Page 12 of The Comedown

It’s sad how the bare minimum still manages to impress me somehow.

Julez hasn’t touched me again and he appears to be just as engrossed in my responses as the person interviewing us, if not more so. Whenever a question is directed at me, I can feel his heavy stare aimed my way the entire time I’m answering. Then when it’s his turn, I find myself doing the same—watching him with genuine interest, hanging off his every word.

I was right, there’s a lot going on in Julez’s mind. He just keeps it all in for some reason.

We’re in the middle of our sixth interview when my stomach growls so loud the noise cuts through the uneasy silence from Julez refusing to answer a question about why he thinks he didn’t get nominated for a Mousai Award this year. The nominees were just announced and neither of us made our respective categories.

Julez looks at me to ask, “You hungry?” and I fight a frown. Everybody in this room now knows I’m hungry. If he’d been speaking, nobody would though. It was a crappy question with no right way to answer, but him not even trying made the situation more awkward than it needed to be.

“Just answer the question,” I say from the side of my mouth, then smile brightly for the interviewer, explaining, “I had a small breakfast. Life on the road, you know?”

I try to laugh if off but Julez cuts through it with, “Then you should eat.”

“I’ll eat later,” I lie just to get him to drop it.

He pushes to standing, saying, “You’ll eat now,” then turns to me, bending like he’s about to pick me up again, and I give him my best don’t even think about it look.

“Can I touch you yet?”

Mindful of his body in front of mine, I’m able to stand without flashing anyone, and I tell him flatly, “No,” before apologizing to the room, informing them we’ll be right back.

Julez follows me into the hallway, saying over his shoulder, “No, we won’t,” making me shake my head as I accept my clutch from Irelynn.

“Yes, we will. I just need a snack.”

“A snack?” he parrots, his thumbs flying across his phone screen. “Your stomach growled so loud I thought you were gonna set off the San Andreas Fault.”

I roll my eyes, pulling out the pouch I packed earlier.

“What the fuck is that?” he asks, and I glance up at him, only to follow his gaze locked on the pouch of baby food in my hands. “Who’s got the baby?”

“Nobody. It just makes an easy snack to eat in a pinch.”

After unscrewing the cap, I fit the tube portion in my mouth, careful to get the inside of my lips around it without smudging my lip gloss, then suck as fast as I can.

“It’s full of vitamins and nutrients,” Irelynn tells him in complete monotone, probably from hearing me say it so many times.

“And it’s easy to pack,” I say when I’ve finished most of the blueberry-sweet potato mash. Julez is still staring at me like I have three heads, so I shrug, asking him, “Weren’t you the one eating Jell-O?”

“So what? Jell-O’s for everybody.”

“It’s the same thing.”

“No the fuck it’s not. Jell-O’s fucking delicious. Babies only like that shit…” He points at the flattened pouch. “…because they don’t know what delicious is yet.”

“Nipples are supposed to be for babies, too, but I’m sure that doesn’t stop you from enjoying them for yourself.”

A smile splits his smooth face. “Facts.”

I can’t help but smile too before glancing at the thin skin under his jaw where I felt his heartbeat yesterday. I can just make out the slightest thrumming.

Irelynn pulls me from my reverie, reminding us of the photo shoot coming up, and I nod, agreeing, “We should get back in there.”

“I already told them we weren’t coming back. They pissed me off.”

“Why? Because they asked about the—”

“Come on,” he says, spinning on his heel and heading for the elevator.