Fire Starter

Chapter Twelve

Mason was in the middle of crying out incoherent pains as I sipped at my orange juice across from him, scoffing at the pulp. His head was pressed to the table. This behavior was making me never want to get drunk... Ever. Why did your head hurt when ever you drank alcohol, rather than your stomach? Maybe because it messes with you brain, kills brain cells, and makes you dumb.

"Make yourself some coffee." I suggested, wondering when Zayn would come out of his room this morning. I didn't want to face him because of what happened last night between us, but I'd like to think that he hadn't left me here with Mason, of all people.

Suddenly I heard a rumbling of a machine, it sounded like a washing machine, but I realized it was the garage when a bouncing Zayn came from down the hall rather than his bedroom.

He'd left last night probably, just coming back this morning. I didn't want to think about what he might have been doing, and what the female might have looked like.

"Morning." Zayn says, looking at me... He has a slight smile on his face. So this is how guys act when they've just gotten laid... Jovial, eh?

It's a matter of time before his mood is completely flipped; I settle with a nod of greetings, taking a sip at the disgusting orange juice... It tastes with the mixture of toothpaste and mouthwash.

Before he sits in his normal chair, he drops a black plastic bag on the table. After he sits, he empties it out in the middle of the table, and out falls a black pen looking object, two small white cans, a bottle of pills, and an L shaped tube. If I weren't mistaken, it looked like he made a trip to the doctor's.

"Thank you!" Mason praises through sheer pain as he hurriedly takes the bottle of pills from Zayn, reaching across the table to take my orange juice. I almost glower at him, but I can't, because humor takes over my expression once remembering that I just back washed in that cup.

"Don't smoke inside the house anymore. Here you go." Zayn slides him the pen and I then figure it's one of those electric cigarettes. Was this suppose to be in favor of me?

My lungs were crammed and tight and I hadn't noticed, I just thought it was normal to have this weird feeling about breathing, then Zayn had slid me an inhaler.

"How--" I asked astonished as I rolled the can in my hand to read the label. I couldn't even finish my sentence.

Of course it was familiar to me, so I didn't have trouble snapping the can into place. I took a pump, feeling embarrassed with Zayn watching me, but I was eager. It took shaking and pumping a few times before medicine came out, I felt a quick relief in breathing, lungs feeling cool for a seconds.

Mason was currently testing out his cigarette.

"I had a nurse access your medical records and tell me what your prescription was." He could have just asked me, but the surprise part of it flattered me.

"They can access American records?" I'm yet again, amazed. Something seems off, but it's probably minor I tell myself.

Zayn rolls his eyes, and probably because Mason is mumbling something about bacon. "Apparently."

"Thank you." I breath better, but there's a glitch in my heart when he smiles back, making me look away.

"So what's on today's agenda?" Mason asks, touching his lip and I look over at Zayn for the answer.

"Well is there anything you particularly want to do?" He asks. "I think I just want to sleep...."

I really wanted to go see the city that never sleeps... or is that New York? Whatever. It was probably too cold out any way.