Chapter One - Maureen
Maureen stormed out of the club, muttering obscenities under her breath. She angrily flicked a wayward strand of hair out of her face, temporarily obscuring her vision. So she didn't notice the guy walking towards her until she bumped into him.
"Watch where you're going, would you," she snarled, and the guy stepped back, hands raised.
"Sorry," he said, then took in her agitated state and the angry tears in her eyes. "Hey, what's wrong?" Maureen rolled her eyes and glanced back towards the club just as Joanne emerged, clearly looking for her girlfriend. The lawyer's eyes met Maureen's, and Maureen turned away. Feeling suddenly spiteful, she linked her arm through the guy's and led him away.
"I'm Maureen. You wanna get a drink?"
Hardly able to believe his luck, the guy nodded.
"I'm Aaron. Who was that girl?"
Maureen just shrugged, rolling her eyes, and the pair disappeared into a pub.
The first grimy rays of sunlight hit Maureen's face through the window of a cheap motel room. She stirred, then grunted in annoyance at being woken. The mattress springs creaked as she sat up, and the guy next to her mumbled something in his sleep. Last night rushed back to her, and Maureen swore, then leaned over and threw up on the floor.
"What was in that goddamn drink?" she muttered. The guy – Aaron, that was his name – shifted, and Maureen quickly scooped up her clothes, dressed and was about to get the hell out when she saw a horribly familiar bottle of pills on the floor.
Maureen, she thought, you are the biggest goddamn idiot in America. Still hoping desperately that she was wrong about the contents of the pill bottle, she crouched down to check. Azidothymidine, the bottle said. AZT.
Wishing she could remember any details of what had happened last night, Maureen searched for a condom, a wrapper, anything that would tell her she hadn't…
The thought made her stomach heave again, and she added to the mess on the floor before she left, wishing she hadn't fought with Joanne.
Maureen practically ran out the door of the motel, just wanting to get away from what she'd done. She got halfway down the street before she realised that she had no idea where she was. Almost crying now, Maureen fumbled with her cellphone, finding Joanne's number. She stopped, thinking Joanne was probably still mad, and definitely wouldn't want to come and rescue her from a situation that was entirely her own fault.
Maureen wandered further down the street, looking for some clue as to where she was. Her eye was caught by a huge pink heart in a shop window, wishing the almost empty street a happy Valentines' Day. Maureen couldn't help laughing. Valentines' Day. And here she was, lost in some backstreet God knows where, still feeling sick – the after-effects of whatever the hell Aaron had given her to drink – and unable to call her girlfriend. If Joanne was still her girlfriend after last night. If Joanne ever wanted to see her again.
Oh yeah, she thought bitterly. And you've probably got AIDS.
Her cellphone battery chose that moment to die completely, and she threw the useless thing on the ground.
Totally alone, Maureen slumped onto the pavement next to her now dented cellphone, leaned against the window with the stupid pink heart, and started to cry.