“Where’d you get that food?”
James Johnson leaned back in his chair as he munched on nachos from a battered-looking, greasy Taco Bell box. “I snuck it in my bag,” he said smugly, interpreting the look on Kelly Olynyk’s face as one of jealousy.
“Do you not remember how coach held you out due to your quote-unquote conditioning?” Kelly asked.
“I remember,” James replied. “I just don’t particularly care.” He grinned as he sized up the next tortilla chip he was about to put into his mouth. It was piled high with cheese, beef, and jalapenos. When the salty, meaty, crunchy combination hit his mouth, he closed his eyes as he was moved to a state of gustatory bliss.
“There’s energy bars if y-”
“Kelly, can you just shut up?” James interrupted. “Food is the only thing that makes me happy, okay? Let me have this.” He dug around in the box for a suitably intact chip before scooping some beef onto it and popping it into his mouth. “These are pretty good cold,” he remarked to Kelly as he held out the box. “Even though you’re being an asshole about it, I’ll let you have a chip.”
“How long have those nachos been sitting in your bag?”
James had to think about that question for a moment. His trips to various fast-food establishments all blended together in his mind. “Two or three days. But it’s not like they taste like socks or anything.”
“I’m good.”
James shrugged. “Fine by me.”