Gorillaz fanfic part 4

PART FOUR

I wake up to a trio of knocks on the door. Noodle is already awake, and from the looks of things, she hasn’t slept. Up writing. I can appreciate that. I hope it wasn’t my fault.

            “Come in!”

            The door creaks open as 2-D comes in balancing a half-spilled cup of coffee in one hand and a platter of burnt toast in the other. “I made toast. And Murdoc hit me over the head with a frying pan.”

            “Cool. And not cool. I’ll—”

            “Don’t worry about it, Nu. There was an incident with the eggs.”

            I never liked eggs personally, but I don’t say anything.

            “I would have made them, but Murdoc cracked the last egg on the floor and blamed Russel.”

            “Good lord. What time is it?” I yawn, sitting up in bed.

            “10:30, why?”

            “Noodle, did you—”

            “That’s not important. Do you need ice for your head, D?”

            He nods as I decide to swipe a piece of toast from the plate. I realize I’m starving.

            “Here’s your coffee, Noodle.”

            “Thanks.” She doesn’t seem to care that it’s anything but hot, and spilled everywhere, she downs it anyway.

            “Toast?”

            “I’m good,” says Noodle, “I was working.”

            “You need to eat to work—you need to work to eat.” I know I’m not making any sense, but that doesn’t matter right now.

            “I’m good.”

            “When was the last time you ate?”

            “Shut up Semi.” She may be an attack helicopter in her mind, but tiny frame has me worried. Short for 15. And thin. Skin and bones. Honestly, she looks 12. And not a healthy twelve.

            “I’m fine.”

            “Ok.” I decide I’ll worry about it later.

            “I’ll get the ice, you sit down, D, Semi, you can have my toast.”

            “Thanks, I’m starving.” I shout, as she disappears into a back room and 2-D sits on the floor.

            “You have chairs.” I feel so dumb. If you’re not gonna say something smart, don’t say anything, Semi. I sigh. Maybe I’m fucked.

            2-D seems to be ignoring my comment, and I’m fine with that. He doesn’t deserve it. Living with Murdoc must be hell. Believe me, I know. I can almost feel the place where I hit my head in the accident. All better now, but the memory lingers.

“Go, go, go!”

            “I don’t wanna be off training wheels, daddy!”

            “It’s the only way you’ll learn.”

            “But I’m not wearing a helmet.”

            “It’s fine, just go!” I can feel him pushing me on my bicycle from the top of the hill, as my little feet try to find the pedals. Before I know it, I’m tumbling down the entire asphalt hill. I get up, bleeding from the head, crying and humiliated. My neighbors saw me. They always thought I was the crazy one.

“Believe me, I know how it feels.” Being sympathetic is something I could maybe do. Maybe. I try not to build close connections with people. It hurts too much. I never really had friends. I can’t think about that now. Yeah, I’m super talented or people say, I’m an artist, I can speak three languages and code, but just, I’ve always felt like there’s something missing. But I know it’s not worth caring about anyone. It hurts too much.

            “Here’s your ice,” Noodle emerges again holding an ice pack. Now that she’s standing upright, knees together—eek. I try not to think about it. For someone who was trained as a super soldier she doesn’t look healthy or like she could take anyone. Maybe I should worry about Murdoc after all. I know Russel could take him. And the door’s locked. It’s just us. And we’re just friends. It would be weird if we were anything else. Just be friends with 2-D and Noodle. Maybe, maybe, it will be ok. But oh no, don’t get too close. But I am in desperate need of a connection.

            Noodle sits on the floor next to 2-D and hands him the ice pack for his head. “You can lie down if you want.”

            He shakes his head and holds the ice pack to the bump. I can already see it bruising. Maybe I should worry. Is he going to die of a concussion? “How do you know if someone has a concussion?” I ask, starting to panic.

            “I don’t have a concussion.”

            “He doesn’t have a concussion,” says Noodle, “Well not anymore. Been there before. He went through a windshield. Or so I’m told. Is that right?”

            “I think so. I don’t really remember.”

            “Because you were in a coma when it happened.”

            “I wasn’t in a coma!”

            “Oh, shut up,” says Noodle playfully as she gets behind 2-D and starts playing with his already messy hair. Her hair is way overgrown. She’s letting her bangs do that. I feel like I haven’t seen her eyes since I’ve been here. And 2-D’s eyes are just so weird. How does he see?

            “How can you see with no eyes 2-D?” I ask.

            “I can see.”

            My heart flutters. Does he think I’m cute?

            “It’s weird,” says Noodle, “Science these days I tell you.”

            “I have eyes, they’re just—”

            “Let’s not get into that, ok?” says Noodle and I see her fingernails are painted black. Edgy. I like it. I mean yes, I wear skirts and stuff but I’m not a girly girl. I don’t care about makeup, I—

            I wish I had someone. Seeing 2-D and Noodle, I know, as shit as everything might be, as shit as Murdoc is, at least they have each other. I never had siblings, real or adopted, which would have been fine if I was better at making friends, or if my father let me have people over—overprotective some people would call it. I call it manipulative. He didn’t know how to raise a kid—stupid helicopter incident. That’s all I hear. I want to know more. It’s like I remember it, but I don’t—I…

            I’m not ok. I miss Japan. I miss Kiko’s Grandma’s sushi. I miss the one person I would consider a friend. I even miss the Fed Ex packing office. I’m going to cry right now, right here in front of 2-D—that can’t happen. But if I leave, I might risk running into Murdoc. I’m so scared. I can’t help it anymore. I have to get out of this room.

            “Where are you going?” I hear Noodle vaguely as I stumble to the window barely seeing through my tears. My head is spinning. I don’t know what’s going on.

            I try to reach for the spring latch and open it, as I’m greeted with a blast of cold air and fog. Lovely.

            “You can’t jump out the window, it’s too far down!” says Noodle. Easy for her to say. Of course, she could land like a cat. There are benefits to being small if you do it right. I was always scared of heights, but I can’t let them see me. I’ll probably be fine. What if I break a bone and get bed-ridden? Here? What if Murdoc—I take another step nervously.

            “You get back here, right now!” I feel a cold hand close around my wrist as I try to fight it. She’s stronger than I expected, but somehow, I’m not surprised.

            “Let me go.”

            “If you’re going to go, use the door. I won’t let you get hurt.”

            “But—Murdoc?”
            “He won’t hurt you. Get back here.”

            “No.”

            Suddenly I feel a sharp pain in my arm. “Ow!” I shout as I’m suddenly face to face with her, whether or not I want to be. A gust of wind comes in now, blowing her bangs and revealing her big, brown eyes for the first time. She looks at me wistfully. The one that got away. No, I can’t think about that now. Everything is just—

***

“Semi?”

            I open my eyes, too see that I’m staring at the ceiling of Noodle’s room, and the light has shifted considerably. I don’t know how long I’ve been lying here, but I’m starving.

            “Noodle?” I ask, sitting up to my growling stomach.

            “Yeah. It’s me.”

            “Where’s 2-D?”

            “Downstairs. Probably watching TV.”

            “Where’s Russel?”

            “Napping. Like always.”

            “Where’s Murdoc?”

            “Not home. Probably at the club with some girls.”        

            “Oh.”

            “Yeah. I’m not old enough to get in.”

            “Not that you are a law-abiding citizen,” I remind her.

            “Are you okay?”

            “Yeah. Just…homesick.”

            “I understand. I feel it too.”

            “Even thought you can’t place things?”

            “Exactly. I don’t like it.”

            “Me neither.”

            “I brought you some shrimp. Russel burned it, but—”

            “Thanks. I’m starving.”

             I down the blackened shrimp with some milk that may or may not be past its expiration date. I feel like I’m going to get food poisoning, but I’m too hungry to care. “Did you get any?”

            “Yeah. Couple pieces,” she says. Russel can eat.”

            “Oh, sorry. Did I--?”

            “No, it’s fine. I shouldn’t eat it anyway. Too many calories.”

            “Oh. Are you on a diet?”

            Noodle turns red. “Sorta. Anyway, it’s a shame Murdoc never brings any cute girls back that are close to my age.”

            “How old is he anyway?”

            “39. 2-D is 27. I’m 15.” She doesn’t look 15.

            “I’m 16.”

            “Cool.”

            “And I’m not cute,” I start.

            “I didn’t…” Noodle blushes.

            “Do you think I’m cute?”

            “No. I mean—yes, like you look nice, I don’t want to.”

            “It’s fine.” I tell her. “Are you a lesbian?”

            “I’m not sure yet.”

            “Ok. I’ve never been around enough people to know.” But I like 2-D. But I don’t say it.

            “Wanna make friendship bracelets?”

            “Sure,” I say as she pulls out the bracelet kit. “I’ll watch you.” I was always bad at reading directions. “Wait does that mean we’re friends?” Is this ok? Should I—This was what I wanted wasn’t it?

            “Yeah, of course.” She says, “Also you don’t have to worry I wouldn’t go for you anyways. Lesbians don’t go for every girl they see. It’s like if you’re best friends with a guy that doesn’t make him your boyfriend.”

            Oh dear. I’m having flashbacks I don’t want to have.

            “I know,” I say, “I’m not stupid.”

            “Sorry,” she says, “Just not sure if Russel get it.”

            “Does Murdoc get it?”

            “Yeah,” she shrugs, “I think gender is the least of his worries.”

            “Great.” I don’t want to know the kinds of things Murdoc is willing to hook up with.

            Then I ask the question I’ve been wanting to ask, but I’m scared. “What about 2-D?”

            “What about him? What color do you want for your bracelet?” I see Noodle has already made an indigo one for herself. Classy.

            “Pink. Or orange.”

            “You can do both.” She hands me the loom. “It’s easy.”

            I take it. “Thanks. I meant who does 2-D like?”

            Noodle laughs. “He likes girls, he’s just not very social.”

            My heart flutters. I have so many questions. Does he like tall girls? Does he like losers? I’m 16. He’s 11 years older than me, and I already know that this is going too far.