Just a Kiss Away

Noah

Why is everything spinning? The girl is spinning, the floor is spinning, I'm spinning? CRASH

**********

My eyes drift open slowly and fluorescent lights coat my face and shine directly in my eyes. I blink, hard. Where am I? The last thing I remember is talking to Ms. Coffee Girl and then I went to her house, and... my eyes widen once I remember how our little apology session ended. I knocked out, on the doorstep, in front of her. When is this day going to end?

"Sir, how are you feeling?" I look up at the woman standing in front of me, she has a long white robe on and a stethoscope around her neck. A doctor. I'm in the hospital. But how did I get here? "Your friend Lily called us earlier when you collapsed and asked for someone to bring you here, you're very lucky she was there with you at that moment." Not exactly on a 'friends' basis with her, but I'm glad she was there too. "We ran some tests and it looks like you have a lot of alcohol in your system. Do you drink regularly?"

"Yeah, I was at a club last night," I admit. I don't think the girl, Lily, knew about that though, she must've been confused about why I was knocked out.

"How often do you say you drink or go out?"

"Every day basically, sometimes only six days a week," I respond.

"Only?" a new voice chimes in, "I don't think only is the word I'd use if I spent six out of the seven days of the week drinking alcohol." I look in the direction of the person speaking and I see her, she has blue and black pj pants on and an oversized, gray crew neck that looks like it wouldn't even fit me. The neck is cut and it hangs off her shoulder, a light blue strap showing from underneath. She looks tired, light gray circles create a shadow under her eyes. Clear glasses shield her eyes from the bright lights of the hospital and her hair is messy, a few strands have escaped her bun and hang over her face. She stands with her arms crossed and she does not look too happy with me right now. I don't blame her, I'm not happy with myself either, and I'm not exactly making the best first impression either.

"Sometimes I, unreasonably, drink 6 days a week," I say, correcting myself. I look at her and smile sarcastically, happy? I see the corners of her mouth lift and she turns to the side, hiding a pretty smile. My stomach turns and my heart flutters a little. What is wrong with me, I don't even know this girl. She turns back to me, her face a little more red than it was a second ago. She forces her mouth into a straight line and turns to the doctor.

"So, is he good to go back home?" she asks as if she's my mother and I'm an irresponsible child who ended up here by doing something stupid.

"Pretty much," the doctor starts, "but you really should cut down on the alcohol. Your lungs are starting to get damaged, keep this up and you'll need-"

"A lung transplant," Ms. Coffee finishes her sentence for her. "You do not want to have a lung transplant, 3-6 months down the drain while you recover, got that?" Okay, so she's Ms.Coffee and Dr. Smatypants?

"Are you a doctor?" the lady asks her, shocked to see that her sentence was finished correctly.

"In school to become one," she responds, "hopefully." She smiles at her and my heart flips again. What is up with me today? Maybe I do need to cut back on drinking. "Okay, let's go," she says to me, grabbing her keys and wallet from the chair next to the bed.

"Thanks, but I can drive myself home," I say to her.

"Well you didn't drive here Sherlock, you were kinda knocked out and got here in an ambulance," Okay Ms. Sassy Pants, calm down. No need to have an attitude.