mug, I told her everything. It was easier than telling Evan and my dads—at least Roxie already knew that I had HIV.
“You’ve only been positive for a month?” Roxie said when I was finished.
“Yeah. And my dads have only known for a week.”
“Oh, Lucy. How are you doing?”
“I don’t know. I’m a little all over the place,” I admitted.
“Well, listen, you have to keep coming to the meetings. Trust me, they help. I started going to them in middle school. It was nice to have a place to go where there were other people like me, you know?”
“I guess.”
“Plus, I like having you there. We don’t get a lot of people our age.” She shrugged. “I don’t really know why.”
“Probably because most people our age aren’t stupid enough to do what I did,” I said bitterly.
“Lucy, come on. You’re not stupid, you just made a mistake. It happens.”
I crossed my arms and slumped down in my chair. “Some mistake.”
“Well, what would you call it?”
“Off the top of my head? How about ‘perfectly karmic punishment for the most ungrateful, spoiled brat the world has ever seen’?”
“Punishment?”
“Yes. Punishment.”
“So what, you’re just going to keep blaming yourself?”
“Who else do I have to blame?”
She pursed her lips. “You know, being stuck in this mindset is seriously not helping your—” Brriiiiiinnnnggg. Roxie’s phone. “Sorry, I have to get this,” she said, and flipped the phone open. “Hey, buddy…Yup, I’m on my way home right now. Tell Mrs. Wu I’ll be home soon…love you too…okay, bye.” She hung up and turned her attention back to me. “I have to go. I didn’t realize how late it was. My brother stays with our neighbor when I’m at work, but she gets cranky when he’s there all day.”
“No problem,” I said. I wasn’t in the mood to talk anymore, anyway.
“See you Tuesday, right?” she asked.
I exhaled. “Yeah, see you Tuesday.”
Roxie gathered up her stuff, took one last swig of her coffee, and dashed out the door.
It was dark out now, and I should have started making my way home too. But I couldn’t stop thinking about my “mistake.” My own words echoed in my head: Who else do I have to blame?
I would go home soon.
But there was something I had to do first.
24
Shadowland
The temperature had dropped considerably, and I was glad I’d stuffed my winter hat and gloves in my bag before I’d left the house this morning. I tugged my jacket snugly around myself as I walked.
It was only a few blocks to Spring Street, but when I reached the intersection of Spring and Mercer, I had a choice to make: right or left? Most details of that drunken night and hungover morning were still foggy in my memory and I couldn’t remember the exact address, or even the cross street. All I remembered was the red door.
I took a chance and turned left, squinting through the dark and the strange glare the streetlights cast on shop windows, searching each doorway I passed. When I reached the eastern end of Spring, I knew I had chosen wrong. So I doubled back.
Fifteen minutes later, I found it.
It was smaller than I’d remembered, and the shade of red was darker and more muted than the angry burning lava it had been in my mind, but I was certain. This was Lee’s apartment building. There were ten buzzers, two for each floor.
I did some quick math: I’d run down four flights of stairs that awful morning, so Lee’s apartment must have been on the fifth floor. Funny, the things you remember.
The buzzers were labeled.
5A: J. Gonzalez.
5B: L. Harrison.
I closed my eyes and counted to five, my stomach doing somersaults. Then I slowly reached out and pressed 5B.
The next several seconds seemed to last an eternity, as fear hijacked my not-so-thought-out plan.
What was I doing here?
What was I going to say?
What if he didn’t even remember me?
Suddenly I knew I had to get as far away from this building as possible. I shouldn’t have come here. What was I thinking? But panic had locked my knees, and I couldn’t move.
Maybe he wasn’t home. That would be good.
“Hello?” a voice came through the speaker.
It was him. My mouth went dry.
“Hello?” he said again.
Don’t say anything, the voice in my head commanded. Just stay quiet, and he’ll go away.
“Um, Lee?” I heard myself say.
Lucy, you stupid, stupid girl.
“Yeah? Who’s there?”
“You, um, probably don’t remember me. My name is Lucy, and we, um, met a couple of months ago…”
There was a long pause.