by Coe Booth
Finally, there’s a break in the conversation and I’m about to get up when she says, “You’re not going to school tomorrow. I’m taking you to the women’s clinic near City College.”
I can feel the shock in my chest first. “Women’s clinic? What for?”
“It’s time for you to see a gynecologist.” She says it in a kinda singing way, like she’s talking to a child. “You need to get a checkup to make sure you don’t have any STDs, and then you and the doctor can decide on a form of birth control. Being sexually active requires a lot of responsibility, doesn’t it?”
“You should know,” I say, half under my breath but loud enough for her to hear.
“Exactly,” she says. And for a few seconds, we both stare at each other.
“What if I don’t wanna go?” I say. “I don’t even need to go. I never had sex, not like that. Not like the way you can get pregnant.” Suddenly, I’m so embarrassed talking about this. “I don’t wanna go to a gynecologist. I’m still just, like, a kid.”
Renée leans close to me and says, “You are a kid. But your body, inside, is a woman. Trust me, I know. That body is capable of producing a baby. Is that what you want?”
I shake my head.
“Then you have to be smart, smarter than I was, and protect yourself.”
I don’t say anything.
Renée gets up from her chair and grabs her bag from off the counter. “C’mon, Babe. Let’s get to the supermarket before they close.”
THIRTY-THREE
In the morning I spend, like, fifteen minutes going through my clothes in the suitcase, because how am I supposed to know what to wear to a gynecologist? I can’t even believe Renée is making me go, and it’s like she don’t even care how scared I am. I mean, it’s not even fair. I’m a virgin and she’s making me go to the women’s clinic, anyway. It’s so embarrassing and it’s not even something I need to do. I mean, it’s not like me and Nashawn are ever gonna do anything again.
But Renée’s not even listening when I start complaining. She gets that from Nana. When her mind is made up, that’s it.
I put on a pair of jeans and a cute little blue top, one of the shirts Adonna made me buy when we went shopping together. It looks good on me, but it reminds me of Adonna and that just gets me thinking about her and wondering what she’s gonna say about me in school today, and if she’s gonna go up to Nashawn and ask him about me and him. Is she gonna tell the whole school that I tried to steal her man or something?
The one thing I do know is, no matter what she says about me, no way is she gonna blame Nashawn for any of it. That’s the way she is. Her boyfriend from last year used to disrespect her all the time, but she just took it. And she would still be with him now if he hadn’t dumped her first. Knowing Adonna, she’s gonna tell herself that no matter what happened between me and Nashawn, it all happened before their first date so it’s not like he cheated on her or anything.
The only good thing about going to the gynecologist is that I don’t have to be in school today to see the two of them together again. I know Adonna will be all over him, too, trying to make me feel jealous because she got him and I didn’t. That he’s her man and all that.
“C’mon,” Renée says, already at the door. “It’s first come, first serve at that clinic.”
“I’m okay with waiting,” I say, but Renée only laughs. And I know she’s laughing at me.
When we get there, there are only a couple of people ahead of me, and both of them are much older, like in their twenties. I’m the only teenager. Me and Renée go up to the receptionist, and when she asks Renée about my insurance, Renée gets a look I’ve never seen on her face before, like she has no idea about something. “I’m not exactly sure,” she says to the receptionist, and then she turns to me and asks me if I know.
I shrug and the receptionist says to Renée, “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were her mother.”
Renée says, “I am,” at the exact same time I say, “She is.” And the woman just shakes her head like she don’t understand why Renée wouldn’t know something like that.
Then Renée pulls out her cell phone and gets all the information she needs from Nana, and I can tell she’s embarrassed because she really should know all this stuff.
While we wait, Renée flips through an Essence magazine and I sit there bored, wishing I had brought my book with me, because they don’t have any magazines I wanna read here. I’m starting to get real nervous and I wish Renée would talk to me or something to take my mind off this whole thing, but I can tell she’s not happy to be here, either. So I get up and grab a little pamphlet called “Your First Gynecological Examination: What to Expect” from the rack and start reading it. But, really, it’s not helping at all to make me feel better about this.
About an hour later when they call my name, I find out Renée’s not even coming in with me. “You’re a big girl,” she tells me. “I’ll be here when you’re done.” And she goes back to reading her magazine.
I have no choice but to follow the receptionist down the hall to an office that has DR. MATHYS on the door. And that’s when I see the doctor sitting there. And he’s a man. A man. Dr. Mathys is a black guy that’s not even all that old and he’s a gynecologist. It’s weird.
I stand there in the doorway hoping and praying that I’m in the wrong room or he’s in the wrong room. But I’m not that lucky. Before I can turn around and run away, the doctor looks up from his paperwork and says, “Kendra Williamson?”
I nod, trapped. There’s no way outta this. I step into the room real slow and he asks me to sit down in the chair next to his desk. Then, after I sit down, he starts talking and I know he’s trying to relax me, but it’s not working at all. I’m answering his questions about what grade I’m in and what classes I like, but all I’m thinking is, I really really don’t want this man seeing me down there.
There’s an examination room right next door to the office, and I’m eyeing the table and the equipment and my heart is pounding.
“How did you get those scratches and bruises on your face and neck?” Dr. Mathys asks me, looking at me like he’s ready to file a report to the Child Abuse Hotline or something.
So I say the first lie that comes to my mind. “I got into a fight with a girl.”
He nods at me. “Over a boy, I’m guessing.”
“Something like that,” I say. And I think about Adonna even though we didn’t actually fight fight over Nashawn, but still. I look down at the floor, thinking how stupid I was because our whole argument didn’t even have to happen if I would have just kept my mouth closed instead of telling her. Now that I think about it, I can’t even figure out why I did that. Because if I hadn’t told her, I could have just gone back to school today and acted like nothing ever happened. But now the whole school probably knows and they probably all think I’m the kinda person that would go behind her best friend’s back and try to steal her boyfriend, when it wasn’t even like that. The whole thing is a mess.
A female nurse comes into the room, and that’s when the doctor starts asking me questions about my so-called sexual history. Like it’s so long. I don’t look at him, but I tell him about me and Nashawn and what we did, and it’s one of the most embarrassing things I ever had to do, tell this man all my personal business. When I finally look up at him, he don’t look all that surprised or anything. He probably heard it all by now.
“When was your last period?” he asks.
I shrug. “I don’t know.” Nana keeps track of it for me on the calendar in her bedroom. Then when it’s about time for it, she asks me if I need money for pads. The funny thing is, sitting here now is the first time I get it. She wasn’t doing that to help me. She just wanted to make sure I wasn’t pregnant.
“I want you to take a pregnancy test,” Dr. Mathys says, even though I already told him I never had real sex with Nashawn. It’s like he’s not even paying me any mind. But I don’t argue with him. What’s the point?
Of course
, the test comes out negative, but I could have told him that myself. Then we go in the room for the examination, and it’s just as bad as I knew it was gonna be. The nurse stays in the room the whole time, so I don’t have to be alone with this guy, but still.
When it’s finally done and I’m dressed again, I go back into the office with him. Right away he starts talking about birth control.
“I don’t need it,” I tell him. “I don’t have a boyfriend or anything, and I’m not gonna do anything with anybody anymore.”
But he don’t listen to me. Again. He starts telling me about different kinds of birth control, and how I have to protect myself from diseases and stuff even if I’m on birth control. When he asks me if I have any questions, of course I don’t, and when he tells me that he thinks the pill is the easiest and the one most girls my age like, I say okay and he gives me a prescription and a whole little bag full of condoms. All I want is to get outta there already.
Renée is no better when it comes to listening to me, because as soon as we get outta the clinic, she heads straight for the drugstore so we can fill the prescription.
“But I don’t want it,” I say, walking next to her down the street. “I don’t need it.”
“I don’t have time to argue with you, Babe,” she tells me. “I want to have this prescription filled and get you back home so I can get to City and try to get a little work done today.”
“It’s the summer,” I say.
“I know, but I’m going to teach a class that begins in July. And I have to get my syllabus together.”
A few minutes later, me and Renée are sitting in a Dunkin’ Donuts down the street, killing time ’til the prescription is ready. This whole day has got me feeling mad. Not only for having to go through that whole examination, but also for not being listened to. I can’t believe Renée wants me to take the pill for no reason.
So when she gets her coffee and I get my smoothie and donut, I try again. “I know you think you know everything about me,” I say, “but I’m trying to tell you that I never had sex and I’m never gonna do anything like that.”
Renée opens a pack of sugar and pours it in her coffee. “I don’t think I know everything about you. But I was your age not that long ago, and nobody was going to stop me from being with Kenny, not even Nana and her threats. I know what it’s like, and it’s hard to stop having sex once you get started.”
She’s still not listening.
“And I studied teenage sexuality in school and I know all the statistics. You have to protect yourself from diseases. And it’s better to be safe now than sorry nine months later. Believe me, Babe. I know what I’m talking about.”
Renée’s cell phone rings and even though we’re in the middle of a conversation, she pulls it outta her bag and starts talking. And I just sit there waiting for her to get off, but I can tell it’s gonna be awhile because it sounds like she’s talking to someone from City College about some kinda project. She’s talking all professional and everything.
I stir my smoothie with the straw, too angry to eat or drink anymore. I hate the way she said that, about how sorry she was nine months later, when I was born. I mean, I’m not stupid. I know she never really planned to have me. Nobody plans to have a baby at fourteen. But I never thought having me was such a big huge mistake, and that the day I was born, all she felt was sorry. I mean, how’s that supposed to make me feel?
As she talks on the phone, I look over at her, wondering if she could do it all over again, would she even have me? Would I even exist? It’s a crazy thought, but I wanna know the answer, even though I’m scared to hear the truth.
So when Renée flips her phone closed a few minutes later, I don’t even think about it, because I don’t wanna talk myself outta anything. I look her right in the eye and I ask her, “If you were fourteen again, and you just found out you were pregnant, would you do the same thing you did before? Would I even be here now?”
I can tell Renée is kinda surprised by my questions, because she was just about to take a sip of her coffee and she freezes for a few seconds. Then she puts her cup down and says, “No, you probably wouldn’t be here.”
It’s hard to describe the way those words feel inside my body. It’s like a fast, hot, stabbing pain in my heart. That’s how much it hurts.
Renée leans closer to me and whispers, “I’m sorry, Babe. I am. But when I was fourteen, I thought my whole life would be with Kenny. I was in love with him and it felt so real, you know?”
I nod, but it’s hard to see through all my tears.
“When I took that test and found out I was pregnant, I was so scared, but I felt like I was going to be with Kenny forever, anyway, so what difference did it make if we had a baby so young?” She shakes her head like she can’t believe how stupid she was. “But Kenny and I didn’t even last a year after you were born. We were two kids. And look at him now. There’s no way I could have stayed with him. He’s in the exact same place I left him—and that never would have worked for me. Never.”
“So I was just a big mistake, then.” It’s half question, half statement.
But Renée don’t even say anything, because we both know it’s true.
I take a deep breath. Then I ask her what I been wanting to ask her for a while. “Why don’t you want me? I’m talking about now. Why? I been waiting for you my whole life and you stayed away for as long as you could. And then when you’re finally finished with school and you’re back here and you’re grown up and you have a job and everything, you still don’t want me. You never even thought about wanting me.” I’m crying hard now and hoping nobody else in the Dunkin’ Donuts is noticing, because I really can’t control it. I feel like I’m falling apart.
Renée looks at me like she feels sorry for me, but I can tell she don’t know what to say. Like there’s nothing she can say.
But there’s still more I wanna say to her. “How do you think that makes me feel?” I ask, my hand on my heart now. “My own mother, you’re supposed to want me no matter what. But for you, everything and everybody else is more important than me. Well, I need somebody, too. And when I tell you that I’m trying to change, you don’t even believe me. I mean, that doctor don’t know me, but you, you’re supposed to be on my side. You’re supposed to get me. And you don’t. You don’t know me at all.” It feels like there’s a waterfall inside of me, and nothing can stop it. Not for a while, anyway.
Renée still don’t know what to say to me. And for a while, me and her just sit there quiet, with nothing but the sounds of the people ordering donuts and talking at the tables around us.
But after a long time, she puts her hand on top of mine and says, “C’mon, Babe. Let’s go back to the drugstore.” I sigh, but then she says real fast, “Let’s go back so we can cancel that prescription, okay?”
And I nod through my tears. “Okay.”
THIRTY-FOUR
I knew there wasn’t any way to get outta it, but still, on Tuesday as I walk up the steps to school, I really wish I could have stayed home one more day. At least. Yesterday was so long and draining that I could use another day just to sit and think and try to deal with everything that’s happened. But it’s the week before Regents exams and finals, and I know all the teachers are gonna be reviewing, and I need that. Because there’s a ton of stuff I barely learned the first time around, and now that I’m with Renée, I can just see her face if I bring home a bad report card.
Plus I need to put my mind on something else besides myself and how I messed everything up. Even thinking about schoolwork is better than that.
When I get into the building, I head straight for the staircase. I’m here extra early, which wasn’t easy coming all the way from Harlem, but it’s worth it if I can avoid as many people as possible, especially Adonna, Nashawn, and Darnell.
The hall on the second floor is pretty empty, and the few kids that are up there aren’t anybody I know, so I’m able to get to my locker and get all my stuff without running into anyb
ody. Then I walk down the hall, and when I pass the teachers’ lounge, I feel this weird tingling feeling in my stomach and I can’t tell if it’s a good feeling or not. It makes me think of Nashawn and that first time and how hot and confusing it was. I walk faster, turn the corner, and see Brunilda at her locker, putting her long hair back in a ponytail. She’s at school early, too, another girl that wants to get to homeroom before the halls get packed with other kids.
As I walk by her, she looks up at me, and I smile but don’t say anything. I mean, I don’t really know her that good even though we got English and bio together. She missed a couple of days after the so-called fight, and since then, she been more quiet than usual. And she’s not dressing like she’s all that anymore. She’s blending in with everyone else better.
And at this school, you do a whole lot better when you don’t stand out that much.
I turn the next corner by my homeroom, and just as I’m about to reach the classroom, I see Darnell coming down the hall, carrying a big poster board with some kinda math formulas on it. He’s heading in my direction, right toward me.
I try to read his face, but it’s too hard to look at him after what I did. I mean, I know I hurt him and I know he probably hates me, but at the same time, it’s not really his place to judge me and it’s too early in the morning to be judged, anyway.
So I try to ignore him, but just as I’m about to turn the doorknob, Darnell steps in front of me and says in a real quiet voice, “You’re at school early.”
“You, too,” I say. “The showcase is over, you know.”
“I know,” he says. He stops talking and looks down at the floor for a while.
And, man, it’s not easy seeing him like this, because it looks like he been kicked or something. Like the wind is knocked outta him.
