Chasing Cars

The next thing I knew for sure was that I was on the floor. There were a lot of dead bugs in the light fixtures, and there was an oxygen mask over my face. People were looking down at me. I’d drawn a crowd. One of them was a paramedic.

“How are you feeling?” he asked when he noticed I was conscious again. I blinked a few times before I registered what must have happened.

“I feel like I just crash-landed on a linoleum floor,” I admitted after he took the oxygen off.

“That’s perfectly normal. Since you just crash-landed on a linoleum floor.” He helped me sit up so he could examine the back of my head.

“What the hell happened?” I asked. He poked around the sore spot, but it just felt tender, like a bruise.

“You fainted.”

“I fainted? I’ve never fainted in my entire life.”

“Have you eaten yet today?”

“No, that’s why I’m here.”

“Then that’s probably why. Has anything ever happened like this before? Shortness of breath? Dizziness? That sort of thing? When you skip breakfast, do you often feel disoriented or unable to focus?”

“Yeah, sometimes.”

“Then it sounds like your blood sugar is just low. It’s fairly common. You probably just pushed yourself too far this time. I can take you in if you’re worried about it. But my recommendation is to get something to eat and go home and rest. You should take it easy for the rest of the day.”

“I have to work.”

“I can give you a note for your boss. You should probably take the day off.”

“Can you? That’d be helpful.” He sat back and scribbled something out for me. Then he handed it over and helped me get into a chair.

“If your boss has any questions, they’re welcome to call me. Do you think you’ll be alright?”

“I’m fine. Just a little shaky.”

“You probably shouldn’t drive either. Is there anyone you can call to come get you?”

“Yeah, probably my boyfriend.”

“Then you’re free to go otherwise. If you eat and don’t start improving, definitely go into the ER.”

“I will. Thanks.”

Once he was gone, I decided not to stick around. I was kind of embarrassed about fainting in the doughnut shop. So I got my bag, assuring the staff that I was okay to walk, and left to go back to work.

“Where are the doughnuts?” Todd asked when I returned to the back room.

“I—I didn’t get them,” I said. He stood up and followed me to my locker.

“Are you okay? You look really sick.”

“I fainted? I guess. At the doughnut shop? I was feeling really out of it, and the next thing I knew, I was on the floor, and there was a paramedic. He told me to go home to rest. I need to call Chris to come get me. Can you tell Larry? They gave me a note.” I handed the note out. My fingers were still shaking. He looked at me with concern when he took it.

“Yeah, of course. I saw the ambulance go by. We were wondering why it was taking you so long.”

“They told me my blood sugar is probably just low. I’ll be fine.”

“Well, sit down and get some rest. I hope you feel better. Can I get you something? Some water? What helps with low blood sugar? Soda?”

“I’m fine. I just want to sit down until Chris comes.”

“I’ll call him for you, okay?” I just nodded and laid down. It was still morning, but I felt so exhausted that I couldn’t keep my head up anymore. The couch was used and old and not at all squishy or comfortable. But I didn’t care.

And I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I remembered was someone’s fingers on my cheek. I opened my eyes to find Chris staring back at me.

“Hey,” I said. He looked concerned and held onto me as I sat up.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I’m alright. I just need to eat. And get some rest.”

“Todd called. He said you fainted at the doughnut shop, and the paramedics told you to go home. Then he said you came back here and passed out on the couch.”

“They said my blood sugar is probably just low. I still haven’t eaten.”

“We’ll get some pizza on the way home.”

“Okay.”

“C’mon.” He helped me up. I still felt weak and shaky but a little better now that I’d gotten a quick nap. Chris put his arm around my waist and helped me get to the car. I waved goodbye to the guys and then plopped into the passenger seat.

“How are you feeling?” he repeated once he got the car back on the road.

“I feel like shit.”

“You don’t look too good.”

“I just need something to eat. Maybe some sleep. You kept me up most of the night.”

“I did tell you to take a sick day.”

“You only wanted me to stay home so we could fuck again.” He nodded to himself.

“Yeah, but I was still right.” I laughed and shook my head.

“Just make sure I eat before I leave in the morning.”

“It’s a deal.” He stuck out his hand, so I shook it.

We decided to stop at our favorite pizza place on the way home. Chris must have felt sorry for me because he knew his cop-filled fan club would probably be there. He parked the car out front on the curb.

“I don’t think I can get out,” I told him. My body still felt weak. My arms felt like lead. I didn’t want to end up fainting at the pizza place. Chris had quick reflexes, but I doubted it would be very romantic.

“That’s fine. What do you want?” he asked.

“Large. Extra cheese. No olives but lots of mushrooms. Can you get a side order of breadsticks too? And those little potato wedges with the green things on top?” His eyebrow rose.

“For just the two of us? You think we can eat that much?”

“Please don’t question how much I can eat right now. I’ll bite your arm off.” He laughed.

“Do you want some extra sugary soda to go with that heart attack?”

“Please?” He smiled and shook his head. Then he got out of the car.

I decided to take a nap while he waited on the pizza. It probably wasn’t a good idea to sleep in a parked car. But the pizza place was close to the nearest police precinct, so it was likely full of cops. And someone would have to be a dumbass to try and hijack the car right there. I mean—sure, there were a lot of idiots. But regardless, I couldn’t keep my eyes open anyway.

I woke up a little while later to Chris opening the door. The smell of pizza and other delicious things filled the small space. He put the boxes into the back and then angled himself behind the steering wheel.

“How’d it go?” I asked.

“Bunch of assholes.”

“What did they do?”

“Stopped to ask a thousand questions. Wanted pictures. I actually had to point out that my girlfriend was sick in the car just to get them to let me go. But I still would have been here sooner if they weren’t trying to drag me to the table to buy me drinks. Why do we even go to this place again?”

“Because they have the best pizza in San Francisco. And in the beginning, you liked that they were Giants fans and always gave you discounts.” He was quiet as he got the car going again.

“Right. I remember.”

He pulled onto the street, and I reached into the back for the potato wedges. I would usually wait until we got home, but I was starving, and I could smell them. So I popped the box open on my lap and decided to use my hands since I didn’t have a fork. Chris usually didn’t mind, but I could see him glance at me a few times.

“I don’t know how you can eat like that,” he said.

“When I was a kid, my mom used to get mad that I wasn’t growing fast enough. I was eighteen before I ever reached five feet and a hundred pounds.”

“Must be genetic.” Then I froze, and Chris visibly winced.

Genetics was literally the only reason I didn’t have a biological clock. I didn’t know my real father, and I intended to keep it that way. I didn’t even know his name. But I knew what he looked like because he once showed up at my old apartment to talk to me. But I sort of wigged out on him. It still bothered me, though. Knowing that if I ever had kids, they’d be related to him. And could potentially inherit whatever awful genes made him such a terrible person.

Chris and I didn’t talk about my real father. Sure, Chris had been there when he’d showed up, and he actually talked to him longer than I did. And yeah, that was right around when Chris and I realized we were in love with each other. But it was still a very sore subject. I set the box down on my lap.

“Sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean it. I just….”

“It’s okay,” I said to stop him.

“I meant your mom too.”

“Chris! Just—don’t worry about it. It’s okay. Just forget it.”

“Sorry,” he muttered one more time. I just leaned against the window and ignored it.