Can't Get Enough

2.

2.

Its my third day of visiting him in the hospital. The nurses know me by now and just wave me in. I see more flowers, balloons, and cards every time I walk in. To see him that night, clinging on to life, pale, empty...it broke me. I still don't know if I can trust myself with him again, but I can't just let him die. It's not like he doesn't want to get better...

Right?

The light has thankfully returned to his face, cheeks back to their rosy state. He was getting better every day, and I know I'm supposed to cut myself off from dead-ends like him, but I can't bring myself to. I stood there in the doorway staring at his frame when he called my name.

"I know you're there."

Oops. I tentatively walked in and sat in the chair closest to him. Trying not to make eye contact with that precious face, I talked to the ugly white wall.

"You look better." He turned his head to me and looked at me, I had to look back. The Beyonce moment is gone, I am no longer fierce. I don't think I ever will be with him again, now that I've seen him look like such a wreck. 

"Why don't you call me Taco anymore?" A small voice suddenly erupted from him and I blinked. He remembered that silly nickname?

"Of course I remember." He always had a knack for reading my mind. I saw a lost sparkle return to his eyes. Something I hadn't seen in years. It always brought me a smile, and sure enough, I felt the corners of my mouth curve upward. He sighed softly and shook his head.

"I really need help, Leila." His expression pleaded with me.

"I know." He turned his head away from me, but his hand found mine. Surprised by this tiny gesture, I was at a loss for words. I felt a spark run through my body. Is my Harry returning?

"Please help me." It was almost a whisper, his raspy voice weak. I'd never seen him so helpless before, and my heart broke in two. My best friend since I was six, a decade later, destroyed. He was blinking back tears as I tasted them in my mouth. I had to. I wont forgive myself if I don't. My voice shook as I responded.

"I promise." He turned his head back to me, happy.

"Really?" I shook my head yes and he smiled, relieved.

"Thank you, Leila. Honestly." He squeezed my hand and massaged it with his thumb.

"MATE!!!!" I nearly jumped halfway out my seat. Our heads whipped around to see his friends Zayn and Louis standing in the doorway, smiling.

"Zayn, Lou!" He sounded overjoyed. I decided it best to quietly exit as quickly as possible. I started on my way when one, not the one who sought after me in the parking lot, spoke up.

"Sorry it took us so long to visit, Zayn here thought he killed ya." Louis, a short devishly handsome prep with sandy brown hair and amazing blue eyes slapped Harry on the shoulder while Zayn smiled meekly and switched his focus.

To me.

We made eye contact as I reached the doorway. His eyes sparkled as if to say "I Know What You Did Four Nights Ago." I shuddered at the thought and focused on his looks. He's so ravishing with his denim jacket and white tee. His chocolate eyes were to die for. He smiled, but I bolted past him and out the room.

"Hey, wait up!" Zayn had followed me all the way to the parking lot. He just doesn't give up. He heaved a little. I finally turned around.

"You know, for a stoner, you've got some pretty decent lungs." Hoping he'd get offended and leave, I was mistaken.

"I sing a bit." He grinned. I nodded, uninterested, and turned back to my car. He grabbed my arm and I sighed, annoyed.

"I never thanked you properly for saving Harry back there. You're the reason he survived." I felt my heart warm but then grow cold again, for Zayn reached into his pocket and pulled out a joint.

"You're seriously getting high after your best friend has been hospitalized for it?" He fished around In his pocket and pulled out a lighter.

"As I recall, four days ago, you did the same thing. And he wasn't high, you can't OD on weed. It was something else..." He cupped his hand over the end and lit up with another as he let his voice trail off.

"I was in shock, that doesn't count."

He sucked in and blew out a thick cloud of smoke.

"Double standard!" He looked at me, incredulous.

"Don't even, I didn't even get high." He took another hit.

"You never do on the first try. Your immune system does everything in its power to fight off the unfamiliar drug and it works. But that's your only get outta jail free card." I blinked at how intelligent that statement was and he rolled his eyes at me.

"I take AP Biology and a chem class at the uni. We're not all rich dumbasses." I might've believed him if he hadn't had the nerve to light up in the middle of a hospital Parking lot surrounded by cars, in front of mine. He leaned on my car door.

"You sure you don't want a hit? Takes a load off, and your clothes, if I'm lucky." I rolled my eyes but curiously stared at the blunt. Life ruiner, but life easer. Maybe one teensy hit wouldn't ruin my world forever. I looked at Zayn in the eyes. His look didn't display evil, maybe I could trust them.

"C'mon, the flame is running out. Speak now or forever hold your peace." So without a second thought, I plucked the blunt out of his hand and took a huge suck in. Instantly my lungs filled with dope and my head filled with hope. I smiled back at Zayn, noticing at once how good he smelled. And how hot he looked.

Maybe you do get high instantly.