We walk in the loft clutching about six bags from our day of shopping. Collins was sitting on the couch reading the Village Voice and Mark sits on the windowsill sipping a cup of tea. Seeing him reminds me of when Roger used to sit on that ledge by the window when he was having a bad day. I never understood why he used to like staring out that window. We live in the East Village. There's nothing worth watching, unless you like watching people smoke a blunt on the sidewalk, or angry homeless people yell at each other.
"Hey you guys!" Joanne says cheerfully as she takes a seat next to Collins. Maureen gives him a kiss on the cheek and sits between Collins and Joanne. I go to the kitchen and start preparing myself a cup of coffee.
"What have you guys been up to all day?" Collins asks giving Joanne a look that probably meant "Good you kept her busy. No shooting up today…"
"We went shopping." She says with a smile. "Meems did you have fun?"
I nod as I take a sip of my warm coffee. She gives me a small smile and looks back at Collins. "How you feelin' today, Meems?" he asks me trying to sound casual. Mark probably told him about the ring.
"Uhh, I'm alright." I lie, looking down at my drink. I wasn't feeling well at all. It felt like my head was spinning, probably from lack of sleep.
"That's good…" he says, just loud enough so I can hear what he was saying.
I try to stand up but couldn't. I put my hand on my forehead and breathe in. My stomach starts to twist and I barely make it to the bathroom in time.
All four of them rush in behind me and Maureen holds my hair out of my face, as I empty my stomach in the toilet. Collins grabs a face cloth and runs it under cold water before handing it to me.
"Are you alright?" Joanne asks as I slide into her arms and she gently rubs my back.
I tell her the truth. "I don't know. That was completely out of no where."
"Maybe you should go see a doctor." Mark finally says, "See if everything's okay."
I nod my head in approval. They all look at me worriedly and to be honest, I'm not scared at all.
"This will only sting a little bit, Miss Marquez."
I nod my head and look away as the doctor slid the needle in, drawing blood from my arm. I've been clean for almost a year and yet I still cringe at the sight of needles. No more pain, no more withdrawals…I'm finally getting my life back on track. I hold my breath as I feel the doctor pulling the needle out. Yeah, "only sting a little bit" my ass, I can already feel it start to bruise.
"All done." She smiles weakly, "The results should be in by next week. We'll give you a call."
She doesn't strip off her gloves until my blood was safe in a case labeled "HIV+" on one side. She catches me looking and gives me another brittle smile. I wonder if she thinks I was just another stupid kid who screwed up her life before it even started.
I pull my sleeve down without even bothering to put on a band-aid. I thank her softly and made my way out the door.
"How'd it go?" Maureen asks me as I walked toward her and Joanne.
"She said the results would be in next week. So I guess I gotta come back." I say tiredly as I rub my arm. They nod their head and we walk through the streets in silence.
One Week Later
"Do you want us to go with you?" Joanne asks sounding worried.
"No, it's alright." I tell her with a weak smile, "You guys have been more than enough help. You should go out or something, I'll be back in a couple of hours."
They both smile at me and give me a hug. "I'm sure everything's fine." Maureen says reassuringly.
"Can I help you?"
"I'm Mimi Marquez. I'm supposed to get my results back from when I came last week." I tell her through the little window.
"Oh, right. Here they are." She hands them to me with a smile on her face.
"Thanks." I say as I give her a weak smile.
I don't like how it feels to walk through the streets alone, reading a piece of paper saying whether or not I was gunna live or die. I don't like the feeling of reading it while people brushed passed me, completely alone.
I stare down at the piece of paper. My T-cells are low. But for some reason, I'm not worried or scared. I probably won't even make it to Christmas and I'm not even scared. I guess, being scared or worried is an understatement. The feelings weren't anything new. I'm pretty much used to it. It's all I've ever known, fear, pain, grief and loss. I ran away from home, became a stripper and a junkie and became HIV positive…all that, before I was 19.
And then I met Roger. And for some strange reason, he made me wanna keep going. He made me wanna better myself. He gave me a reason to hold on when I wanted so much to let go; he saved my life.
"Fuck!" I say out loud. Where are my damn keys? The room is spinning and every once in a while I start to forget where I was. I lean against the door, and gave a sigh.
The door opens and I fall into someone's arms. "Oof! Oh hey Roger!" I look up at him and smile, trying to act as normal as I could.
"Mimi, where the hell were you?" he asks looking at me suspiciously like he already knew the answer. He shuts the door behind us and before I had a chance to walk away, he grabbed hold of my arm and turned me around. "Mimi…"
"What? Why do you always have to ask that Rog? I was at work." I manage to say as I got away from his grip. I'm so out of it and I start to wonder why exactly I even came home tonight. He reaches over and grabs my arm again, turning it over and seeing the track marks on my skin. He looks up at me, and I look away.
"Why Mimi?" he asks as he pulls me into his embrace, "Why do you do this to yourself?" I look up at him before I pull myself sharply away.
"I'm going to bed…" I say as I head off to the bedroom.
"Fuck, Mimi! Every night you come home high, and every night I wait for you, hoping that maybe you decided not to get fucked up tonight! Why the hell do you keep doing this?" he yells.
"Oh, and who the fuck are you to lecture me, Roger?" I snap back, "You think you're so perfect now that you're off drugs, well you know what, I don't need this bull shit right now."
"Look at yourself! You're a fucking wreck! I don't even know where you are half the time, and I cant even remember a time when you were with me for more than an hour, much less a time when you're off getting high!"
"There you go, making me out like some worthless junkie again! Come on Roger! Cut me some fucking slack!"
He breathes in deeply and shakes his head. "I can't help but worry about you Mimi. I wanna help you…but I can't if you keep pushing me away like this. Let me help baby…please…" he sounds desperate now," I just…I don't wanna lose you."
Standing still, I stare at him; letting the words he just said process in my head. I've never heard anyone say that to me before…I've never had anyone care. Slowly, I walk up to him and he puts his arms around me, my fingers gripping his baggy sweater tightly.
"I'm sorry…" I whisper softly and I feel his lips against the side of my head. He pulls away gently and moves his mouth to mine, kissing me again. I wanna return it, I wanna give him a kiss that would be better than any of the words that I could ever say, but I couldn't…instead, a shiver goes through my body. He leads me to the bedroom, and lays me down on the bed. He lies down next to me before pulling the blanket over us and clings to my body tightly as he whispers soothing words in my ear until my breathing becomes steady and he holds me tighter. I hear him give a small sigh as he moves my hair out of my face and whispers the three words I've been longing to hear just before I slowly doze off.
"So is everything alright?" Mark asks me as I walk in the loft.
"My T-cells are down…" I reply casually as he hands me a cup of coffee.
"Oh…" he asks, sounding a bit confused.
"It means my immune system is down." I say as I start reading the newspaper and take a sip of my coffee.
He stares at me for a moment and sits down beside me. "Well, you're taking this really well." He says softly.
I continue reading and nod my head. "No use dwelling on it, is there? " I glance sideways and I see him shake his head and look away.
"Now don't get all depressed on me Cohen." I say with a quiet laugh as I rub his back, "It's really not that bad. It just means I gotta be real careful now. I may still have a chance."
He nods his head and smiles, not saying anything.
"So…where is everybody?" I ask, changing the topic.
"Umm, Collins is at work and he wont be back until later on tonight. And Joanne and Maureen are out somewhere." He says softly looking down at his coffee.
I nod my head, not knowing what else to say. Maybe I shouldn't have told him about what happened at the doctor's. He seems to be slowly losing himself each day.
"So I guess it's just us then…" I say trying to sound as cheerful as I could. He gives me a small smile and looks away again. "Let's watch your old films. From like…2 years ago…I wanna see what I looked like then." He looks at be unbelievingly for a minute and laughs.
"Are you sure? I mean…no offence Meems but you were still such a kid then. All those ridicu- I mean…interesting outfits you used to wear. Do you really wanna see that?"
"Just shut up and grab the films, Cohen."