Not another Day at the Beach

Chapter 8: Getting the Scoop

POV: Cordelia
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I woke up in the hospital. The worst place to be. Not because of the fact that I was having problems with my health, but because I'm currently working without pay. The hospital bill will probably be as much as rent for six months...which is something I can't afford to begin with.

"Hey. You're back."

I recognized the owner of the voice, it was Max.

"How are you feeling?"

I paused to think, my recollection of events a little fuzzy.

"I'm...better. Obviously."

"Oh. Sorry, stupid question."

"No, no! It's fine." I said, waving my arm in dismissal.

I went to adjust my glasses, then realized that they weren't there.

"Max, help. I'm near-sighted." I said, squinting."

"What? Oh. Your glasses are right here."

He handed me my glasses, and I tried to put them on. It was then that I realized that they were completely broken.

"Are you kidding-"

"Oh yeah. They broke a little when one of the paramedics accidentally stepped on them. They kind of fell off your face in the parking lot."

"No fricking way. Do you know how expensive prescription glasses are?"

"Well, I wear contacts, so no."

"Great. First the hospital bill, now my glasses. How am I going to ever afford this?"

"Look, calm down. We don't want you to freak out again."

"I was having an asthma attack, and I didn't have my inhaler. Was I supposed to not freak out? God, and those freaking paramedics probably broke my glasses on purpose just so they could reccomend me lasik-"

"See, this is exactly what I meant."

I took a deep breath, gathering myself.

"Fine. You're right." I mumbled, sinking into the bed.

"I have one question."

"Lay it on me."

"Why did you start running with me? You're fully aware that you have asthma."

"I thought I had my inhaler."

"Still..."

"I was running late. My boss would quite literally kill me if I didn't show up on time."

"Why do you work this shitty internship anyway? It's obvious that you hate it."

I sat up, turning towards Max.

"I want to be a reporter. They wouldn't hire me because of my lack of experience, so I asked them about an internship. I didn't expect to be fetching coffee for them, but it's not like I have a choice."

Max nodded his head.

"That makes sense, I guess."

A text dinged on my phone, prompting Max to reach for it.

"It's from someone named Andrea Bullock."

"Ah. Shit."

"Want me to read it?" He asked.

"Go for it."

"'Cordelia, we asked Emily to go get the food after you failed to show up. She found the boxes you carelessly dropped in front of the building. We have standards, and you being a lazy, careless employee doesn't meet them.'" Max read. "Who's Emily?"