My Life After Now - By Jessica Verdi Page 0,20

have much experience with children. I’d never even been a babysitter.

“Where’s my mom?” the older boy asked.

“Oh, she’ll be right back. She’s just talking to the lady in that room.”

“Why?”

Umm.

“Because the lady has some information for her.”

“Why?”

I sighed. “I don’t know, kid.”

“Are you waiting to talk to the lady too?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

How did I get myself into these situations?

“It’s a long story.”

“I like stories,” he said.

“Well, this is a grown-up story.”

He studied me. “Are you a grown-up?”

“I…”

Good question. I sure as hell didn’t feel like one right now.

Finally, finally, the woman came out of the office and collected her children. She didn’t even say thank you. I watched them leave.

“Number sixty-eight?”

I turned—the office lady was looking at me expectantly. I was the only one left.

I took a deep breath and followed her into the office.

“I’m Diane Sullivan, the clinic’s social worker,” she said, extending her hand. “It’s nice to meet you”—she took my ticket and consulted her chart—“Lucy M.”

I shook her hand and sat down.

As Diane flipped through my file, my heart was sprinting. I’d never believed in psychics or clairvoyance or that kind of thing, but my intuition was screaming at me right now. Somehow, I knew something was wrong. I could feel it.

Diane looked me in the eye. Her expression was smooth.

“Lucy, your rapid HIV test result is reactive,” she said in a calm, neutral tone.

I stared at her. What did that mean? Didn’t she know this was not the time for being cryptic? “Reactive?” I repeated.

“Yes. That means you have received a preliminary positive result.”

Positive. That was a word I could understand.

An involuntary gurgle escaped my throat, and suddenly the world was closing in on me, disappearing from the outside edges in. I thrust my head between my knees.

Positive.

I couldn’t breathe.

Why can’t I breathe? I asked the demons in the room. Their black, beady eyes were on me. I felt them. Where’s the air? What did you do?

The demons didn’t say anything. They just watched me. Judging. Planning.

Something touched my back. I jumped out of my skin. “Don’t touch me!” I shrieked at the demons, spending the last of my air. “You’re trying to kill me!”

But the voice that answered didn’t make sense. It didn’t match the demons’ greedy, evil faces. “Lucy, breathe with me. In…out…”

How do they know my name?

But I obeyed. I had no choice.

“In…out…that’s right…in…”

I gasped and choked. The oxygen that did manage to get in was soothing.

“Very good, Lucy. In…out…in…”

After a few minutes, I was able to sit upright again. I opened my eyes. The demons were gone. Or hiding.

Diane was back.

My natural breathing returned, and I didn’t have to focus on getting air anymore. But I still felt sick to my stomach.

“Are you all right, Lucy?” Diane asked, calm as ever.

No. Of course I wasn’t.

But I was coherent enough now to know that she was talking about my immediate state, not the bigger picture. I gave a tiny nod.

“Now, we have a lot to discuss.” She flipped through my file again, taking her time to review the pages where Marie had written my answers down. “Given your established risk behaviors, it’s crucial that you make some changes so you don’t expose anyone else to the virus.” She looked up at me. “And it’s also very important for you to have a reliable support system to help you work through this confusing time. Have you thought about who you will discuss your result with?”

I stopped listening to Diane and her social worker dribble.

My risk behaviors, she said. I didn’t have risk behaviors. I just made one stupid mistake. I didn’t deserve this.

Suddenly, I couldn’t sit in this room one second longer.

I pushed out of my chair and ran. Diane called after me, but I shut her out. I ran down the hall, through the waiting room, through door number one, up the stairs, through door number two, and into the real world. I didn’t care that people were staring. I didn’t care that I looked like hell. I just kept running.

I ran until my feet screamed. Then I slowed to a walk and glanced at a street sign. I’d gone over forty blocks. But I kept going.

I felt empty. It’s the only way to describe it. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t cry. Positive. It was as if the word was some sort of incantation, and now that it had been uttered, a spell had been cast. Diane had sucked all the reason, hope, and life out of me, and all I’d been left with was