Make a Wish|| G. Gustin

10.

Waking up well is something that I do not take for granted. It's a blessing. I turn over carefully to see Grant with a cup of coffee reading a small stack of papers.

"Aww," I say still exhausted. "You look so cute in your glasses."

He smiles and continues reading his papers. When I sit up to walk over to him, I see something that makes my stomach sink. I gasp sharply and tears well up in my eyes.

"Hey hey what's wrong," Grant asks running over to me. I blink the tears away and sigh. I pick up the clump of hair that lies on my pillow.

"I worked so hard," I say in a scratchy voice. "To grow out my hair. Now it's just going to fall out again."

"I'm sure you will still look great," he says trying to cheer me up.

"I'll look like a potatoe," I tell him. "Anyways, what are you reading?"

"I don't know," he says holding up the papers. "I found it on your desk."

My face flushes with red. "Umm.. That's my book," I say embarrassed.

"I didn't know you like to write," he says curious.

"I get really bored," I mutter. "Uhh.. What one are you reading?"

"It's called," he hesitates flipping to the first page, "The It Girl."

"Oh God," I groan. "Please no. It's terrible."

"It's actually really good," he says. "Where did you learn to write like this?"

"I majored in writing in college," I tell him. Still wearing yesterday's clothes I walk over to my dresser and pull out a Christmas sweater.

"That is a fantastic sweater," says Grant with a laugh.

"Christmas is in five days," I tell him. "I'm getting in the spirit!"

"You're so cute," he says in awe.

"Take that back," I tell him. I'm not cute. Im sassy.

"Hey so are you feeling good enough to get out of here? It's just, you know, Christmas time. Time for cheer and there is not much cheer here."

"I have to be back by three," I say excited.

"Let's go," says Grant with a smile on his face. I grab my credit card and put on a pair of Ugg Boots.

We walk through the lobby of Vancouver General, which is now decorated with faux boughs of holly and potted poinsettias. People with boxes wrapped in red and green paper storm the room. Reception is full of people coming to visit their sick and hurt loved ones.

As soon as we walk out of the doors of the hospital I nearly face plant in result of the icy street. Grant wraps his arm around me, preventing me from eating the melting snow that lies on the frigid ground.

"Thank you," I pant, regaining my breath. We continue to walk to the parking lot. Once in Grant's car I sigh, taking in the warmth.

"So," says Grant starting the ignition. "Where do you want to go?"

"I don't know," I say. "Wherever you want."

Grant is silent for a moment thinking to himself. Only the sound of nearly muted Christmas music is audible in the rolling car. I wonder what the next few hours will be like as I look out the window to see the busy city streets covered in decorations for the holidays.

The buzzing of Grant's phone interrupts my train of thought.

"Hey can you see who that is babe?"