Cheerio

“Alright, time to get up!” a nurse greeted as she flicked on the bright lights of the room. In her hand was an outfit of mine that I hadn’t worn in a long time, which just let me know that Garrett probably picked it out.

“Ugh,” I groaned, burying my face in the pillow and pulling the blanket over my face. “Can I have a million more minutes?”

“How about no?” she suggested with a chuckle, dropping the clothes on my feet. “Come on. Get up and ready. They’re expecting you over at the rehab center.”

I groaned and sat up, rubbing my eyes and yawning. Waking up sucked. I wished that I could just sleep as long as I wanted and go to the rehab center later. But I knew that was totally not an option.

Slowly, I got to my feet and dressed in the clothes gotten for me. “You’re going to have breakfast in the car,” the nurse informed me when she came back in, bearing a toothbrush, toothpaste, a hairbrush, and some face soap.

When I was completely ready, even looking halfway decent (though, I noticed, my pants fit a smidge tighter than they used to), the nurse led me down the hallway, where a town car was waiting to take me to my destination.

“Your suitcase is already in the trunk,” she told me with a smile, answering a question I hadn’t asked. “So you’re all ready to go.”

I took another look back at the hospital and let out a sigh. “I guess,” I responded sadly.

As I walked over to the door, I started to get nervous. Really nervous, actually. I didn’t want to take the plunge to getting better. What if it didn’t take? What if I just ended up doing a lot of suffering, and everyone who was proud of me for ‘being strong’ (as Kurt had said), would end up disappointed?

I climbed into the car and swallowed back the bile that was rising in my throat. “Ready?” the driver asked, leaning over to turn on the heat to counteract the cold morning air.

“I guess so,” I replied as honestly as I could.

The car pulled slowly into a start. I rested my head against the cool window and let a single tear drip from my eye, just like a freakin’ Hollywood movie.

Just when I could feel my eyelids drooping shut, the car lurched to a sudden stop. My torso smashed against the seatbelt, and I went directly into freak-out mode. “What the hell?!” I shouted at the driver. “Aren’t you supposed to do this for a living?!”

“There’s someone running after the car,” he explained in a slightly irritated tone.

“What?” I took off my seatbelt and turned around to peer out the back windshield.

And, surely enough, there was a guy jogging toward us, getting ever-closer. “Holy shit…” I trailed off. Then, I opened the car door and stepped out, my breath hitching for a second when the freezing air hit my face. Wow, had we really not even left the parking lot?

“What the hell are you doing?!” I questioned Puck, chuckling a little. “You almost got me killed.”

“Sorry,” he replied quickly. He sounded a bit out of breath. “I just…I couldn’t let you leave without saying a real goodbye to you.”

He had a point. The day before, those goodbyes we said before going to the nursery were basically it. When he and Kurt left, I just waved with a smile, and they disappeared down the hallway.

“Okay. Well, let it be fast,” I told him, sneaking a look back at the car. “’Cause these rehab people are kind of uptight.”

“It won’t take long,” he promised.

But when he didn’t say anything right away, I opened my mouth to ask him what he was doing, and he captured my lips with his.

His hand was soft, yet very present on the back of my head. God, I couldn’t believe it. Noah Puckerman, the same guy I wouldn’t give a chance in hell while I was a Cheerio because I figured he’d only want to get in my pants, was kissing me. In a parking lot. With people watching, probably. And I completely loved it.

I finally pulled away, and he grabbed me immediately and wrapped his arms around me. “Sorry,” he chuckled, his breath blowing around a few strands of my hair. “I kind of…had to do that before you left.”

I leaned back just enough to look at him in the face. “I’m glad you did. Thank you.”

The driver of the car beeped, and I jumped back, out of Puck’s reach. “I guess I’ll see you in August?” Puck questioned as he brought his hand forward and rested it on my cheek.

“I’d say so,” I smiled. “Just don’t forget about me, okay?”

“I don’t think that’s possible. You know, I’m proud of you.”

I bit my lip and tried to fight the tears that were threatening to fall. “Thank you. Without you, I wouldn’t be doing this.”

“Just go get better,” he demanded seriously, moving his hand to my jaw. “That’ll be all the thanks I need.”

I smiled lightly at him while the driver honked the horn again. “Alright, I really should get going. Bye, Puck.”

“See you around, Evie.”