That One Friend

Chapter 3

When I woke up, Jasmine was gone. I looked around the room in a daze. My head was pounding, last thing I remembered was having that nasty fall. I moved my hand along the side of my face, surprised to feel stitches. "They must have took me in while I was already asleep," I murmured to myself. I looked at my left wrist and saw a hospital I.D. band. I sat up, and as if it were on queue, Jasmine bolted through the door with two big take-out containers of pancakes and sausage, my favorite.

"Here, I got some breakfast," she said, putting one of the containers on the wheeled table and pushed it over to me.

"Thanks Jazz," I said, giggling and instantly regretting it. The stitches on my face burned, like being shot with a flaming arrow. Jasmine saw the pain in my face and caught a nurse as she was walking past my room.

"Excuse me," she said politely. "My friend in this room just received stitches and is in an awful lot pain, do you think he could get some pain medicine or something?"

"Sure thing, I'll bring them back in a few minutes," the nurse replied with the same kindness that was shown to her. Jazz walked back to me.

"Just a few more minutes and you'll be a bit better," she said, sliding her fingers over the stitches on my left cheek and kissing the right. I looked at her in awe. She blushed and sat back down, nervously downing the rest of her breakfast. I just looked way and tried not to think of it, but I couldn't stop. I felt myself starting to blush, too, and just looked away, not wanting her to see. A few moments later a nurse came by with a small pill and two plastic cups full of water. After watching me take the pill, she walked out of the room as quickly and silently as she had come in. Following the nurse's appearance, a white-clad doctor strutted into the room, looking official.

"Are you about ready to leave?" he asked. "You should be able to within the next hour."

"I'm glad to leave soon," I replied, the pain of speaking making itself obvious on my face. The doctor whipped out a medical pad and scribbled some stuff on it.

"This is for a prescription for Vicodin. It's a very strong pain killer and you will become addicted if you use it too frequently. One bottle should last you a week, so I'm not giving you any refills."

"Thank you," I said as he handed it to me.

"I'll give word to admission and you're free to go. Come back in a week to get the stitches out. Have a nice day."

"Thanks, you too," I said as the doctor strolled out of the room.

"So we get to leave soon," said Jazz. "I guess that's better than sitting here."

"Yeah, I guess it is...," I hesitated and looked away.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"It's just that I enjoy spending time with you, even if we don't talk much."

"I do to," Jazz said as she giggled.

"That's good to know. And Jazz?"

"Yes?"

"I, um... well, I ..." 

"Stop hesitating and just tell me, you loser," she said jokingly.

"Well...," I stuttered again. Jazz sprang from her seat, ran over to the bed and kissed me. Not on the cheek, not on the forehead. She kissed me right on the lips. It was magical. The kiss was like nothing I had ever experienced before. I just let myself be engulfed by the sensation. After a few seconds, Jazz pulled her lips from mine, and blushed. 

"Jazz...," I managed to utter. She turned away.

"What is it?" she asked back. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry Jazz. I..."

"Just spit it out."

"I thought you liked me but I wasn't sure." I blushed myself.

"Okay? What about it?"

"I... I like you too."

"I more than like you!" she said sharply. "A kiss isn't something you just do to someone you like. I've cared deeply about you for a long time you've been too blind to notice."

"Maybe I've been so blind because when you're around it's hard to focus on more than your pure beauty. Not only your looks, but who you are."

"I doubt I'm anything special."

"Yes you are Jazz!" I got out of the hospital bed, and I kissed her this time. We just stood there in pure silence and bliss for a minute, then I pulled away. "We should probably pick this stuff up, Jazz. Then we can get out of here."  We hugged each other.

"You might wanna change, too," she said, "your butt hangs out of that gown." She giggled and poked my chest.

"Yea, trust me, I know." I laughed right back. "I'll go to the bathroom and change."

"Why go in there?" she questioned.

"Jazz, we're in a hospital, we're friends, and you don't look like a nurse," I said. "You can't expect me to let you get that close to me after one kiss."

"Two kisses," she corrected. "But go change, loser," she smirked. "I'll clean up. And be careful of your stitches." 

        After I changed, we walked out of the hospital room and down the hall hand in hand. After 20 minutes of paperwork and such, we left the hospital and just sat in Jazz's car in silence. Then we buckled up and drove off, with Jazz driving, of course.