressed a mug of something hot into my hands. I managed to spill half of it down my chin before she’d even fully let go. The hot liquid ran down my neck and soaked into my top—not that it mattered: my jeans were already soaking wet from my crying and my tears showed no sign of letting up.
‘You bumped your head and I think you might have concussion.’ She wrapped her hands over mine, still clinging onto the mug, then held it to my lips. Tipping it carefully, she poured some of the contents into my mouth a drop at a time while the man, her husband I guess—and the chef too, since he was wearing chef whites and a food-splattered apron—busied himself gathering up the scattered flyers and menus, arranging them in neat little piles. ‘Your friend will be here soon,’ she added.
My friend? Did she mean Jake?
Omigod, no way
.
Would I class Jake as a friend? He’d always just kind of been there.
I let her carry on feeding me with the hot sweet tea while I thought about it some more, but then the bell above the door did its little tinkly thing again. We all jumped—I think I screamed, too—and the mug crashed onto the floor with the dregs seeping into the
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