I'm Positive

Chapter 4

PG-13

I doesn't own this stuffs!

"Don't you have your own place to live?" Roger asked, irritated.

"Of course I do, but your place is funner," Sara replied. "You be quiet, Roger. You know you love me." He grunted in response, because he knew it was true. She was funny and cute and made Mark sickeningly happy. Anyone that did that was good enough for Roger, since Mark was so rarely genuinely happy. "Besides, Mimi practically lives here, too."

"Yeah, well, that's different." Sara smiled at him.

"What about me?" Mimi asked as she walked into the room, weaving her fingers in Roger's.

"Nothing," he replied sullenly, hating the fact that Sara was always right.

"Oh, I got those beads you wanted," Mimi said to Sara tossing a box to her.

"Thank you! I've been wanting these for days!" she said, whipping out a notebook and paper, and began furiously scribbling. Mimi and Roger looked at each other, confused, wondering why in the world those beads would instill such sudden inspiration in Sara's brain. Mimi shrugged.

"We just don't think like her," she decided. "Come, we'll go the park or something," she said to Roger. Sara continued her rapid writing and frequent crossings-out until she was interrupted by two hands snaking around her waist and two lips planting kisses on her neck. She shivered and smiled.

"Oooh, you devil. I hate it when you do that to me."

"Liar," Mark murmured, and continued his trail down to her collarbone. Sara turned his head and kissed his lips. She returned to her paper and tapped the pen against the notebook impatiently, then throwing her pen at Mark.

"Ow!" he cried, rubbing his arm where it had struck. "What was that for?" Sara giggled.

"You ruined my train of thought." Mark scowled, but laughed at her innocent look. "Why don't you help me?" she asked. "I'm making decorations for the loft," she said, shaking the box of beads.

"I guess," he said. "Don't you dare make it all girly. I still have my dignity." Sara snorted and threaded a needle. "Where were you yesterday?" he asked, sitting down next to her.

"I went to the Kink Club with Maureen and Joanne," she replied matter-of-factly.

"No, really. Where were you?"

"I was with them! I really like those two. They remind me of me." Mark shook his head.

"You had better not go lesbian on me." Sara laughed.

"I won't," she promised. After a minute, she suddenly reached in her pocket and popped a pill.

"Got a headache?" Mark asked.

"No. Its my AZT." Mark froze.

"Your what?"

"My AZT."

"You have AIDS?"

"Yeah," she replied slowly, looking quizzically at him. Mark shook his head.

"Wait. You have AIDS."

"Yes, Mark. Acquired-immune-deficiency-syndrome. Just like you," she said, bending back over her work.

"No, I don't," he said quietly. Sara looked up quickly.

"What?"

"I don't have AIDS, Sara. At least, I didn't," he said in an accusatory tone.

"But – but you were at Life Support," she said desperately.

"Life Support's a group of people coping with life! Its not just for people with AIDS!" he cried, knocking the box of beads over with his hand. Sara jumped.

"But – I – I – you – I thought you did!" she said, searching his face. A look of rage suddenly passed over hers. "Well, join the club, buddy!" Mark was taken aback by her sudden change in emotion. "You aren't the first person to receive a death sentence!"

"Well, I didn't think I would get it from the woman I loved!" he shouted back. "Why don't you go infect someone else now?" Sara's eyes narrowed.

"So that's it? You're going to leave me to die alone?" Mark wordlessly pointed to the door. She grabbed her notebook. "Roger has Mimi. Angel had Collins. Are you going to make us be the only people to die with or for?" Mark crossed his arms stubbornly, looking away. Sara spat on the ground at his feet. "I hope you did tomorrow!" she cried, her words quivering. She stalked out the door, sliding it shut as loudly as she could. Mark heard her sobs, but tried to ignore them by staring out the window. Roger and Mimi came in the house shortly afterward.

"Hey, what's wrong with Sara?" Mark grabbed his goat and stormed toward the door shouting:

"She's killed me, that's what's wrong!"

X

a/n: sigh. I don't know. That was sad to write. Now I'm all bummed out.