Karl led me up a narrow staircase, holding his arm out to steady me. My
sides were aching and my head stubbornly had begun to throb again.
After a few moments we stood in front of the front door of Karl's apartment. He fished around in his pocket and retrieved a key from his pocket. It had a neon green rabbit's foot key-chain dangling from it.
"Superstitious?" I asked, trying to bring a little humor to the awkward situation we were in.
"Naw," he said, fiddling the key around in the lock and pushing the door open. "Just a little something my girlfriend gave to me."
My eyebrow rose at the world 'girlfriend.' If he had a girlfriend, why was he picking up random girls and taking them up to his apartment?
"There's the sofa," he pointed. "I've never tried sleeping on it, so I don't know how comfy it'll be.but it's better than nothing."
"Thank you," I repeated. I sat down on the couch, and a jab of pain seared through my chest. I winced.
Karl saw the look on my face.
"If you want, I can take a look," he offered. "My mom's a doctor."
He didn't really seem the type to lie. But I still was suspicious. "Where's your mom now?" I asked, quizzically.
"She left when I was fifteen. She considered my dad and old bum, and instead of finishing up med school, she worked with him here.so I guess you can imagine what she ended up thinking of him."
"Yeah." my voice trailed off, as I studied his apartment. It reminded me a lot of Roger's. Messy, unorganized.
"Hey, I can understand you not being comfortable, especially after what just happened." He swallowed. "Or what I think was ABOUT to happen."
"It's alright." I assured him. Besides, hundreds of guys at the club had already seen me half-naked. And I WAS pretty banged up.
I sighed, and rolled up my sweater, so it was just above my ribs.
He studied my stomach carefully, pressing with his hands and telling me to tell him what hurt. When he pressed the area to the left of my belly button, where Kip had kicked me, I gasped in pain.
Karl took his hands away quickly. "I'm sorry," he apologized, nervously. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
'It's okay," I whispered. "It just hurts when I breathe."
"Well, from what I can tell, you don't have any broken ribs or anything like that, but by tomorrow you'll probably be sporting a few black and blue marks." He glanced at the gash on my cheek. "You want me to clean that up?"
I nodded. He got up to leave for the medicine cabinet.
"Can you bring a couple of Aspirin too?" I called after him, "My head's killing me."
"Sure," he called back.
I heard him rustling in the cabinet, and a few moments later he returned with some Peroxide, a bottle of Aspirin, and a glass of water.
"I'll do it," I said reaching for the bottle of Peroxide. Not knowing it was open, my hand bumped into it to roughly, and it fell on its side. The liquid began to drip on the wooden floor.
"Shit."
"It's fine," he said, grabbing a Kleenex and wiping the floor off. "Happens all the time." He flashed me a cheesy grin. I wondered if he was maybe a year younger than me.
He handed me the bottle of water, but I refused his offer, and just swallowed my pills dry. I did that with my AZT a lot too, though Roger always told me I shouldn't.
"So," he said after he'd cleaned the cut on my cheek. "How'd you end up here? You look like you're sixteen."
"I get that all the time," I said, agitated. "I'm twenty."
"Really?" He looked surprised.
I gave him a long, tired stare, and he held up his hands. "Sorry," he said, with a small smile on his face. "Wanna tell me your story?"
"Well, first of all." I began, cringing slightly. I always hated this part of the introduction. "I'm H.I.V positive." Karl didn't even blink when I said that. I was surprised.
"I live with my boyfriend Roger on the corner of Avenue A and B. We got into a fight, and he ran off, and then I just left the loft. I needed to have some time to myself for a while."
Karl sat with his fingers clasped together in his lap. He looked intrigued.
"On the way I ran into yours truly downstairs." I motioned to the bruise on my face, "And my boss, Terry. He asked me if I was going to work that night, and I was sort of out of it.so I told him yes. So he drove me to work."
"Where you do you work?" he inquired.
I lifted my head up from the couch I'd just made my new home on. I felt like he was a therapist and I was telling him my life story.which I was.
"I'm a dancer at the Cat Scratch Club," I said, simply. "Terry found me when I was fifteen, and had no money and no place to live. He offered me a job."
He nodded slowly, motioning for me to go on.
"So.last night, I didn't feel too hot, so I left the club early." I didn't feel like explaining to him about me being sick. ".And I didn't want to go back to the loft, so I slept on a bench in the park. Then I came in to your restaurant, then I ran into my old friend down there.and well, here I am today." I through out my hands.
He smiled. "Well, your life's a lot more interesting than mine. My life basically began when I was fifteen, after my mom left, and I was stuck working here. I didn't go to college and so." he copied the motion I'd done with my hands. "Here I am today."
I laughed. It made my sides hurt, but it felt good to laugh again.
"So, who's your girlfriend?" I asked, curiously.
"Sharon? Well, sometimes I consider her my girlfriend.during the times she's not bitching to me about getting a REAL job.which isn't that often. Last week she said we should 'See other people.'"
I sat silently after he'd finished, not knowing what to say. Karl broke the silence.
"So," he said, "You want me to run downstairs and grab you something to eat? My dad won't mind, I rarely take my work time off."
"Okay." I said slowly. "But first, can I take a shower?"
Karl let me borrow one of his robes, so I slipped that on once I'd stepped out of the shower, and wrapped another towel around my head. I dried myself off and put my clothes back on, and walked back into the living room.
Karl had been waiting for me, reading a copy of 'The New Yorker."
"I'll go grab something for you to eat," he said, pushing the magazine aside. "Alright?"
"Yes," I said, and he started towards the door.
"Karl?"
He stopped.
"Thank you.for helping me, I mean."
Karl smiled. "Ain't nothing to it." And with that he slipped out the door.
Once he was gone I sighed, and plopped down on the couch. It hadn't occurred to me how tired I was from the events of the day. I unraveled the quilt at one end of the couch, curled up into a ball, and threw the blanket over myself. By the time Karl came back with the food, I was fast asleep.
After a few moments we stood in front of the front door of Karl's apartment. He fished around in his pocket and retrieved a key from his pocket. It had a neon green rabbit's foot key-chain dangling from it.
"Superstitious?" I asked, trying to bring a little humor to the awkward situation we were in.
"Naw," he said, fiddling the key around in the lock and pushing the door open. "Just a little something my girlfriend gave to me."
My eyebrow rose at the world 'girlfriend.' If he had a girlfriend, why was he picking up random girls and taking them up to his apartment?
"There's the sofa," he pointed. "I've never tried sleeping on it, so I don't know how comfy it'll be.but it's better than nothing."
"Thank you," I repeated. I sat down on the couch, and a jab of pain seared through my chest. I winced.
Karl saw the look on my face.
"If you want, I can take a look," he offered. "My mom's a doctor."
He didn't really seem the type to lie. But I still was suspicious. "Where's your mom now?" I asked, quizzically.
"She left when I was fifteen. She considered my dad and old bum, and instead of finishing up med school, she worked with him here.so I guess you can imagine what she ended up thinking of him."
"Yeah." my voice trailed off, as I studied his apartment. It reminded me a lot of Roger's. Messy, unorganized.
"Hey, I can understand you not being comfortable, especially after what just happened." He swallowed. "Or what I think was ABOUT to happen."
"It's alright." I assured him. Besides, hundreds of guys at the club had already seen me half-naked. And I WAS pretty banged up.
I sighed, and rolled up my sweater, so it was just above my ribs.
He studied my stomach carefully, pressing with his hands and telling me to tell him what hurt. When he pressed the area to the left of my belly button, where Kip had kicked me, I gasped in pain.
Karl took his hands away quickly. "I'm sorry," he apologized, nervously. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
'It's okay," I whispered. "It just hurts when I breathe."
"Well, from what I can tell, you don't have any broken ribs or anything like that, but by tomorrow you'll probably be sporting a few black and blue marks." He glanced at the gash on my cheek. "You want me to clean that up?"
I nodded. He got up to leave for the medicine cabinet.
"Can you bring a couple of Aspirin too?" I called after him, "My head's killing me."
"Sure," he called back.
I heard him rustling in the cabinet, and a few moments later he returned with some Peroxide, a bottle of Aspirin, and a glass of water.
"I'll do it," I said reaching for the bottle of Peroxide. Not knowing it was open, my hand bumped into it to roughly, and it fell on its side. The liquid began to drip on the wooden floor.
"Shit."
"It's fine," he said, grabbing a Kleenex and wiping the floor off. "Happens all the time." He flashed me a cheesy grin. I wondered if he was maybe a year younger than me.
He handed me the bottle of water, but I refused his offer, and just swallowed my pills dry. I did that with my AZT a lot too, though Roger always told me I shouldn't.
"So," he said after he'd cleaned the cut on my cheek. "How'd you end up here? You look like you're sixteen."
"I get that all the time," I said, agitated. "I'm twenty."
"Really?" He looked surprised.
I gave him a long, tired stare, and he held up his hands. "Sorry," he said, with a small smile on his face. "Wanna tell me your story?"
"Well, first of all." I began, cringing slightly. I always hated this part of the introduction. "I'm H.I.V positive." Karl didn't even blink when I said that. I was surprised.
"I live with my boyfriend Roger on the corner of Avenue A and B. We got into a fight, and he ran off, and then I just left the loft. I needed to have some time to myself for a while."
Karl sat with his fingers clasped together in his lap. He looked intrigued.
"On the way I ran into yours truly downstairs." I motioned to the bruise on my face, "And my boss, Terry. He asked me if I was going to work that night, and I was sort of out of it.so I told him yes. So he drove me to work."
"Where you do you work?" he inquired.
I lifted my head up from the couch I'd just made my new home on. I felt like he was a therapist and I was telling him my life story.which I was.
"I'm a dancer at the Cat Scratch Club," I said, simply. "Terry found me when I was fifteen, and had no money and no place to live. He offered me a job."
He nodded slowly, motioning for me to go on.
"So.last night, I didn't feel too hot, so I left the club early." I didn't feel like explaining to him about me being sick. ".And I didn't want to go back to the loft, so I slept on a bench in the park. Then I came in to your restaurant, then I ran into my old friend down there.and well, here I am today." I through out my hands.
He smiled. "Well, your life's a lot more interesting than mine. My life basically began when I was fifteen, after my mom left, and I was stuck working here. I didn't go to college and so." he copied the motion I'd done with my hands. "Here I am today."
I laughed. It made my sides hurt, but it felt good to laugh again.
"So, who's your girlfriend?" I asked, curiously.
"Sharon? Well, sometimes I consider her my girlfriend.during the times she's not bitching to me about getting a REAL job.which isn't that often. Last week she said we should 'See other people.'"
I sat silently after he'd finished, not knowing what to say. Karl broke the silence.
"So," he said, "You want me to run downstairs and grab you something to eat? My dad won't mind, I rarely take my work time off."
"Okay." I said slowly. "But first, can I take a shower?"
Karl let me borrow one of his robes, so I slipped that on once I'd stepped out of the shower, and wrapped another towel around my head. I dried myself off and put my clothes back on, and walked back into the living room.
Karl had been waiting for me, reading a copy of 'The New Yorker."
"I'll go grab something for you to eat," he said, pushing the magazine aside. "Alright?"
"Yes," I said, and he started towards the door.
"Karl?"
He stopped.
"Thank you.for helping me, I mean."
Karl smiled. "Ain't nothing to it." And with that he slipped out the door.
Once he was gone I sighed, and plopped down on the couch. It hadn't occurred to me how tired I was from the events of the day. I unraveled the quilt at one end of the couch, curled up into a ball, and threw the blanket over myself. By the time Karl came back with the food, I was fast asleep.
