“$13.25.” The cashier says. I usually cringe at fast food bills totaling more than 10 bucks, but this time I wasn’t feeling cheap, I hand the cashier the money and wait for my change and the drinks, I look back for a second and see Ashley sitting on a stool facing the outside window, her hands are folded in on her lap and her head hangs heavy. Her legs dangle and sway off the high stool, crossed at the ankles. That high, leveled Atlanta sun fixes it self right in front of her, sunbeams blast through the floor to ceiling window of the restaurant, outlining her body and if I was painter or photographer I bet the scene would of made quite the poetic picture. “Portrait of a sick girl“, I’d call it. She’s hang it in her living room, she’d love it. I sigh and the cashier hands me the change and I grab the drinks and walk over to her. Two giant sized thick Styrofoam cups filled with frozen blended drinks with strange names. The stools are so high I have to put the smoothies down first and hop up to the cushion.

‘God you’re so short.” She says reaching for her cup then checking the lid to make sure the contents are orange and not pink.

“Yeah, it’s because of my scoliosis, crooked spine. If I would of got that surgery...”I pause and think that maybe it’s too early to talk about surgery, buts it too late now, so I finish quickly. “I’d be a few inches taller.”
We sit for a minute and she picks up the cup like she’s searching for something. She looks at me and blinks perplexed.

“Can I help you?” I ask glibly.

‘Where the hell are the straws?” She asks, blinking. I’d forgotten to ask for some, I jump out of my seat a frantically scurry to the counter. I must of looked really odd because I’m usually that accommodating to her, if anything I‘m borderline selfish when it comes to my dealings with Ashley, I mean here I am, staying with her for a week in Atlanta for free, having her drive me around, trying to shag her friends. She’s a nice girl who prone to bad luck. Today I went with her to a doctors appointment. We were just suppose to get the results of her biannual check up and psychical for her job. We waited in the lobby for about an hour until they called us back. She was angry and was very short with the nurses. She kept saying ‘If I’m not terminal then there’s no way it should take this long.”