Alcoholics Anonymous

Ten: Bloody Knuckles

"Holy fucking shit-" I started, as the door bounced back off my hand. Blood dripped down the creases in my knuckles, and onto the door frame.

Sara stood there staring at my hand like she didn't know what to do. "I'm sorry." She was calm, and said it like she didn't really mean it.

I cradled my right hand under my left, and swore at the carpet. 

"Do you want some ice?"

My eyes flickered up to Sara's. "Thanks."

She retreated into her apartment, and I followed her. Sara led us to the kitchen where she opened the freezer and pulled out an ice pack and wrapped it in a towel. "Here." She shoved it into my chest, making sure she was always at a good distance from me.

I stared at her as I situated the ice on my knuckles. "Nice place."

She shrugged.

"So... are you in college?" I asked.

She crossed her arms and blew hair out of her eyes. "Yeah."

"What are you studying?"

"Medicine."

I nodded. "That's impressive. Do you want to be a doctor?"

She gave me a look before yanking the ice from me, dropping the bloody towel in her trash pail, and putting the ice back in the freezer. "Let's go."

"For a girl studying medicine, you certainly don't treat your patients well." I hissed, feeling pain circulate in my hand.

Sara stalked back to the front of her apartment, and I followed her. "You're not my patient, and it was you're own fault you got your hand slammed in my door."

We walked in silence to the elevator.