by Elle Thorpe
Doctor Sloane folded her hands on the table and cleared her throat before looking Low square in the eye. “Your results were positive, Low. I’m sorry, but you have HIV.”
25
Low
Silence ripped through the room as shrill and piercing as one long scream. Hell, maybe it wasn’t the silence, maybe the screaming came from somewhere inside me, because suddenly, I couldn’t hear anything else. Positive. HIV Positive.
I looked at Reese. Had she said anything? I didn’t know.
Positive.
I swallowed thickly. The doctor asked me something, but I couldn’t hear her over the noise in my head. God, it was loud. I nodded at her dumbly, having no idea what I was agreeing to, but knowing that I needed to give some sort of answer. I nodded again, for good measure, before I pushed to my feet and looked down at the two women still sitting on their chairs. The noise became a roar, like an angry sea, pounding on the rocks. I rubbed at my temples, but nothing I did made it any better.
Reese looked up at me with tears shining in her beautiful brown eyes. Why was she crying? I reached a hand out to her, and when my skin touched the silky smoothness of her face, she pressed her cheek into my hand. The roaring quieted.
Positive.
My hand dropped from her face and I spun on my heel, aiming for the door, not entirely sure if my legs would make it that far. I heard Reese call out, heard the doctor say my name. I could hear again, but I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to hear, didn’t want to be in that room. And I sure as hell didn’t want to see that heartbroken look of pity on Reese’s beautiful face. As much as I loved her, I didn’t want that.
I let myself out into the hallway, the door slamming behind me. I took a sharp left turn then a right and another left, finding myself in an unfamiliar hallway. This wasn’t where I’d come in. I was lost in the maze of clinical hallways, but it didn’t matter, as long as I was putting distance between myself and that room. Between myself and the women inside it and their quiet pity that made my stomach churn. I’d done this to myself. I didn’t deserve their pity.
The neon green exit sign filled me with relief. I’d lost count of how many random turns I’d made before I saw it, but an exit meant I could leave that room behind me. I pushed through the doors and sucked in gulps of the fresh air that slapped me on the other side. It wasn’t quite dark yet, but the streetlights had come on, and the city street was bustling with peak hour traffic. All these people trying to get home, while I had no idea where I was headed.
I’d expected to see the car park, but I’d exited onto the other side of the clinic. It didn’t matter. I didn’t have my keys; they were still in Reese’s bag. Not caring which way I went, I moved blindly down the road. Run. I needed to run. That would clear my head and take control of my pounding heart. But my feet wouldn’t cooperate. I stumbled on the uneven footpath. A woman pulled her young son closer to her as they rushed past me. I didn’t blame her. I wouldn’t want my child anywhere near me either. Finally finding control of my feet, I broke into a run.
I don’t know how long I ran for, aimlessly turning corners and cutting through parks. I puffed heavily when I eventually sank down into a bus shelter bench, unable to push my body any further. The wooden planks were rough and splintered under my hands, the shelter walls covered in graffiti.
I leant forward, my elbows resting on my knees, my head propped up with my hands while I tried to force air into my lungs. Jesus Christ. Positive? I was HIV positive. What the fuck was I supposed to do with that? I thought I’d prepared myself for this, thought I was ready for it, but damn if Reese’s positivity hadn’t rubbed off on me a little bit. She’d been so hopeful. And I’d gone and ruined everything.
“You getting on, buddy?” a male voice called, and I lifted my head wearily. I hadn’t even heard the large bus pull in, but there it was with its doors open, and its driver and passengers staring at me. The driver gave me a curious glance. “You okay, mate?”
I nodded and pushed to my feet.
Climbing on board, I stopped in front of the driver, patting my back pocket and thankfully realising that my wallet was still tucked inside. I handed the driver my card.
“Which stop?” He took the card from my hands and hesitated over the card reader.
I looked at him blankly. “Anywhere.” My voice sounded hollow, even to my own ears. “Anywhere but here.”
He shrugged as I pushed past and sank down on the nearest seat. The bus pulled out into the evening peak hour traffic and I shifted uncomfortably as something in my pocket jabbed me in the thigh.
I pulled out my phone and stared at the number of missed calls. Had it been ringing this whole time and I hadn’t even noticed? No, no, it was still on silent from when I’d switched it over at the clinic. But the thirteen missed calls from Reese were new. My finger hovered over the return call button, my heart longing to hear her voice. Instead, I hit the message icon and typed with uncoordinated fingers. I hit send before I could change my mind.
26
Reese
The door slammed behind Low’s back before I registered what was happening. I sprang out of my seat to follow him, but Doctor Sloane reached across the table and grabbed my arm.
“Let him have a minute, Reese. I’d like to speak to you alone anyway.”
“With me?” Why would she want to speak with me? The urge to run after Low pulled me towards the door. I tugged at her grip.
“Low might not be in a place to listen and learn about his condition just yet. He needs time to come to terms with it. But there are things he needs to know, things you both need to know.”
I glanced down as the doctor’s slim fingers released my wrist and breathed as I sank back into my seat. She was right. He wouldn’t be in any state of mind to listen right now. I could get the information and go through it with him later.
When I finally left the doctor’s office, armed with brochures, phone numbers, and another appointment for in a few weeks’ time, I was more confused and overwhelmed than ever. I moved through the empty hallway towards the waiting room, my footsteps echoing around me in the deserted space.
My pace increased as I neared the waiting room, expecting to see Low sitting there. But the room was empty except for the receptionist who tapped her fingers on the desk, looking annoyed. I peered around the bend of the hall to see if Low was on his way back from the bathroom or had gone in search of a water dispenser, but it was still empty. “Excuse me, the man I came in with? Low Smith? Did he come out this way?”
The receptionist shook her head, her large earrings swinging from side to side. “No, you two were the last appointment. I’ve been waiting for you to come out so I can close off for the night.”
“Oh,” I said quietly. “I’m sorry about that.”
Her annoyance softened into a more tolerant expression. “There’s another exit on the other side of the building. He must have left through that door if he isn’t with you.”
I nodded my agreement and thanked her. Maybe he was waiting for me at the car.
He wasn’t. I could see his car from the clinic entrance, and he wasn’t standing beside it or sitting on the hood. He wasn’t inside it because the keys still jangled in my handbag. I pulled them out, unlocked the doors, and slid into the driver’s seat. My hands rested on the steering wheel before my head followed a moment later. Breathing in and out as deeply as I could, I tried to fight off tears. I wouldn’t do this. I wouldn’t allow myself to cry right now.
Not knowing what else to do, I fumbled through my bag for my phone and rang Low’s number. I wasn’t surprised when it rang out, but I hit redial anyway. Again and again, I hit redial. Again and again, it went straight to his voice mail.
“Shit!” I threw my phone onto the passenger seat hard enough for it to bounce off and onto the floor. What was I supposed to do now? Wait here until he came back? Drive around looking for him?
The repetitive beeps of my message tone cut through the silence in the cab and I
dove across the gear-stick, scrambling to retrieve my phone from the floor mats.
I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry.
I stared at the text message for what felt like hours before I registered the words. And when I finally did, it was with a mixture of anger and determination. Goddammit, he wasn’t going to do this. No way was he breaking up with me, just because his tests were positive. I hit redial again.
It was dark around me and the parking lot was empty when I gave up dialling, slamming my hand onto the steering wheel in frustration. Where the fuck was he? And how the hell was I supposed to find him when he had all of Sydney to hide in?
I searched through the glove box, coming up triumphant with registration papers. His address was neatly printed in bold on the left-hand side.
It was a ten-minute drive to Low’s apartment, but it was ten minutes too long. It gave me too much time to stew on the last few hours and my confusing mess of emotions. Sadness coursed through me. The test hadn’t gone the way we’d been hoping, and that was bitterly disappointing, but somewhere within me there was also a sense of relief. This wasn’t the eighties; it wouldn’t kill him. Or me. Not that he believed that right now, obviously, but it was fact. This didn’t need to change anything between us. Not in the ways that mattered. I hadn’t been lying when I’d said I wanted him no matter what. If I could just find him, just see him for a few moments…
After I parked his car on the street outside his building, I ran up the stairs and banged my fist against his apartment door. His keys sat in the top of my handbag, and I debated just letting myself in. It didn’t feel right, though, invading his personal space like that when he’d never even invited me over before. Plus, what if he had an alarm?
I let my head drop back and roll across the back of my shoulders, trying to ease the tension in my neck while I waited for him to open the door. When he didn’t appear after a few moments, I thumped on the painted black wood again, this time pressing my ear to the door to listen for sounds of life. I couldn’t hear anything from the other side. No TV, no radio. No voices. Crouching down, I craned my head to the side so I could see the gap at the bottom of the door—no light spilled from underneath. I groaned. He wasn’t here.
He wouldn’t be at work now. The track would be closed for the night, and even if he was, I wouldn’t be able to get in there without a management-level swipe card. I paced the length of the hallway before pulling out my phone again. I hit dial on Jamison’s phone number and raked my fingers through my messy hair while I waited for him to pick up.
“Reese!” he yelled when he picked up the phone on what felt like the hundredth ring. I pulled the phone away from my ear. Distorted sounding music and a crowd of people nearly drowned him out. “Hang on! I’m just going somewhere quieter.”
I drummed my fingers on my leg, until the noise on his end quieted.
“Is that better?”
I didn’t bother answering. “Is Low with you?”
I could almost hear Jamison frowning. “No? Should he be?”
I shook my head, not that he could see. “No.”
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing, nothing, I just…I lost track of Low and he isn’t answering his phone. If he calls you, can you tell him to call me? It’s really important.”
“Yeah, of course. Is he okay, though?” The worry was clear in Jamison’s voice. “Are you okay?”
I sighed. “I don’t know the answer to either of those questions. Look, I’ve got to go. If he calls you, though, please, Jam, call me back.”
I could hear Jamison’s protests even as I hung up the phone.
I wracked my brain. I doubted Low would go to his grandparents’ place. He hadn’t wanted to tell them about the tests this afternoon, so I didn’t think he’d go straight there to spill his secrets. And if I called and he wasn’t there, I’d only worry them.
Damn it. If he wasn’t with his grandparents, at home, or with Jamison, he had to be at work. A light suddenly lit up in my brain and I could have smacked myself in the forehead for being so dense. I absolutely could get into work without a swipe card! I had my gap in the fence; the one I used to sneak in and see Mabel. I’d probably get stopped by security before I could even make it to the stables from the outer paddocks, but I had to try.
I ran down to the car and gunned the engine as soon as it kicked over. I swerved between other cars on the road, earning myself an angry honk from one driver, but it was only minutes later that I pulled up alongside the high fence of the racecourse. The sky was dark and overcast with clouds so thick that even the moon was barely visible. Floodlights spaced evenly around the perimeter of the property gave me enough light to see clearly, though, and for now, there wasn’t a security guard in sight.
I slipped between the gap, barely registering Mabel’s nickers of welcome as I sped past her paddock. I ran flat out for the stables, my lungs burning, knowing I was probably being watched on CCTV. I slid to a stop in front of the stable doors and yanked them hard.
The darkness was so complete inside the barn I had to stop and fish my phone out of my pocket. I flicked up the menu to turn the flashlight on, the beam of brightness cutting through the barn like a search light. I followed the pathways through the huge building, the scent of fresh hay and horse filling my nose, but every turn I made found only more darkness. I shined my light into every corner and peered over each stall door, but every time I just found myself staring into the eyes of confused horses.
“Hey! Stop!” a voice yelled from somewhere behind me, and I sighed. Busted. Low wasn’t here anyway, and now I was probably about to be arrested. Great. The horses moved restlessly in their stalls, one letting out a nervous whiny. I turned around slowly and raised my hands, though it was just security, not the cops.
“My name is Reese. I work here,” I called to them, not wanting to yell and scare the horses any more than they already were.
The two security guards wore matching Lavender field uniforms, walkie talkies sitting on their belts. The shorter of the two shined his flashlight directly into my face, making me squint.
“I’m just looking for Low Smith. That’s it.”
The guard lowered his flashlight, as the taller one leant in closer. I held my breath, as a sense of dread pooled in my stomach. This hadn’t been my smartest idea.
“I know you,” he declared, moving back a step. “You were there when the horse died on track.”
I nodded, recognising him as the guard who’d tried to stop Low and me from getting to Lijah’s side when she’d gone down.
“You can’t be here.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I was just leaving. Honest. I don’t want to cause any trouble.”
“We’ll escort you out.”
I thanked them and they followed me back to the gates near Mabel’s paddock.
“How did you even get in here?”
I gave the tall guard an embarrassed smile. “There’s a hole in the fence just down there a bit.” I paused. “Am I pushing the friendship if I ask you to just unlock the gates for me?”
He huffed but held his swipe key up to the little black box. It beeped, flashed green, then slowly the gate swung open. I breathed a sigh of relief that I’d avoided police custody for breaking and entering and strode over to Low’s Ute that sat waiting on the side of the road. The static of the guard’s walkie talkies crackled, and I heard the tall one report that there was a hole in the fence that needed fixing. I guessed I wouldn’t be making any early morning stops to Mabel’s paddock anymore. That sucked.
I turned the key in the ignition but sat there with the engine idling, trying to work out what to do next. When I still had no plan after several long minutes, I pulled out onto the road and began to drive aimlessly. It was better than sitting at home. He certainly wasn’t going to turn up there.
The headlights of other cars shone in my eyes and glinted off the raindrops that began falling on my windscreen. I peered through the windows anytime I saw people out o
n the streets, but none of them were ever Low.
I drove past the Marx Club, its sign lit up in neon and a short queue of people waiting to get in. I pulled over sharply. Jamison’s words that first night we’d all gone out together rang through my head. It’s our local. Meaning they went there regularly. It was a long shot, but at least it was a shot. And at least there was alcohol there. My stomach flipped at the thought of getting a drink.
I hadn’t deliberately cut back on drinking, but with my thoughts occupied by Low, I hadn’t needed the oblivion I used to find there. I’d lost myself in him and his problems instead. Probably not healthy, but neither was the way I’d been drinking and partying. I was surprised to realise I hadn’t missed it. Until now. But I had a mission. I’d get him and drag him home where we could hash this out. We’d work through his fears and mine. We’d work through it all. Together. He just had to be there first.
27
Reese
The pounding bass and bodies writhing on the dance floor didn’t give me any of the usual thrill I felt when I walked into a club. I nodded distractedly to Riley’s brother, Mark, when he waved to me from behind the bar, but my focus was on the booth we’d sat at the last time we were here. A group of women crowded around it. They all wore sashes over their dresses that declared them bridesmaids. They had a row of shots lined up in front of them, and their big smiles and glassy eyes told me this wasn’t their first round.
My gaze drifted to the spot where I’d danced, knowing Low was watching. It took nothing to remember how his gaze had burned through me, and I wished I could go back. But looking at things through rose-coloured glasses wasn’t going to get me anywhere, was it? Low and his misguided need to protect me from himself had always been a major barrier between us. But at least back then there’d been hope. Right now, I felt pretty hopeless.
