Sex ed is the best, Drake Parker thought as he strutted out into the hallway. Today's lesson, complete with pictures, would've been so much better if not for the fact that his throat was acting up. I mean, sure… sitting in class next to the hottest girls in school staring at some drawings of their anatomy always made his breathe come a little quicker, but nothing like this. It hadn't been anything concerning enough to make him leave class, but now his asthma was starting to make it seriously hard to breathe.
With every step Drake took towards his locker, his breathing got worse and worse. He wasn't even to the end of the hallway before he was on his knees, gagging and choking and trying to force some air into his heaving lungs.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, I can't breathe.
Drake had been careful about his asthma ever since a particularly bad attack two years ago. But to an "irresponsible punk" like Drake, to quote Mrs. Hayfer, being careful wasn't enough. His inhaler was in his locker, halfway across the school. The one thing that could save his life was far out of reach, and he couldn't even gather the strength to yell for help.
Pretty boy, too-cool-for-school Drake Parker was about to be taken out by his own fucking lungs, of all things. The panic hit him like a truck, and suddenly everything started to fade in and out.
Drake's airway felt entirely raw. Each breath caused a sharp, stabbing pain. If he'd had the strength, he would've cried out. But all he could do was lie on the cold, dusty floor, gasping and wheezing and clutching at his chest. The hallway started to turn black around Drake, and soon enough he couldn't see a thing. That's when he felt a gentle hand pick up and cradle his head.
Sweet, there are girls in heaven.
Seconds later, the hard plastic of an inhaler was placed into his mouth.
"Breathe, Drake. Come on, breathe for me," a voice kept repeating over and over. Soft, feminine, professional, yet with a tone of urgency that told Drake he wouldn't be drifting off to a home in the clouds just yet.
Suddenly, Drake started to feel the burning in his chest. An animalistic instinct kicked in, and he desperately choked in as much medicine as he could. Holding his breath was sheer agony, and tears started to stream down his face. Ten seconds later, Drake took another shuddering breath. The stabbing pain was worth the overwhelming relief that hit him then.
"Fifteen second lapse in respiration, he's starting to breathe now," the voice came again.
The inhaler stayed in Drake's mouth, and he got three more puffs before his vision started to fade back in. At first, the light was far too much. Drake's head started to ache just as much as his chest. But as the minutes passed, he started to open his eyes.
"Adolf Titler?" Drake sputtered as soon as he took in his savior. As much as he knew he should be thanking her, he was far too surprised at the fact that Mindy Crenshaw had saved his life to react appropriately. Her brown eyes, inches from his face, narrowed threateningly.
"Shut up and try to breathe normally," Mindy said, clearly annoyed.
Drake shut his eyes once more and did as she asked. It was still difficult, and it took all of his energy not to panic at his decreased lung function. But slowly, over the course of a few minutes, Drake's airways started to relax and open. The cool air felt amazing flowing in and out of his lungs. But his chest hurt like no pain he'd ever felt before. Right then, Drake was happy to take the pain of being alive over the nothingness of death.
"Pulse 105, respiration improving," Mindy rattled off to Josh, who sat wide-eyed next to her.
In spite of himself, Drake choked out a little laugh at Josh, which brought a hacking cough along with it. Mindy immediately shoved the inhaler back into his mouth and diffused the medicine, directing him to breathe in. After a moment of glaring at Drake, Mindy removed the inhaler and handed it to Josh, who fumbled and dropped it on the floor.
"Right, I don't think you need an ambulance and I'd like to minimize the amount of physical contact I have with you, so I'm going to go boil my skin off now," Mindy said briskly.
Standing, she straightened her skirt, picked her backpack back up, and took a long look at Drake.
"Try not to be such an idiot in the future. People that I hate only get one lifesaving effort on my part, and you've officially used yours," Mindy advised. As she started to stride off, she paused to look back and say, "take care of yourself, Drake."
Drake was left in the middle of the empty hallway, looking up into his stepbrother's eyes. Slowly, he pushed himself up to lean against the row of lockers.
"You have to be more careful," Josh said quietly.
"I know –" Drake started.
"No, seriously. You scared the shit out of me," Josh confessed.
"Literally?" Drake smirked. As much as he joked, Josh's red eyes and shaking hands were hard to ignore.
"You're lucky Mindy's better under pressure than I am. I totally choked. Almost as much as you," Josh joked. He extended a hand and pulled a woozy Drake to his feet, where he stumbled but stayed standing.
"You're sweaty," Drake said, wrinkling his nose.
"Yeah, that's my worry you're feeling. Don't do it again and don't get sweated on," Josh teased.
As they strode towards the nurse's office to get Drake checked out, a final thought came into Drake's head.
"Where did the she-witch get this?" he asked, holding up the little blue inhaler.
"It's hers," Josh replied easily.
Drake's face crumpled up in horror, and he threw the inhaler halfway to the gym.
"HER MOUTH GERMS ARE ON MY MOUTH? MINGLING WITH MY MOUTH GERMS? MY NICE, FRIENDLY MOUTH GERMS WITH HER EVIL LITTLE SPAWN OF SATAN MOUTH GERMS?"