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Summary
He makes it across the street, wiping pathetically at his nose with the end of his sleeve, and stumbles into Paulie's kitchen, where Paulie is leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee in one hand, the newspaper in the other. He's wearing his glasses, and there's a second mug waiting on the counter for James. Also a bagel. James loves Paulie.
Paulie glances up over the paper and frowns, eyes roving James' face. "You okay?" he says.
James coughs and sniffs at the same time in answer. It sounds gross even to him.
"You're sick," says Paulie, folding the paper in half and setting it down.
"No shit," croaks James.