by Penny Reid
We sat waiting for hours. Then I bumped into Luke and within minutes Dr. McElroy was at our side. Is Luke doing a favor for me? Or is Dr. McElroy doing a favor for Luke?
The orderly is a tiny girl who introduces herself as Kaylee. She doesn't look big enough to maneuver an occupied hospital bed through the halls, but she unlocks the bed wheels with a confident flip of her foot and weaves us out of the ER with an ease that belies her size.
I express my admiration at her strength and she laughs. "I'm a mom," she tells me. "A grown man in a rolling bed is easier than toddlers in a double stroller, trust me."
I laugh and drop back as she works the bed around a tight corner and onto an elevator. She pushes the button for five and chats with my grandmother while I check my phone again. I should reply. Right?
Thank you.
You're welcome, Sophie.
How did you get my number?
Hospital database. You're listed as an emergency contact on your grandfather's file.
That seems like a misuse of the hospital database. And a violation of HIPPO laws.
HIPPO!
Damn autocorrect! HIPPA.
I think your admonishment lost its luster at the word hippo.
Yeah. A little.
Can you keep a secret, Sophie?
In general, or yours?
Mine.
Sure.
Then it's our secret.
I bite my lip to suppress a smile as I slip the phone into my pocket. Kaylee expertly guides us through the doorway of room 5853 and locks the bed wheels into place before wishing Grandpa a speedy recovery. I stay and get them settled in. More for me than them. I need to know they're okay before I leave.
They tell me they got a good offer on the house and that they've found a couple of places in Islamorada, Florida. It's a village of islands located in the Florida Keys, they tell me. Average highs of eighty-nine degrees, sunny days and clear water for snorkeling. My grandparents are only in their sixties. They’re active and in great shape, they’d love a climate that allowed more time outdoors.
I encourage them to take the offer and go. Don't spend another winter in Pennsylvania when Florida is just a short plane ride away. I think they're finally accepting that I am graduating in the spring and I won't be coming back to live with them.
I text Mike and ask if he can pick me up and drive me back to campus. He agrees, so I give my grandparents one last hug and head to the lobby to wait.
Exiting the elevator when it reaches the lobby, I find it's busier than earlier. I take two steps before I spot Luke. He's standing, hands in pockets, staring right at me. He's talking to another doctor in a white lab coat with a stethoscope draped around his neck.
I falter a moment. Is he waiting for me? Why? I decide I'm not going to interrupt him and keep walking, intending to find a bench out front where I can sit while I wait for Mike to pick me up.
I exit the hospital and I'm hit with a blast of cold air. Maybe I'll wait inside instead. I turn around and head back in, finding Luke's eyes still on me. It's weird. There's nowhere to sit where I can still see the cars pulling up, so I stand in front of the glass windows instead.
"I talked to the lead tech in radiology and Dr. McElroy. His back and neck are fine. They'll just keep him for observation on the concussion."
Luke is right beside me. I have to look up a little to see his face. I'm not usually standing right next to him. He's taller than I thought.
"Thank you. Whoever you talked to, it worked. We finally saw a doctor and he got moved right away." I untie my hoodie from around my waist and slip my arms inside the sleeves.
Luke shrugs, his gaze roaming over my face. "How'd the condoms work out?"
What? I'm stunned. He can't ask me that. I look at him, but he's not backing down in the slightest. He's staring at me like he expects I'll answer him.
"I haven't used them yet." I'm not sure why I'm answering this man. His question is so out of line. Yet I feel compelled to respond to him.
"Are you going to?"
What exactly is he asking me? If I'm planning on having sex? Or if I'm planning on being safe when I have sex?
"Yes."
He's silent now. His jaw ticks.
"You've waited a long time."
"I have." Where is he going with this?
"Is he worth it?" Luke's eyes are dark, yet his expression is curious.
Oh. That's where he's going with this conversation. Some kind of parental 'does he respect you' second-guessing. I'm twenty-one. I don't need this from him.
"Maybe it's not about him. Maybe it's about me." I'm angry now. Who is he to question me about any of this? And why am I answering him? Because of my misplaced lust?
A car honks outside and my attention is diverted from Luke's face. Mike is outside, idling in the no-parking lane, trying to get my attention.
"Is that him?" Luke is standing even closer than he was before.
"Yes."
"Sophie—"
I cut him off. I've had enough of this. "Thanks, Dr. Miller, for everything. I'll use the condoms, I promise. I'll even YouTube directions so I don't screw it up, okay? So don't worry about me. I've got it covered." I laugh. "Literally, I'll make sure it's covered, okay?"
He looks surprised. Does no one call him on his bullshit?
"My ride is here." I shake my head. "My boyfriend is here." I correct myself. "Thank you for your help with my grandfather and your repeated safe-sex talks. I promise you I will not show up at the clinic knocked up."
"Sophie." Now Luke sounds pissed. What the hell is he pissed about? I don't care for his tone. Who is this man to me? No one. Mike is outside waiting for me. Mike who never gives me mixed signals. Mike who makes it clear he wants me. Mike who is not an inappropriate match.
"Thanks, Dr. Miller. Goodbye." I walk away.
Chapter 7
"Let's go!" Everly sings out as the door swings shut behind her. She's grinning at me as if we have exciting plans. She's just walked into my dorm room unannounced, coat on, black hair pulled into a low pony tail. She's ready to go.
I'm lying across my bed cuddling a textbook for my business ethics class. I'm ready to go nowhere.
"Where are we going?" I ask. I'm pretty sure I know, but I am the queen of denial.
Incidentally, my ex-boyfriend Scott is now very happily dating. A personal trainer, named James. I saw them once on 34th Street, holding hands and laughing about some shared joke. They'd looked happy and I'd felt a wave of jealousy. Not over Scott. I'd always known on some level that we were just coasting together—Scott until he came out of the closet and me until I felt willing to take the next step. Because that step? It's a risk.
My mom got pregnant at sixteen. I have no idea how careful she was or wasn't. From what I remember of her she wasn't careful about anything. All I know is that I never want to be her. I never want to repay my grandparents for taking me in and raising me by repeating that cycle. And I never want to put myself in a position where I'd have to choose between abortion, adoption or asking for help.
Sex was one big risk. Is that paranoid? To avoid sex on the small chance that the pill would fail and I'd end up pregnant? Maybe. But my early years left a big impact on me. I’m not going there, so Luke can shove his safe-sex speeches up his ass. I’m the last girl who needs to hear it.
So when I saw Scott and his boyfriend on the street that day I felt a little wistful over what they had together. Who doesn't want that?
Mike has been flirting with me since junior year. I ignored him, mostly. It wasn't that serious. He was always with one girl or another. When we started classes this fall we ended up in Business Ethics together and this time when he flirted, I encouraged it.
"You know where we're going, Sophie. Your pubes are not going to wax themselves,” Everly says, interrupting my thoughts.
"Please never say the word pubes again."
Everly grabs a hoodie off the back of my chair and tosses it at me. "Let's go. We have appoin
tments."
"How'd you get in the building anyway?" I ask as I pull on my old Uggs and grab my bag.
"I bumped into Jeannie out front, she buzzed me in."
Exiting the front door of Jacobsen, we take the sidewalk towards the nearest university bus stop. It's a beautiful afternoon in Philadelphia. The air has that crisp fresh smell that only comes with fall.
I pull the sweatshirt over my head as we walk, stuffing my cell phone into the front pocket. "Anything I need to know before this appointment?" I ask, glancing at Everly as we walk.
"No. Stop being a pussy. You're gonna get naked with Leah. She's gonna apply wax to your lady bits and then rip the hair out by the root until you're as smooth as a baby's ass."
"Huh. It's strange how apprehensive I am about this based on your vivid description." I swerve to avoid a cyclist. "I mean, it sounds great. It must just be me."
"Clearly it's just you," Everly responds as we board the student bus. We can take this to the edge of campus and then walk down Sansom Street.
"What are you doing this weekend?" I ask Everly as she frowns at her cell phone.
"Going home," she replies, thumbs flying over the touch screen of her phone, tapping out a text. "My brother is getting married."
"Oh! That sounds fun." I think it would have been fun to grow up with siblings. Everly's brother is quite a bit older than her, but still, a big brother would have been nice. "Are you taking the train?" I know Everly grew up somewhere outside of New York City. The train between Philadelphia and New York is a common way to travel.
"I better not be taking the train," she replies with a final tap to her phone. She smiles.
I'm confused by her response. "Is someone driving down to pick you up?"
"No." She crosses her legs and rests the phone on her thigh. "Professor Camden is driving me home."
I'm never sure how seriously to take this crush she has on Professor Camden. Though lately it's bordering on an obsession. She's mentioned him on and off for years, but she's never lacked a boyfriend. Plus he's a professor.
"Really?" I ask. "Professor Camden is driving you to New York?" I know I sound dubious. Professor Camden is really good-looking and ten years older than us. At least. Not to mention a professor. So completely off limits.
I'm not judging. My crush on Luke turned out to be even more inappropriate than I'd imagined. I just don't want Everly to get hurt. Everly tends to get what she wants, but I'm afraid this time she wants something she just can't have.
Everly opens her mouth to respond when her phone rings. She glances at the screen and smirks before giving me a huge smile. "Yes, he is." She presses the green answer button and brings the phone to her ear. In a sweet voice I’m not familiar with she answers, "Yes, Professor Camden?"
She pauses, I assume listening.
"So now you want me to stop with the professor title, Finn?" Her voice is steady, but her foot bounces as she talks. "I'll be ready at eight." Her foot is still now, and she's picking at a loose thread in a hole in her jeans. "I live in Stroh, Finn. I'll be waiting out front at eight. Bye." She pushes the red end call button on her phone and sighs.
I glance at her, a thousand questions written on my face.
"Finn Camden is my brother's best friend. He's also the best man in his wedding this weekend. I'm a bridesmaid." She shoves the cell into her pocket. "He didn't want to drive me to New York, so I texted my brother and told him I was going to have to take the train alone late tonight." She shrugs and offers a little pout. "Because I knew he'd tell Finn to drive me and Finn can't tell my brother that he doesn't want to be stuck in a car alone with me. Due to my"—she pauses and does the air quote sign with her fingers—"inappropriate advances."
"Wow." There's so much to respond to in that statement I'm not sure where to begin.
"Right? He's being ridiculous. I don't have that much time left."
"Time?" I question.
"Yeah. We're graduating in seven months. I don't have any reason to stay in Philly after that. This is the optimal time window in which to make him fall in love with me."
"Um."
"He's finally single," she continues on. "I need him to accept us before he finds someone else and before I graduate."
"Accept you?"
"That last girlfriend, just no." She shakes her head. "He has no idea how much he's going to appreciate me in comparison. I guess I should thank her for that. But I won't."
I'm not sure how to respond to that, but the conversation ends as we've reached our stop. We step out onto Sansom with Everly leading the way.
"This place looks sketchy," I say as we climb the stairs of doom.
"Relax. I would not let you get a sketchy Brazilian wax." Everly pulls open the door. "Have a little faith, bitch."
Everly checks us in as I take a seat to wait. A minute later a pretty girl comes out from a back room and hugs Everly. She glances over at me and smiles. "Hi! I'm Leah." Wait. This is our waxer? She looks like she's only a few years older than we are. I was imagining a nice older woman I'd never bump into again.
"So which one of you wants to go first?" Leah looks between us. This girl has the most perfect eyebrows I've ever seen. I wonder if she waxes them herself.
"She'll go first," we both say at the same time.
"Oh, no, you're going first. Before you chicken out."
"Fine," I grumble in reply. I get off the couch and so does Everly.
"What are you doing?" I ask her.
"I'm coming with."
"Uh, no. That cannot be normal. I draw the line at having you watch."
"Yeah, that is not okay. You can't come with if Sophie doesn't want you to," Leah states firmly. I'm surprised. She's got a hippie-chick vibe and a nose ring. I thought she'd invite Everly back with open arms.
Yes! "Yeah, Everly, that is not okay." I smile smugly and wave on my way into the back room.
Chapter 8
"Take off your pants and lie on your back." Leah is stirring a pot of wax on a counter set up along the wall.
I falter for a moment. Just take off my pants? I pictured her leaving the room and me getting at least a paper gown to cover myself with. Everly was wrong. The gynecologist visit was less awkward than this.
Leah turns her head and sees me just standing there. "Your underwear too. We're doing a full Brazilian, right?"
Okay then. I nod and toe my shoes off without bending over. I unzip and slide my jeans off before folding them and placing them on an empty chair with my bag. So, my underwear. This is weird. I slip them off too and look at my folded jeans. I should tuck my underwear under my jeans, right? I know I'm standing here naked but I don't want her to see my underwear just lying on the chair.
I glance down. Socks. Dammit with the socks again. On or off? On. Definitely on. She's not waxing my feet. I hop onto the table and lie back. No poster on the ceiling here. I stuff my hands into the pocket of my hoodie. It's so weird that I'm only naked from the waist down.
Leah turns away from the pot of wax and inspects me. Literally. "Okay, let's see what we have to work with here. Pull your knees up and drop them to the side. Like a frog."
"There's no poster on the ceiling!" I blurt out.
"What?" Leah looks confused.
"Um. You should have a poster. On the ceiling. For me to look at. Or maybe a TV?" I look at Leah. She's not looking at me anymore though. She's got a big popsicle stick of wax in her hand and she's about to slather it on my body.
This is it. I'm about to die. Of humiliation. My hand bumps the cell still stuffed in my hoodie pocket. I should send a goodbye message. I pull out my phone. I text Everly and tell her I hate her.
The first coat of wax hits my skin. That's not so bad. It's warm. Kinda pleasant even. Minus the fact that I'm lying half naked on a table in front of a woman I just met.
Leah drops the stick in the trash and presses a cloth on top of the wax. Pressing it down with her hand. Yeah. This is fantastic.
Not.
Leah
presses one hand flat against my abdomen and rips the wax strip off with the other.
I wait for a blinding pain combined with a flash of white light inviting me to cross over to the other side. Ouch. That hurt. But I don't think it's going to kill me. It wasn't so bad. It burns a little.
It's more embarrassing than anything. I let out a huge breath I didn't realize I was holding.
Leah's back with another stick full of wax. Spreading and ripping. "Looks good!" she chirps from between my thighs. "Your boyfriend is going to love this!"
"Yeah," I reply. "I'm sure he will. So, do you wax yourself?"
"Oh, no," Leah replies. "We wax each other."
"What?"
"The other waxers. We just grab whoever's not busy and do each other."
"You let your co-workers wax your vagina? People you see every day? And meet after work for drinks?"
Leah laughs. "Yeah. Who cares?" She shrugs. "You have to be careful with co-workers though. Sometimes we mess with each other for a laugh."
"Practical jokes with wax?" I ask.
"Exactly. One time"—she has to stop because she's laughing—"one time Laura waxed Katie’s bush into the shape of a goldfish cracker." I try to discreetly check out my vagina in case Everly's arranged for some practical joke to my nether regions. "Katie was into some 80's phase where she was only doing her bikini line." Leah has regained her composure. "Totally unacceptable, obviously."
"Obviously." I don't agree, but I'm half naked on a table and Leah is controlling the destiny of my vaginal hair, so I nod.
"I mean, get some leg warmers if you're going retro. Am I right?" Thankfully Leah doesn't wait for me to respond to that before continuing. "So Katie doesn't even notice. Until that night when her husband goes down on her and starts laughing so hard they have to stop." Leah tries not to laugh, which causes a snort to escape.
"So what did she do?" I ask. "Fix it herself? Or live with it?"
