Unease Builds On A Summer Day Essay
When the door opens and Noelle emerges, all Butch can do is stare. Because the young woman standing in front of him cannot be her. There’s a dullness in her eyes that’s never existed before, like they forgot how to sparkle. Her hair no longer reaches the middle of her back; instead, it hangs just below her chin, framing her face. But the blood on her clothes is the biggest shock. She patched up people; she wouldn’t hurt them.
“Butch?” She calls out his name softly, like the word is glass that would shatter if it’s spoken too harshly. Her brows furrow, creating tiny wrinkles in her forehead. Same look she’d get when solving a complex problem. Not that he would stare at her in class or anything.
“Hey Noelle.” For once, he doesn’t call her ‘Nosebleed’ or ‘Poindexter’. It’s his way of apologizing, of starting a new beginning. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed seeing—no, teasing—her until she was gone. Noelle’s expression deepens.
“What are you doing here?”…