Health Care

Three weeks has come around quicker than I’d anticipated, and hoped. Sam and his three friends are getting off at the station in a matter of minutes, and I’m the one dropping them off at the airport. It makes it a lot easier for them wheeling their suitcases, and second of all, I get to see Sam before he leaves.

They’re away for just one week again, like last time. The only member of the group not going is the guy whose Stag Do it was. His fiancé won’t allow it, especially now the two of them are getting closer to the wedding date. I feel a pang of jealousy. Why can’t I exert that sort of control over Sam? Oh yeah, my conscience reminds me, you’re not engaged.

I wait on the platform, arms folded and jangling my car keys. I try not to look so stony faced for a number of reasons. Firstly, I don’t want Sam to get pissed at me, and secondly, I don’t want his friends to think I’m some super bitch that isn’t worth coming home to. I twist the ring I have on my right hand and ponder on the meaning of ‘commitment’. Christ, I think I’m turning crazy. I hate being a girl. Why can’t I be like Sam’s friends?

They stumble off the train one-by-one; Sam is last off, greeting me with a bright smile. He looks excited, and annoyingly adorable. He’s wearing a grey t-shirt and pair of loose fitting jeans. I don’t expect he’ll wear those jeans again until the journey home. If anything, I doubt he’ll even be wearing his t-shirts very much.

His friends look pleased to see me, if not a little boggle-eyed. Jesus, have they started drinking already? They follow me to my car, load up my boot and the three lads clamber in the back. My tiny car sags under the weight of the three grown men. I recognise them all from my holiday, except they seem different when dressed in normal everyday clothes, as opposed to novelty t-shirts and swim shorts. The majority of their tans have faded. Finally, Sam sits in the passenger seat next to me and lays his hand across my knee.

One of lads wolf-whistles from the back. Sam gives them a wry smile.

“You sure you’re okay to pick us back up from the airport?” one of them asks me. I think his name is Dan.

I repress my urge to sigh.

“Yes, as long as you keep me in touch,” I reply. I imagine myself in a week’s time, sat up in bed until 4AM, wondering what sort of sorry apology greets me when I see Sam.

“Top girl,” Dan nods in an approval. I roll my eyes but can’t help smiling slightly.

The boys discuss their final flight arrangements and talk hurriedly about what they have planned for the week ahead. They’re staying in the same hotel as last time.

“I just hope that security guard doesn’t recognise me!” Dan guffaws. I don’t even want to ask.

They begin reminiscing about last time’s shenanigans, and I can’t help but laugh at their bravado and more often than not, their absolute stupidity.

“God I’m so jealous,” I blurt out over the hoots of laughter. “I wish I could go on holiday again.”

“What have you got planned this week then, Alex?” Dan asks me politely. I’m surprised he remembers my name, unless Sam told him during the train journey.

Truthfully, I haven’t even planned that far ahead yet. What am I going to do with myself?

“Probably just go out with the girls,” I say.

It doesn’t sound particularly interesting. Maybe I should make up some bullshit to get their attention, like how I’m a semi-professional exotic dancer in my spare time. But no. I don’t even think someone like Dan would even find my friends interesting. He probably prefers the dancer-type; the ones crawling around Malia.

It’s a wonder Sam doesn’t prefer these girls too. Maybe he does; he just doesn’t think he has a chance? Maybe he has to settle for someone fairly normal like me, in the hope he can encourage me to take up pole dancing or something for his own entertainment. God, the mind boggles. I find myself so deep in thought that I completely miss one of Elliot’s questions. Elliot is sat behind Sam’s seat.

“Sorry, I was daydreaming,” I say, shaking my head and focusing intently on the road signs. I don’t know why exactly; I know my way into the airport like the back of my hand these days.

“It’s okay,” Elliot laughs. “I asked if you’ve let Sam have a Hall Pass for this week.”

A Hall Pass? What the fuck is a Hall Pass?

Sam’s still shaking his head, looking shameful. He clearly heard Elliot’s question the first time around.

“I, er …” I stammer, but Sam jumps in.

“No, no,” he says, glancing at me. “No Hall Pass. End of discussion.”

“No way!” Elliot sniggers. Dan’s starting laughing too. Oh, what a delight. I feel so awkward; I can feel my face burning already. Only a couple of miles until I can get this rabble out the back of my car, with good riddance.

“Alex,” Dan says to me calmly. “A Hall Pass is written or verbal permission given to a guy by his girlfriend. It allows him an allocated time slot ‘off’ his relationship, to do so as he pleases with his fellow guy friends.”

He explains it as though I’m at a university lecture. Guys actually have terminology for this sort of stuff? I let a fake “haha” escape my lips, but inside, my conscience fires a hundred questions. Does Sam want a Hall Pass? Is he pissed off that I didn’t give him a Hall Pass? Is he waiting for me to give him one now, now that I know what is it? I glance nervously at him. He smiles warmly at me.

“Don’t listen to them baby,” he says softly. It’s like they’re not even in the car. “I wouldn’t want a Hall Pass, even if you gave me one. I don’t want anyone else.”

His voice is dripping in affection, and he grasps hold of my knee again, rubbing it tenderly. The lads in the back laugh and fake retching sounds. Jesus I could kick them out now and tell them to walk.

“Look!” Elliot croons. “Sam’s gone all soft! Fuck, I can’t believe it! Alex, you gotta tell me your secret!"

The boys laugh again, and even Sam grins.

Pulling up alongside the kerb, I switch off my engine and open the boot up. They each grab their suitcases and Dan fishes around in his pocket. Producing a ten pound note from his pocket, he offers it to me.

“For petrol,” he nods. “And for putting up with us lot.”

You can say that again, I think to myself, but accept the money gratefully. One by one, the lads all give me a fleeting hug of thanks and I wish them a safe journey. Sam slips his arm around my waist and kisses my cheek. His lips are so soft.

“I’m gonna miss you so much baby,” he whispers. “More than you’ll know.”

My anger seems to dissipate as I pull him into a tight embrace.

“You better have fun,” I say. “But not too much fun!” He laughs and pulls me in tighter, squeezing me within an inch of my life. We kiss fleetingly, so not to draw too much attention. Dan and the boys are already whooping from the other side of the pavement.

“I forgot to say,” Sam mutters, pulling away from me slightly.

“What?” I ask, curiously.

“Will you be my girlfriend now?”