The War On Medicine

A Drunken Road Spill

Holly was staring Stephanie in the face, her finger to her mask. "You listen to me! Your country is messed up as shit right now. I think it's best if you weed-smoking, barbecuers stay inside."

Stephanie tried to look the senator in her dilated eyes. "Holly, we need that vaccine."

"Oh, shut it," Holly scowled. "Boys, let's roll out."

Her buff body guards followed her out the congress room door. Stephanie stood still in awe. "I can't believe what just happened."

Whitney thrust her head into her hands. "Now we'll never have the medicine! We'll be stuck indoors forever."

"I think we'll be fine, Miss Whitney." Opal sighed.

"But they're our ally," Whitney scoffed. "Who knows what they're willing to do to us."

"She makes a fair point," Jonathon said. "Australia and America have been hand-in-hand since World War II. We can't risk losing that bond."

Opal rolled her eyes. "Everyone, just go home. We'll worry about this in the morning."

Stephanie stormed out, steam almost blowing from her ears. Jonathon caught up to her. "Hey, is everything alright?"

"No, it's not!" Stephanie threw her arms up. "I can't believe Opal just let Holly walk out like that."

Jonathon shrugged. "Well, to even the score, she's gonna have a mad hangover tomorrow morning."

Stephanie snorted. "Yes, I suppose."

"Can I give you a ride home?" Jonathon asked, dangling his Lexus car keys.

"That sounds good," She smiled. The two walked through the gardens until they reached Jonathon's car. The peaceful night sky shone down on them.

Jonathon opened the door for Stephanie, and the two buckled their seatbelts. The car started with a loud rumble.

"How old is this car?" Stephanie jokingly asked.

"It's from 2009," Jonathon told her. "The cheapest one at the dealership."

They started driving out of the White House grounds, heading into the freeway. A cheesy pop song played from the static stereo. Jonathon couldn't help but steal glances at his co-worker. He felt guilty about it, though—I mean, Abigail! He already had a girlfriend, and she was great.

All of a sudden, a loud honk shook him out of his trance.

Behind them was a familiar stretch limo. A reddish-blond peeked her head out of the window.

"Holly?" Stephanie raised an eyebrow.

She nodded. Holly looked even drunker than before—her eyes drooping and her hands flopping over the windowsill. "You got that right, bitches!" 

"Holly, calm down!" Jonathon exclaimed. "Who's driving your limo?"

Holly snorted. "My body guard, Chris. Anyway, what are you guys doing here?"

"Driving home." Jonathon said.

Before Holly could answer, her head hit the car roof, sending her spilling out onto the road. Stephanie gasped. "Holly!"

The two politicians got out of the car, lifting her up by her limbs. Cars honked at them to move. Finally, they lifted Holly back into the limo.

"We're getting back in now!" Stephanie hollered to the drivers. Jonathon was surprised by her sudden gusto. 

Jonathon's car started, and they headed to Stephanie's house.

"Not even a thank you," Stephanie grumbled. "I mean, we saved her life back there."

Jonathon shook his head. "I think she's just too wasted to talk."

"But sober enough to insult." She scowled.

The two shared a small laugh, and kept driving. Soon, they reached Stephanie's small apartment. The complex had a cracked wall and a faint blue roof.

Stephanie unbuckled and opened the door. "Well, this is my place. Thanks for driving me, Jonathon."

"Anytime," He smiled. He felt a sudden urge to tell her how he felt, but he buried it deep. No, he simply couldn't tell her.

Jonathon watched her walk away, getting tireder by the minute. He started the car again, pulling away and heading home.