Page 33 of Silent Damage

My eyes are on Gabe the whole time. He’s pretending he doesn’t notice me, but I know him—I know how his body moves. His shoulders are tense, and his breathing is heavy.

He’s furious that I’m ruining his peaceful morning.

Good.

I take a seat at the tiny table right across from him and glare while I eat.

His jaw clenches, but he still won’t look at me, so I start eating with my mouth open, making sure he can hear my cereal mashing.

His eyes narrow.

Those pale cheeks turn red, and his hand shakes as he grips his spoon.

If he holds it any tighter, it’ll snap in half.

“Morning, sunshine. Enjoying breakfast?”

Wanna get in my face? Fine. I’ll get in yours, too.

He continues to eat, staring out the window and trying to ignore me.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

Not even a glance.

“I bet it’s really annoying. Having me here…eating. Ruining your perfect morning.”

I’m almost positive I can hear his teeth grinding.

“I’m having a lovely morning. Peachy-fucking-keen. Just…” I slurp down a big spoonful of cereal. “Lovely.”

His eyes finally land on me, and a spark of electricity shoots through me.

But then his eyes narrow, and a wicked smile appears just before he shoves a big spoonful of cereal into his mouth and chews.

Loudly.

Obscenely.

Mouth open, bits of food flying out and landing on the table.

Two can play that game.

I shovel cereal into my mouth, my teeth chomping and bits of soggy cereal falling down my chin. “Tastes good, huh?” I garble through a big mouthful.

He nods and scoops another spoonful into his mouth, glaring at me as he chows down.

Soon, it becomes a contest. The two of us compete to see who can be the most disgusting.

Hold my beer, asshole.

I drop the spoon, scoop cereal with my hand, and slosh it into my mouth, moaning and licking my fingers while I savor this generic, boring-ass cereal. “So, damn goooooooooood.”

Then, Gabe does the unthinkable. He reaches across the table, grabs a fistful of MY CEREAL, and stuffs his face.

“Hey,” I scream at him.

He shoves the fistful in his mouth, then picks up his bowl and literally dumps the rest into his mouth, with most of it spilling out the sides and down his neck.