He asks his mother to drive him.

John dropped his keys back into the bowl, knowing it was unsafe to try and drive himself in his condition. Instead, he turned back to the house, walking through the hallway with care not to wake anyone in his uncomfortable stumble.

His mother's room was at the end of the house, and he carefully knocked on the door to ensure he wouldn't disturb her. She was usually awake early anyway, he figured, and she'd be happy to take him if it meant helping her son.

'Mom?' he whispered through the gradually opening door. 'You awake?'

She mumbled a response before the door was fully opened, and sure enough, his mother was sitting in bed, propped up on a pillow against the backboard, typing away on her laptop. At least he hadn't woken her.

'John? Is that you?' she asked. 'What are you doing up so early?'

He laughed, a painful gesture as his groin complained, and walked into the room. 'I... I need to ask you something.'

His mother, hearing the serious tone in his voice, closed the laptop and sat up a little straighter. 'What is it?'

'Could you, uh, give me a ride? To the doctor,' he finished.

'The doctor,' she gasped, throwing her blanket away and immediately jumping to her feet. She came around the bed, her thin nightgown clinging to her skin with the movement, full of parental concern. Just as she reached him, a sudden burst of discomfort grew from his crotch and **** him to lean down onto the bed.

'Jesus, John, what's wrong? Did something happen?' He tried to explain, but couldn't form words for a few moments. 'Look, I know I'm not as old and wise as some of your friends' moms, but tell me what's wrong, and maybe I can help. I don't want to see you in pain like this.'

John looked up at his mother from his leaning position, trying to think through the pain.