Phoenix
I’m drowning.
Not in water, but in pitch black darkness. There is no light, no way out and it feels as if there is a giant rock pushed against my chest.
Relax, someone commands. But I can’t. My breaths are raspy and I fear that this is the end. My life will abruptly come to a stop and there is not a single damn thing I could do.
Or is there?
Just breathe. In and out.
There’s that soothing voice again.Was it that simple? I just had to remind myself to breathe and it would all be okay. I hope. In and out. Inhale and exhale.
There’s a light. It’s so close I can almost reach out to it. But I can’t find the strength. My arms won’t budge.
I’m drowning again. The darkness pulls me under, causing me to tumble and fall until my ray of light disappears completely.
***
“Phoenix. Phoenix, wake up.”
My eyelids flutter open against my will and a pair of bold emerald eyes stare back at me. Dan is kneeling beside my head where I must have fallen asleep on the couch. An afghan is draped over me and I kick it off suddenly feeling a little too warm.
“You okay? You were mumbling and tossing in your sleep.”
I sit up, wiping the faint sheen of sweat over my brow. “I’m fine. Where’s Billie?”
The last thing I remember is sitting on the couch with Billie watching some chick flick – her choice of course. After being rushed to hospital and receiving stitches down the left side of my hairline, both Billie and Dan refused to leave my side. Even after telling them a million times that I was fine, they apparently had some pact to not leave my side at any moment. Fury aside, it was actually comforting to know that were people out there who cared that much about you.
“She’s covering your shift, so she left early this morning.”
Which reminded me. “Don't you have to be at work?” I ask.
“Nope. I already called in sick.”
I give Dan a disapproving look. “You didn't have to do that. I honestly feel fine.”
“Sorry, P. I’m on strict instructions not to leave your side. I brought breakfast, by the way.” Dan heads into the kitchen and returns with a brown paper bag stained with butter and two Styrofoam coffee cups. He pulls out two bagels, handing one to me as well as a coffee. I take a sip of the coffee first, desperately needing my daily dose of caffeine.
“You know, if it wasn't for the coffee, I would probably still be trying to argue with you.”
Dan smirks. “Well, at least now I know how to get on your good side.”
“So," I take a bite out of my bagel, "since you insist on babysitting me, what’s on the agenda today?”
Dan chugs down the rest of his coffee. “Well, since you and Billie made me sit through that horrid movie yesterday, I thought I would pick the movie this time.”
“Okay first of all, it wasn't that bad. And second, what do you have in mind?”
Dan walks over to the counter and picks out two movies from a plastic bag. He holds up both of them so I can take a look, but I don't recognize either.
He looks at me in disbelief. “Don't tell me you haven’t seen either,” he says when I look at him helplessly.
I shrug. “Sorry.”
“Jeez, Phoenix. You have no idea what you’ve been missing out on.” Dan kneels beside the DVD player, inserting the one titled Forrest Gump. Instead of collapsing on the couch, he continues into the kitchen to pull out a pint of ice cream from the freezer. Seriously, is there anything Dan didn't think of?
“Mint choc-chip ice cream still your favorite?” he asks, giving the tub a small wave.
I laugh. I can’t believe he still remembers. “Dan, it’s like eleven in the morning.”
He grabs two dessertspoons and joins me on the couch. “Any time is a good time for ice cream.” He hands me a spoon and I take a spoonful of the cold goodness. He’s right – ice cream at eleven in the morning is just as good.
I get comfortable, tucking my legs underneath me and Dan kicks his feet up onto the coffee table. Throughout the movie, I am consciously aware of Dan’s thigh pressed up against mine. I’m not sure if he is aware of it, but neither of us makes any effort to move apart.
Somehow, my head ends up resting on Dan’s shoulder. When I start sniffling, he pulls me in towards him so that my head now rests on his chest. I’ve just broken my cardinal rule of not crying during movies, all thanks to Dan. By the end of the movie, the tears are flowing freely and I am a complete mess.
As the credits roll, I swipe at the remainder of my tears. “Jeez, Dan. You have completely ruined me.”
“Well, look at that. Phoenix Pryde does have a vulnerable side.”
I swat at his chest. “Shut up.”
Dan laughs. “Sorry, but you’re adorable as hell when you’re crying.”
I grab a tissue from the coffee table to blow my nose. “That other movie you have better be a comedy.”
And thankfully, it is. There is only so much crying I can take in a day. By the end of the second movie, we are both starving.
“Let’s make pancakes,” I suggest.
Dan raises an eyebrow. “Last time you cooked something, you almost burned my house down.”
I remember that day all too well. We were at Dan’s house and both starving. Usually we just ordered pizza or something, but this time I told him I’d make us dinner. We had gotten distracted and I’d forgotten the pasta on the stove until almost all the water had evaporated and clumps of it was stuck at the bottom of the pot. Dan would never let me cook dinner again and I think it was safe for everyone that way.
“Oh, come on. I was like sixteen. Plus, I’ve improved heaps since then.”
Dan gives me a skeptical expression as he follows me into the kitchen. I start pulling some ingredients out, hoping that they are actually right. “Do you even know what you are doing?” he asks.
“Not a clue.”
Dan ends up pulling a recipe from his phone and because we are both just as hopeless as each other at cooking, our pancakes look nothing like the image pictured on the website. Dan takes a bite out of one that looks semi-decent and the expression on his face says it all.
“That bad, huh?”
Dan reluctantly swallows his mouthful down. “Even worse. I told you we should have put more sugar.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault you got me a dodgy recipe.”
“Oh, so it’s my fault now?” Dan says, taking a step towards me.
I grin impishly. “Yup.”
Before I have time to react, Dan swipes some left over flour from the counter, smearing it right over my cheek. I let out a squeal, trying to fight him off me but when something wet falls on my cheek, I realize he is going in for the pancake batter. So we’re playing this game. I grab a handful of batter, smearing right into his hair and face and topping it off with some flour. He looks so ridiculous with the flour stuck on his face and soon enough, my stomach aches with laughter.
