"Ashley, I don’t know about this," I mutter as we get out of her car.
"Spencer, relax! You’ll be fine," she says, grabbing my hand.
"I can’t believe we’re doing this. You owe me one."
"Sure,sure."
Ashley and I just arrived at the school gym. For some reason, the American Red Cross is having a blood drive here today, and Ashley is set on giving up a pint of blood for them. I, of course, am being dragged into it. Thanks a lot, Red Cross. We walk into the gym and up to a table where a rather large woman is sitting.
"Read this cover to cover, then sign in," she says, handing us each a booklet. We sit down and scan the booklets. Don’t ask me what they said because I didn’t really read anything. We sign in and sit back down.

"Next," a nurse calls after a couple of minutes. Ashley and I both get up and walk over to the nurse, who sits us down infront of two laptops, each on either side of a big board. We can’t see eachother now. The nurse sits down infront of me first.
"Do you have ID?" she asks sweetly. I hand her my ID and she enters my information into the laptop. "I’m gonna take a blood sample to test your iron and make sure you have enough blood to give," she says. "Hold out your hand." I give her my hand, and she pricks my middle finger.
"Ow," I whimper. That hurt. She puts my blood on a machine that reads 14.3. She then takes my blood pressure.
"Perfect," she smiles. "Now I need you to take this quiz and let me know when you’re done." She turns the laptop to me and moves over to repeat the process with Ashley. I take the quiz, which consists mostly of questions concerning sex and traveling. When I’m done, the nurse directs me over to the next station; the blood donor station. Shit.

I lay down on a hospital gurney and stare at the ceiling while I wait for a nurse. Soon, Ashley is on a gurney next to me. She winks at me.
"I’m gonna die," I tell her. I’m suddenly very, very nervous.
"Spencer, you’re not gonna die," she laughs.
The nurse finally comes over. "Are you allergic to iodine or latex?" she asks. We both tell her no. "Clench your fist for me," she tells me, so I do. She marks the curve of my arm with a marker, then swabs cool iodine over it. "You’ll just feel a little pinch," she says.
"Ow," I say for the second time today as she pokes the needle into me. A little pinch? You just stabbed me with a needle, lady. She continues to do the same thing to Ashley. I look down as Ashley’s blood starts dripping into the bag next to her bed. Oh my god what am I doing here? Donating blood a pint of my blood in a bag.