"Rook at the ROVELY rice," Mark said in a sing-song voice.
Maureen tapped him on the arm and shook her head.
"Sorry," he said sheepishly, as rice dribbled from his chopsticks and onto his lap.
Mimi poked at an egg roll, turning it over with her chopsticks, and examining it. None of the food on her plate entered her mouth.
Joanne and Collins ate silently, wondering whether they should break the silence or not.
"I'll get the plates," Joanne finally piped up. She picked up all the plastic plates in one hand, and went into the kitchen to toss them. When she returned, it was still silent.
"So," Collins said, rattling a fortune cookie in his hand, still in the wrapper. "Fortune, anyone?"
***
Roger sat down on the couch, and flipped to the first page of April's diary, both scared and anxious at the same time.
"January 2nd, 1995," the first entry read;
"Today Roger and the gang threw a surprise party for me. I WAS surprised, only because I didn't think that Roger, let alone everyone else would remember. Mark, Maureen, Collins and Benny got everything set up, while Roger took me to lunch. It was cowboy-themed- Plastic cowboy hats, toy guns, fake badges. Pretty sad, but it's the thought that counts. Collins and Benny were having a little TOO MUCH fun with those pistols. Roger had to confiscate them because we could hear them 'Ka-POW-ing' from the hallway, and Roger and Mark's neighbors were starting to get pretty pissy. God, I love him so much. Only Roger would come up with the lamest birthday party in history. Love you, Babe!"
Roger smiled as he remembered that day. It WAS pretty pathetic. But April had loved it. He skipped past a few pages, randomly stopping to read another entry;
"April 24th, 1995. Today, me and Roger had the day all to ourselves. Mark and Maureen went to some spa for the weekend, (her idea, not his) and Collins has been busy down at NYU. I understand, I know how those kids are. I mean, I used to BE one of them."
Roger chuckled, and read on.
"Tonight we just lay in bed together. We didn't have sex- we just talked. Big surprise, right? We talked about EVERYTHING. I've only known the guy for about 3 months, but I still feel like I've known him all my life, you know? He's like that. Tomorrow we're going to go to Central Park for the day. Roger's ideal date: being showered in bird crap, while sitting on a fading statue of Alice from Alice in Wonderland. Such a romantic, my Pooh- Bear is."
Roger set down the book for a moment, and sighed. God, he'd loved her. He still missed her like hell sometimes, when he was lying in bed. Those were usually the nights when Mimi worked late.
He picked up the book, settling it in his lap again. He flipped forward to October.
"I'm starting to get really scared. Every day, I feel worse. I still haven't told Roger yet, I mean- how do you tell the person you love the most that he's going to die? I took Mark's advice, and decided to attend one of those Life Support meetings."
Roger's face turned red with anger. Mark had known that Roger had had AIDS before he knew himself! Furiously, he turned the page, almost ripping it out of the book.
"Well, I just got back from the meeting. It wasn't too bad, to tell you the truth. The leader, Paul, was a pretty cool guy. I know this sounds stupid, but he sort of helped me come to terms with this thing, you know? Anyway, I also became pretty friendly with this girl who was sitting next to me. She introduced herself as Mimi. She's small, and has curly hair. She looks like she's got some sort of Latin heritage."
Panamanian, Roger corrected her in his mind.
"She told me that she found out she was sick only a about a month ago. She works down at The Cat Scratch Club. She's a dances. She's pretty cool and down-to-earth, though. She made me feel a little bit better about everything that'd happened. She said it was best I tell Roger as soon as possible, so we could deal with it together. She's right. Sooner or later, I'll have to tell him."
Roger sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. Why couldn't you have told me in person, April?, he thought, miserably. He gripped the little book tightly in his hands, and continued to read.
***
Maureen's Patti Smith clock that was hung up on the wall read six thirty, but Mimi was already snuggled up on the end of the couch, asleep. Maureen had placed an old, but warm, quilt over her, and was talking quietly with Mark.
"You think those two will make up?" she asked nervously, gazing upon her sleeping friend.
"I hope- well, I don't hope, I KNOW they will. You know how those two are, they love each other to death. Me, on the other hand- I doubt Roger will ever speak to me again."
"Honey, just be glad that I'M still speaking to you," Maureen said, haughtily. "You really have some nerve, Mark.
"I know," Mark said slowly, "I left April's diary outside Roger's door."
"Wow," Maureen said, shaking her head, "You REALLY have some nerve."
***
"What the fuck is Roger's problem? He's NEVER here anymore. He's always out playing with those damn Hungarians. I hardly ever see him anymore. Me and Mark are always kept waiting 'til one in the morning on the couch, and when he DOES come home, he barely even glances at me, just collapses on the bed without saying anything to either of us."
Roger bit his lip, and flipped through the next few pages.
"I feel horrible- and it's not just because I'm sick. Me and I had a couple of drinks tonight while we were waiting up for Roger. We ended up making out. I was drunk, but still, I'd never thought of Mark in a romantic way. It's like he's always there, but sometimes we just sort of use him as the welcome mat to wipe our feet on. I never noticed that until tonight. God knows where Roger is. It's four in the morning, and he's STILL not here. If he ever comes back, he'll probably be stoned. I swear, he loves that damn fender more than me."
"Each day I feel worse. It's like I just don't give a shit about anything anymore. I only leave the house to go to the meetings, and I just pull on a pair of sweatpants and one of Roger's old T-shirts. I don't remember when I last took a shower. I still haven't told Roger. It's eating away at me. I feel like if I don't tell him soon, I'll die faster of guilt than I will of the disease. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad."
A tear dropped onto the page, smudging some of the letters. Roger hadn't realized he's been crying. Embarrassed, although no one else was in the room, he wiped his eyes with his sleeve.
"December 17th, 1995. I can't do it. I can't tell Roger. Not in person, at least. I love him. But I can't take it anymore. I went to my last meeting today. I told Mimi to take care of herself. She looked confused, but just smiled and waved after me. Poor kid. I hope everything turns out okay for her. At least one of us has a chance of surviving this."
Roger turned to the last page of the diary- oh GOD, it was a copy of April's suicide note. He'd read the one that she'd left in the bathroom probably about a hundred times. It was probably engraved in small red letters along his brain now. But still, his eyes lingered over the words.
Dear Roger, I know that I've been a big burden on your life lately. There's a side of me that you don't know. There's something I should have told you. I should have a long time ago. Roger, we've got AIDS. I can't live with myself anymore, knowing that because of me, you're going to die. I don't want to you to have anymore baggage than you've already got. Smile, babe- it's the start of your new life. -April
He had noted when he'd first read the note, that it hadn't even said 'Love, April.' Just 'April.' That had hurt a lot.
He closed the book, and put it down. He'd never realized how he'd been neglecting April. Was he neglecting Mimi too? He knew April was in the past now. He still loved her, to this day. But now he had Mimi- He didn't want to lose her too.
He stuffed the diary in the drawer of the little table by the couch, put on his coat, grabbed his fended under his arm, and left the apartment.
Maureen tapped him on the arm and shook her head.
"Sorry," he said sheepishly, as rice dribbled from his chopsticks and onto his lap.
Mimi poked at an egg roll, turning it over with her chopsticks, and examining it. None of the food on her plate entered her mouth.
Joanne and Collins ate silently, wondering whether they should break the silence or not.
"I'll get the plates," Joanne finally piped up. She picked up all the plastic plates in one hand, and went into the kitchen to toss them. When she returned, it was still silent.
"So," Collins said, rattling a fortune cookie in his hand, still in the wrapper. "Fortune, anyone?"
***
Roger sat down on the couch, and flipped to the first page of April's diary, both scared and anxious at the same time.
"January 2nd, 1995," the first entry read;
"Today Roger and the gang threw a surprise party for me. I WAS surprised, only because I didn't think that Roger, let alone everyone else would remember. Mark, Maureen, Collins and Benny got everything set up, while Roger took me to lunch. It was cowboy-themed- Plastic cowboy hats, toy guns, fake badges. Pretty sad, but it's the thought that counts. Collins and Benny were having a little TOO MUCH fun with those pistols. Roger had to confiscate them because we could hear them 'Ka-POW-ing' from the hallway, and Roger and Mark's neighbors were starting to get pretty pissy. God, I love him so much. Only Roger would come up with the lamest birthday party in history. Love you, Babe!"
Roger smiled as he remembered that day. It WAS pretty pathetic. But April had loved it. He skipped past a few pages, randomly stopping to read another entry;
"April 24th, 1995. Today, me and Roger had the day all to ourselves. Mark and Maureen went to some spa for the weekend, (her idea, not his) and Collins has been busy down at NYU. I understand, I know how those kids are. I mean, I used to BE one of them."
Roger chuckled, and read on.
"Tonight we just lay in bed together. We didn't have sex- we just talked. Big surprise, right? We talked about EVERYTHING. I've only known the guy for about 3 months, but I still feel like I've known him all my life, you know? He's like that. Tomorrow we're going to go to Central Park for the day. Roger's ideal date: being showered in bird crap, while sitting on a fading statue of Alice from Alice in Wonderland. Such a romantic, my Pooh- Bear is."
Roger set down the book for a moment, and sighed. God, he'd loved her. He still missed her like hell sometimes, when he was lying in bed. Those were usually the nights when Mimi worked late.
He picked up the book, settling it in his lap again. He flipped forward to October.
"I'm starting to get really scared. Every day, I feel worse. I still haven't told Roger yet, I mean- how do you tell the person you love the most that he's going to die? I took Mark's advice, and decided to attend one of those Life Support meetings."
Roger's face turned red with anger. Mark had known that Roger had had AIDS before he knew himself! Furiously, he turned the page, almost ripping it out of the book.
"Well, I just got back from the meeting. It wasn't too bad, to tell you the truth. The leader, Paul, was a pretty cool guy. I know this sounds stupid, but he sort of helped me come to terms with this thing, you know? Anyway, I also became pretty friendly with this girl who was sitting next to me. She introduced herself as Mimi. She's small, and has curly hair. She looks like she's got some sort of Latin heritage."
Panamanian, Roger corrected her in his mind.
"She told me that she found out she was sick only a about a month ago. She works down at The Cat Scratch Club. She's a dances. She's pretty cool and down-to-earth, though. She made me feel a little bit better about everything that'd happened. She said it was best I tell Roger as soon as possible, so we could deal with it together. She's right. Sooner or later, I'll have to tell him."
Roger sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. Why couldn't you have told me in person, April?, he thought, miserably. He gripped the little book tightly in his hands, and continued to read.
***
Maureen's Patti Smith clock that was hung up on the wall read six thirty, but Mimi was already snuggled up on the end of the couch, asleep. Maureen had placed an old, but warm, quilt over her, and was talking quietly with Mark.
"You think those two will make up?" she asked nervously, gazing upon her sleeping friend.
"I hope- well, I don't hope, I KNOW they will. You know how those two are, they love each other to death. Me, on the other hand- I doubt Roger will ever speak to me again."
"Honey, just be glad that I'M still speaking to you," Maureen said, haughtily. "You really have some nerve, Mark.
"I know," Mark said slowly, "I left April's diary outside Roger's door."
"Wow," Maureen said, shaking her head, "You REALLY have some nerve."
***
"What the fuck is Roger's problem? He's NEVER here anymore. He's always out playing with those damn Hungarians. I hardly ever see him anymore. Me and Mark are always kept waiting 'til one in the morning on the couch, and when he DOES come home, he barely even glances at me, just collapses on the bed without saying anything to either of us."
Roger bit his lip, and flipped through the next few pages.
"I feel horrible- and it's not just because I'm sick. Me and I had a couple of drinks tonight while we were waiting up for Roger. We ended up making out. I was drunk, but still, I'd never thought of Mark in a romantic way. It's like he's always there, but sometimes we just sort of use him as the welcome mat to wipe our feet on. I never noticed that until tonight. God knows where Roger is. It's four in the morning, and he's STILL not here. If he ever comes back, he'll probably be stoned. I swear, he loves that damn fender more than me."
"Each day I feel worse. It's like I just don't give a shit about anything anymore. I only leave the house to go to the meetings, and I just pull on a pair of sweatpants and one of Roger's old T-shirts. I don't remember when I last took a shower. I still haven't told Roger. It's eating away at me. I feel like if I don't tell him soon, I'll die faster of guilt than I will of the disease. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad."
A tear dropped onto the page, smudging some of the letters. Roger hadn't realized he's been crying. Embarrassed, although no one else was in the room, he wiped his eyes with his sleeve.
"December 17th, 1995. I can't do it. I can't tell Roger. Not in person, at least. I love him. But I can't take it anymore. I went to my last meeting today. I told Mimi to take care of herself. She looked confused, but just smiled and waved after me. Poor kid. I hope everything turns out okay for her. At least one of us has a chance of surviving this."
Roger turned to the last page of the diary- oh GOD, it was a copy of April's suicide note. He'd read the one that she'd left in the bathroom probably about a hundred times. It was probably engraved in small red letters along his brain now. But still, his eyes lingered over the words.
Dear Roger, I know that I've been a big burden on your life lately. There's a side of me that you don't know. There's something I should have told you. I should have a long time ago. Roger, we've got AIDS. I can't live with myself anymore, knowing that because of me, you're going to die. I don't want to you to have anymore baggage than you've already got. Smile, babe- it's the start of your new life. -April
He had noted when he'd first read the note, that it hadn't even said 'Love, April.' Just 'April.' That had hurt a lot.
He closed the book, and put it down. He'd never realized how he'd been neglecting April. Was he neglecting Mimi too? He knew April was in the past now. He still loved her, to this day. But now he had Mimi- He didn't want to lose her too.
He stuffed the diary in the drawer of the little table by the couch, put on his coat, grabbed his fended under his arm, and left the apartment.