Prescription for Miss Walker

I didn’t tell my family the next day. Or the next. Or the one after.

And, soon enough, it was Friday again, which meant it had been a whole week since my diagnosis. I went out regularly with Madison, propositioning to be her wing woman on the condition she’d drive me home each night, so it meant she couldn’t get out of her face. She’d pouted, but only briefly, since I promised her the finest ladies (she knew I had the best eye out of us).

I’d seen my brother, Alison and my nephew – who they had named Theo – twice in that time, once alone and the other in the accompaniment of my dad. I had planned on telling them then, but the idea of breaking such horrible news to them in the wake of Theo’s birth just seemed sad. Attention-seeking almost.

I’d also managed to avoid Dave as well. I didn’t know how, I was just glad I didn’t have to stare at his saddened expression every time he appeared.

Lastly, Doctor Cameron wasn’t pleased I hadn’t broken the news yet, since it meant we couldn’t start treating me. He’d ranted and raved over the phone a couple of days ago, but I hung up on him and dumped my cell in the flowerpot by the window in my apartment (I’d retrieved it since then) as I headed out for drinks with Madison.

Nights out with her had become regular now, and she didn’t fail to score either. Each night I got a text saying she’d picked succeeded in her pick up and she was getting ready for some major face-sitting.

Tonight, I’d found her latest conquest and I watched her as she strutted her stuff. All too soon, she was grinding up against this short girl’s ass and fondling her thighs.

I’d been sitting by the bar all night, ordering milk. I stared down at the white liquid in front of me, full to the brim of my current glass. It made me clench my teeth just looking at it.

“Can I get a shot of your strongest whisky please?” The bartender nodded, as I turned around on my stool. As soon as I did, I found my friend making out with her victim on the dancefloor already. It made my jaw grind. “Make that a double, actually.”

I was being stupid, I know, but really, what was a few brain cells when I was dying anyway?

So, I chugged.

And I chugged. And then I did it a little more (five or six glasses) until I was finally counting stars. Mouth dry, losing balance and not even trying to talk anymore, I slid myself off my stool.

I faced the horde of hot women, each of them shamelessly hooking up in front of friends, touching each other in places I didn’t even want to look or exploring further into the human anatomy. Madison was at the back, with the same girl, laughing away.

“Hey, I’ll call you a taxi, alright? I’ll say goodbye to your friend for you too, yeah?” The bartender offered. I nodded lightly in response.

However, as I walked out the stinky club, I realized I didn’t want to hang around for a cab. I could get home on my own just fine.

Waltzing down the street, while trying to avoid spraining my ankles, the blaring of cars horns and intensity of the streetlights were giving me a migraine. Rubbing my temples lightly, I faced the ground and continued on my merry way.

But a screeching noise quickly pierced the air. I flipped, squinting my eyes to try and make out the shape when... I was flying off the ground. Strong vines or something had wrapped around my chest and it heaved me back, to where I was before, with the streetlights.

The screaming noise became dulled, and there were a few audible voices, but the words weren’t coherent.

“That was some real idiocy right there, walking into oncoming traffic like that. Are you just looking for death?” That voice, it was...

“Doctor Cameron?”

I looked up and the man scrutinising me had wide eyes, was wearing a woollen winter coat and his hair completely tied back – but I hadn’t seen wrong.

“Miss Walker, have you been drinking?”

His expression was that of apathy, or close enough to, from what I could make out. I couldn’t believe myself. I disgusted him.

So, I did what any person in my mind would do...

I cried.

Right there, on the street, with hundreds of eyes on us as he held me at arm’s length and didn’t try to shush me. He didn’t tear his face away for a second. Normally, I’d have reveled in this, but tonight I knew it wasn’t because I’d struck back with my sharp tongue, or I’d challenged his authority.

Tonight, was something else. I just didn’t know what.

“Come on, let me take you home.” He said once the tears had calmed down. He guided me towards his car and I quietly hopped in, desperately trying to rid myself of my headache on the way.

We reached my apartment in next to no time. I fumbled through my purse, trying to find my keys, when it was taken from me. So, instead I stood by while this gorgeous man raided my belongings.

He opened the door and I sauntered inside. God, the light was brighter in here than outside. Too bad I had to wait till he caught up with me again.

I was about to ask what was taking so long when he showed up next to me.

“Your friend, Madison, was requesting for your whereabouts. I sent her a text as you, saying you’d gone home with a headache.” He smirked lightly, as he handed me back my purse and cell.

“Thanks.” I mumbled... Or something close enough to it anyway.

He continued to linger, although I didn’t know why. I was safe, in my apartment complex. Whatever did he think could happen to me here?

I coughed.

“This is my door. See?” I knocked on it, creating one hell of an echo. “Wood.”

He laughed.

“Yes. Yes, I do see it, looks like the finest oak. I am just going to make sure you don’t do anything more stupid and actually get to bed okay.”

This wasn’t his typical jerk behavior. What was going on?

I shook my head. I didn’t want him inside my apartment, there was a one percent chance I wouldn’t jump his bones if he followed me in. No promise of tea or coffee, I’d be all over that junk.

“No, I will be alright. You already take care of me elsewhere, you shouldn’t have to here.”

He rolled his eyes, then ran his tongue along his teeth. I couldn’t stop watching him.

He was so brilliant, why did I have to want him? Need him? Why couldn’t I feel those lips on mine? Because it was wrong? Because society says I shouldn’t?

Fuck them.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and brought his head down, until his mouth connected with mine. His lips were soft, plump and heavily moist, like he’d only just licked them.

But he wrenched me away, too quickly, hands firmly grasped around my wrists as he held them up, inches from his head.

“Whoa. I think someone has had way too much Jack. It seems you can get more idiotic.”

I swallowed those words. Those eyes, they were so dark. So startled.

Furious.

Mortified by my actions, I sobered up almost instantly. I put the key in the lock and rammed the door right open, I didn’t think I could stand to be in the same room as those eyes for any longer.

“Yeah, sorry. Um, blame it on Mr Booze.” I said, I’d just edged myself in the doorway by the time he’d stalked back to the front entrance. He didn’t look back.

“I’ll see you at some point, Shira.”

The huge doors slammed behind him, but I didn’t remove my eyes, not until he was out of sight.

Then I shut myself in my lonely studio apartment, as my legs finally failed to keep me balanced any longer and I sat in front of the door, sobbing once again, to my heart’s content.

What had I done?

It was only just then that I realized he hadn’t called me by my last name...

He called me Shira.