Thirty-five

The taste of the meatballs Ryan had bought for us, was completely refreshing. I shut my eyes, smiling like a drunkard. Could meatballs make a person feel on top of the world? Yes. 

"You like it that much?" Ryan laughed at me. 

I nodded like a maniac. "Very much. It's so… gosh. No words can express it."

"Mind if we get ice cream after this meal?" He offered. 

I nodded crazily. "Yes. Ice cream. Vanilla. And strawberry. And chocolate."

He smiled. "Alright."

I grabbed some burnt ends and corn dogs from the plate in front of me, and chewed on them like a hungry goat. Ryan stared at the brown colored soup in front of him, which had a whole lot of green leafs, pepper, and catfish in it, seeming quite hesitant to drink the soup. 

I raised an eyebrow at him. "What's up with you? You're scared of it? You know the soup isn