Noelle scoffs. "No. And why do I get the impression that you're the sort of person who magically makes friends with everyone?"
"Because I'm a nice person?"
Her nose crinkles at this answer. "You can't say that aboutyourself."
"Why not? Objectively, I'm nice."
She doesn't say anything for a moment, so in lieu of continuing this conversation, I head to the area closest to the cookie station and drag one of the folded up tables out. I unlock it and spread it out gently in the middle of the cafeteria, right next to the cookie station.
"You're welcome to tell me I'm a nice person, if that would make you feel better," I joke, as I take a seat on one side.
For that, I get a reluctant smile and an eye roll. "You are," she says, her eyes flitting to mine and quickly away as she takes the seat across from me. I grin, and she points her finger at me. "But don't get gloaty about it."
"Nice people don't gloat," I say, shooting her a little wink that I realize after the fact is entirely too flirty for this situation.
Goddamnit. Noelle does something to me.
She's quiet for a second, her eyes on mine and a slight smile on her face.
I look away, filling this moment by dumping our food out onto the table.
She raises her eyebrows when she sees the spread I got us.
Becausefine, I was kind of thinking of this as a healing thing for her.
I mean, I'm supposed to dosomethingwith this girl for another forty-some hours. There's not enough community service in this building to actually fill up that much time. I'm going to have to get creative, and like I said, is it not community service if someone from the community–even if she refuses to accept she's from here–benefits from it?
"Salad for you," I say, nudging the plastic container toward her with a fork. "As well as any candy, chips, energy drinks, or sweets you might like."
She snorts. "Yeah, if I eat that, my whole body is going to break out."
"What? From one piece of candy?"
She rips her salad open. "Yeah," she says, her eyes scanning the array in front of her. "But I can have some chips." She grins and bites her lip. "And the hot Cheetos. Oh lord, I love me some hot Cheetos."
I laugh. "Well, I'm glad I got you something you like."
She purses her lips, looking out over everything else. "I like candy a lot. I just can't really eat it." She's quiet for a second. "I have eczema. It used to be really bad when I was a kid, but I figured out my triggers. Sugar is one of them. I can have salty, greasy things, but no sugar if I can avoid it. Fruits are generally fine but I tend to stick to berries to be safe. I can only use one specific laundry detergent. And it always gets worse this time of year, with the season change and the stress of the holidays."
I nod as I gather the candy back into the bag. "Ah, okay. Well, I wouldn't have tried to tempt you into sugar if I knew."
"I don't usually tell people."
I nod. “Well, thank you for telling me.”
She shrugs. "Thank you for essentially doing community service with me. I know things could have gone a lot worse for me."
I shoot her a quick grin. “I’m always happy to help the community.”
She rolls her eyes.
"Eat your hot Cheetos, Criminal."
3
NOELLE
Sunday, December 1st