Finding the courage to ask Drew to come with me to Dr. Taylor’s of
fice had been difficult, to say the least. The tension between us has only grown, given we are both on edge, waiting for the results. I need him in case things go wrong. The thought alone makes my stomach churn, and several times over the past few days, I’ve found myself hyperventilating, driven by panic attacks. I don’t have the guts to tell him, worried he will send me to the hospital for a check-up. The last thing I need is to be in the hospital again.
Dr. Taylor’s quick to read out my results—negative for any STDs. Accompanied with the results is a lecture on safe sex. Not only does Dr. Taylor give me multiple pamphlets on how to practice safe sex, he also gives me a handful of condoms. With Drew in the room, my embarrassment is taken to a whole new level. Vaginal, oral, anal, you name it—Dr. Taylor goes on and on. I don’t expect to be sexually active with a man anytime soon, but then again, my mind is only thinking about one person.
The person squirming uncomfortably beside me.
Then, it finally hits me.
This nightmare is over.
My body instantly breathed a sigh of relief when he gave me the all-clear, but soon followed with heavy, drawn-out sobs.
Dr. Taylor leaves the room allowing us a moment of privacy.
“How could I be so stupid?” I whimper, grabbing a tissue from the box sitting beside me, rambling utter nonsense. “I had the safe-sex talk in school. They even did the whole banana and condom thing. Sure, I thought it was hilarious at the time, and maybe my witty jokes which were a hoot in class distracted me from actually paying attention. I mean, that bubble thing you have to do… is that necessary? And what happens if you don’t? Do the sperm free themselves or what?”
Drew rubs my thigh letting out a breath. “We’ve all had our moments, Zo. This was just a stupid mistake…” he pauses, then continues, “Just… just next time listen to the doctor and be safe.”
“There’s no next time,” I blurt out.
He shakes his head trying to rid the involuntary smile gracing his lips. “C’mon, you’re not joining the nunnery.”
“Why not? Sex only leads to trouble. What a mess this has been. Plus, I read an article that nunnery enrollments are low. They predicted by the time 2040 rolls around, we could be nunless.”
“That’s absurd. I don’t know why or how you end up reading articles like that. And besides, if you do become a nun, some guy out there will be missing out on something good,” he says with a low voice removing his hand from my thigh.
I purse my lips, unsure of where to go from here. I swiftly change the subject wanting to leave this sterile environment that makes my skin crawl. “Can we get out of here? Could we maybe grab a bite to eat for lunch? I think we need to talk, Drew.”
“I’ve… um… actually promised my dad I would visit for a couple of days since the hospital allowed me to use some leave.”
“Oh,” I say, a little hurt. “Okay, so you’ll be back when?”
“Hmm… Friday, I guess.”
“Are you still coming out for my birthday?”
“Sure.” He smiles unconvincingly before walking out of the room and saying goodbye.
***
The apartment is lonely without Drew. True to his word, he left that day with his bag packed for his dad’s. I wanted to tell him to stay, to be with me. I wanted to open up about my feelings toward him. I wanted to be honest about how I felt that night when he touched me, and tell him how sick I am of walking on eggshells when we’re in the same room.
But that seemed so selfish, and my heart didn’t want to hurt him anymore.
The one thing I have learned throughout this is my ability to hurt the ones I love. I don’t want to be that person. I am hell-bent on changing my life and finally making grown-up decisions.
Drew’s absence has created more time for me to think, and when Zoey Richards thinks, no good can come from it. I busy myself with cleaning the apartment—every single inch of it. Even getting down on my hands and knees to scrub the orange stain I left on the hallway rug when I was on a bender one night and accidentally spilled a jar of Tang on it. The powder was dry and could have easily been vacuumed had my tears not fallen on the same spot. The rare jar of Tang was a gift from Drew. I’d gone on and on about how much I loved the stuff when I was growing up. One day, he surprised me with it. I was shocked, ecstatic, and extremely thankful for the thoughtful gesture.
And let’s go back to why I was on a bender on a Wednesday night. Jess. He drank every night, afternoon, and morning, and somehow I was dubbed the party pooper for not joining him. The more I thought about him, the easier it became to let go.
He didn’t care about my feelings. He wasn’t the one constantly nagging me to continue studying to further my career, nor was he the one circling job opportunities in the paper and leaving sticky notes with motivational quotes on them next to the pot of coffee some mornings.
Draining my bank account was his priority, making me pay anytime we went anywhere.
He wasn’t the one to secretly pay our electricity bill and not tell me about it, saying it got lost in the mail.
And he didn’t buy me a jar of Tang to cheer me up.