Vodka Kisses

0519- Out, Damned Spot

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Dad asks, he's worried about me. He hasn't worked in the office all week.

"I'm fine, I'm going to donate blood later. I need to eat something." I tell him.

I pull open the fridge which is basically empty.

"I'm going grocery shopping later sorry there's nothing in. But um... you do know you can't donate blood right?" Dad asks once I close the fridge.

"Why not? I thought I'd be fine since I donated those stem cells." I pull back and turn to face him.

"Grace, we thought you'd be okay to donate but you know that your mom rejected them because they weren't healthy. After she died, the doctors told me that you wouldn't be able to donate anything, because of the type of drugs you took." He tells me.

Wait.

"Huh?" I ask with a raised eyebrow.

"The needles ruined your ability to donate anything." He tells me and I nearly cry.

"Okay, I should still get a move on. I should get something to eat before school." I take my bag from the table and push it onto my shoulder.

"Okay, um also any chance you're talking to Logan yet?" My dad asks as I head to the front door.

"No, why?" I grab my keys from the dish and turn to face him.

"He called in sick." He says with a shrug.

"That's unfortunate." I say a quick goodbye and then head to the brew to get a coffee.

From the brew I head to school.

Once I get to school, I don't even see him at first and when I do see him I have to do a double take.

Logan is sat at one of the picnic benches outside the front of the school with a box of blueberry muffins.

"Gracie." He calls and everyone looks in his direction.

I want the ground to swallow me up.

Logan waves at me and I drag my feet over to him.

"What?" I ask with a raised eyebrow.

"How are you?" He stands, getting the hint that I'm not going to sit with him.

"Fine, I've got to donate blood." I lie glancing towards the doors of the school.

"Uh..." he scratches the back of his neck.

"Are you sick or something? Why aren't you at work? You're really late." I tell him already knowing he's 'sick'.

"I miss you." He tells me.

"Right so you've called in sick for your job even though I'm in school all day and wouldn't be able to see you? You should've just came over after work." I roll my eyes and go to turn around.

"Grace wait." He grabs my arm.

"Don't donate your blood." He tells me.

"I'm not going to." I shout in frustration. Enough about my fucking blood. I get it, it's dirty.

"I think we should talk, I can pick you up from school." He offers.

"I drove my car here, it wouldn't be productive for you to pick me up." I glance back towards the doors.

"I'm tired of fighting." He sighs.

"I'm not." Clearly.

"I don't understand where this is going, I don't even know what we're fighting for." He runs a hand through his hair.