by Opal Carew
“Ah-huh. He’s been working on it since Halloween. As always, our electric bill is already stratospheric.”
I burst out in a chuckle of happy memories which caused the two elderly Upper West Side women walking next to me to twist their necks and glare in my direction. “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too, son.” She paused for a second then said, “You’re lucky, you know that?”
“How so?” I didn’t feel it.
“Honey, you have all these Manhattanites who care about you. Heck, you go missing for a few hours and Thor panics and calls us.”
“That’s because Thor’s a drama queen, Mother,” I exclaimed with a twinge of sarcasm.
She laughed infectiously. “Yes, he is. But he adores you. They all do. That makes me less anxious about you being away at school in that city.”
“Dad and you are only a two-hour drive.”
“With traffic, it’s three hours,” she corrected. “You’re a world away.”
A born and bred New Englander, Mom had wanted me and the girls to attend Yale. Taddy had begged for us to go west to Pepperdine in California, but Lex and Vive won. They both wanted Manhattan. I couldn’t blame them. Although, the mere thought of being on the Malibu campus right then—as I froze my butt off—sure sounded good.
“It feels like a different world, that’s for sure.”
“All right, I’ll let you get back to your studies. But before you go, I have one question to ask you, son.”
Damn. I knew it was coming. I braced myself and muttered, “Okay…”
“Your father saw on the news somethin’ about a nightclub and a bunch of teenagers getting roofied. Were any of your older friends—you know, the seniors, who are of legal age—there that night?”
And there it was…the dreaded question.
Years of experience as being her son had told me that she already knew the answer to her own question. After all, my mother was a mastermind when it came to rhetoric communication. Never mind the fact that she had some weird ESP powers where she always knew when I’d gotten myself into trouble without me even having to tell her. It freaked me out!
Regardless, I had to get to my dorm, get ready for class, and I honestly didn’t want to make her worry, so for the first time in my new adult life, I omitted the truth and replied, “No, Mom. I gotta go. I love you. Hugs to Dad.”
And hung up.
I felt horrible. But it was for her own good. The less she knows, the better off she’ll be. Right?
* * *
“Hey, bitch,” Thor greeted me in an unusually extra-sassy tone as I walked into the door.
Our dorm room was almost the same size as Diego’s and Miguel’s, but decorated in purple, Thor’s favorite color. He believed one had to brand their life in a theme of varying hues. Personally, I’d never heard of such a thing, but he’d talked Taddy into taking up the color red.
He’d told me once when we first met, “The Edwards are practically American royalty. Sure there’s there are the Kennedys, du Ponts, Hearsts, Rockefellers, and Waltons, but none of them have as much money as us. So purple, being a royal color, must always be incorporated into my life.”
Isn’t that fascinating?
From our drapes, to the bedspreads, and even our lampshades, had a shade of grape, violet, lavender, and mulberry everywhere.
Seriously. It was enough to make ‘ya barf.
He was folding his clothes and organizing his shoes. Throwing a sneaker into a box, he wiped a tear from his eyes and shouted, “I thought you were dead! I texted everyone in the city we knew. I called the hospital. I saw the stinkin’ news. Poppy White—you know, my galpal who has her own TV show—said she heard from Sissy St. John, who heard from her older brother Beau that you had indeed snuck into Glamorama, that you were all rave-dancing with your shirts off, and that you’d overdosed. Then I started calling your family. I totally freaked the fudge out. I needed to talk to you.” Out of breath, he flailed a piece of paper in the air. “Look! I was just starting to write your eulogy!”
Trying hard not to roll my eyes because I didn’t want to set him off even more than he already was, I gave him a reassuring smile.
“I know, my mom told me. I apologize for making you worry. Truly sorry.” I filled him in on the girls, and the events at the hospital, as I grabbed my books from the shelf.
He seemed more annoyed than concerned, which was odd because Thor had the biggest heart of gold of anyone I knew. Something else was bothering him…
Studying him, I tried to figure out why he was so irked.
He wasn’t easy to talk to. Not like the girls. That was probably why he wasn’t part of the inner clique. Thor could be cunty. And I mean that with love. With a tongue which could cut Taddy’s in half, he didn’t put up with Lex’s crybaby ways, he had more money than Vive’s family, and was a threat to the girls. Thor didn’t need them and they didn’t want him, so it sorta left their friendship in a casual place. Closer than acquaintances but not quiet besties, the only one in the group who could really stand Thor, other than myself, was Vive. I think that was because they were so much alike.
“Last night, I stayed at the hospital and the night before that, I was at Diego’s.”
“Did he fuck you?” he asked in a snippy tone.
“Nope.” An unfamiliar wave of disappointment came through me. God, how I wished I’d had the chance. “He wanted me to fuck him, though.”
“I never would’ve pegged you for a top, but hey, gurl, if the shoe fits, wear it.” He tossed the other sneaker into the box and wiped his face on his sweater.
Eyeing him, I zipped up my backpack thinking he was in rare form right then. “Is that why you’re so upset? Because I stayed with Diego?”
“Ha! It’s not always about you, bitch.”
“I didn’t say it was. But clearly, something is bothering you.” I shrugged to show my confusion.
“Damn right something is bothering me.”
Glancing around the room, I realized he wasn’t getting ready for his day of studies, but was moving out. “Thor, why are you packing?”
“I’m withdrawing from school. I’m going to take some time off and regroup. Maybe go to St. Barth’s.”
“Why?” Although the Caribbean sure sounded good right about then, I didn’t understand.
“Gurl, you know I hate the winters in the city. They’re too cold. My skin gets dry and chapped.” He had a stubborn look on his face.
I walked over to him, my patience fading. Yanking the box from his hands, I raised my voice. “Tell me what the frick is goin’ on.”
Near the edge of the bed, he stood still as a statue. The copper-colored hair which he’d recently died from black to red seemed wet, sweaty. His well-groomed appearance was incongruous with his perspiration.
“Were you at the gym?”
“No.” His hands rested on his hips.
“Why are you sweating so much?” It wasn’t like Thor to perspire. Quaffed as if he worked for the style section at the New York Times, usually the man was matte from head to toe.
“I’m sick…” His voice—unlike I’d ever heard before—dropped in volume.
He’d had the flu for a few weeks, hence why he didn’t go out dancing with us the other night.
“Thought you went to the infirmary.”
“I did. They referred me to a specialist.”
I wasn’t liking the sound of this. Taking a seat on the edge of my bed, I waited for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, I removed my sneakers, then my socks, and asked, “Well…let’s hear it. What’s wrong with you? It had better not be Mono.”
When we were at Avon Porter, Taddy had gotten mononucleosis. Poor thing was sick as a dog for months.
“That I got it.” He blinked nervously.
“Got what?”
“The…bug.” He ground the words out between his teeth.
“You mean the flu that’s going around?”
“No. I have HIV.” A faint threa
d of hysteria came from the back of his throat.
His words, clear as the morning sun in Central Park, made my already anxious-mind spin into overdrive.
Fuck no!
Chapter Six
Upper West Side, the dorms
The Death of Fear
There are those moments in life where you feel as though someone just pushed you off the top of the Empire State Building, and you’re falling straight for the pavement. That’s how I felt as I repeated the dreaded acronym, “HIV.”
“Yup. That’s what the medical community calls it.” His left brow raised a fraction.
We sat in silence for a second. The space heater in the corner made a humming noise. I could hear the kids down the hall laughing in a jovial way about something.
“Maybe there’s a mistake,” I finally spoke. “A false positive.”
“I’ve taken the test three times.” He flung his hands out in despair. His cuticles appeared gnawed. I didn’t notice them earlier. He must’ve bit the hell out of his nails due to stress. “I’ve gone to the school clinic and my family doctor downtown. They’ve all confirmed that I’m…infected.”
Hoping I could take some of his pain away, I ran over and wrapped him in my arms. I pulled him as close to me as humanly possible.
Fear. I could smell it coming off him almost as if he’d sprayed on a new cologne. Thor was terrified.
As we hugged, the tears like a spigot started uncontrollably out of my eyes. I didn’t want him to see I was crying, but my chest felt as if it would burst if I didn’t let them out. Inhaling deeply into my mouth, I couldn’t speak.
He jerked back, catching sight of my sadness. Frantically, he shook his head. “Don’t you dare fucking cry for me, Blake.”
Sniveling, I ran forearm under my nose. “You’re going to be fine. There’s medicine. You’ll be undetectable—”
“Shut up,” he snapped.
I tried to remain optimistic. “Everything will work out—”
“Stop saying that! I’m positive. I will forever be labeled a poz queen. From now on, whenever I date a guy, I’ll have to have that talk beforehand. It’s bad enough that we have to be segregated to specifying whether we’re top or bottom, masculine or feminine, out or closeted, but now I’ll have to add poz or neg to the list. The likelihood of me finding Mr. Right or even a Mr. Good Enough is gone. I’m going to be single for the rest of my life. I can forget about having kids, too.”
“That’s not true and you know it. There are tons of positive guys who lead active and normal lives, Thor.”
“Oh, really? Name one.”
“Greg Louganis,” I replied.
“Okay one. But what about Liberace, Keith Haring, and Freddie Mercury? They all died from AIDS-related illnesses.”
“You don’t have AIDS. You have HIV. You and I both know there’s difference. If you take your medication, it won’t escalate to that.”
“People will gossip about me.”
“Folks have always talked about you, Thor,” I tried to make a joke as I wiped my eyes.
Thor’s family were the frontrunners of New York City society. Their name was on every fundraiser. They’d made 911 monuments downtown. And had their own wing at the Metropolitan Museum of Art uptown. I know!
“Seriously, what am I doing to do?”
“It’s not a death sentence. Stay in school.”
“No. I can’t. My parents want me out of New York.”
“You mean they want the HIV to go away.” My mind raced thinking about his possible options. His folks were so upper-crust it was sorta suffocating. They barely accepted Thor for being gay. They’d wanted him to attend Oxford, across the pond, away from New York. And now this…
“Exactly.”
“If you think life is going to be hard being HIV positive, try going out into the real world with no college education.”
Shit. A bachelor’s degree was the new high school diploma. Everyone I knew had argued that graduate school was the new bachelor’s degree. MBA’s were a dime a dozen in this town. And that we all should look into getting our PhD’s. I would be thirty by the time I was done with my education.
“I can’t. My parents want me to go away for a bit.”
“What did they say?”
“Dad won’t talk to me. Mom’s the one who got me the ticket. She said they need time to think.”
“Fuck them, Thor.” I started to put his clothes back in the closet. “You’re staying in fucking school. This is New York fucking City. There are the best fucking doctors here. You’ll go to your fucking classes and for fucking medical treatment. You’ll go on fucking medication.”
“I’ve never heard you say the word fuck so many times in my life.”
“How many?” I curved my lips about to laugh.
“Seven…I think.” He grinned back at me.
Seeing him smile gave me hope for him and his sanity. I needed to see that famous Thornton Edwards smile.
To be honest, I didn’t know what I was talking about. I’d never had a friend who got HIV before. But surely going off to some exotic spa wasn’t the answer. Thor needed to be around the people who loved him.
“You going to tell the girls?” I asked.
“No. My parents told me if I tell anyone they were going to cut me off financially.”
“Why?”
“Shame…”
“But they are the biggest fundraisers in this town. They could easily champion a cure.”
“Miss thang, I may be cute as hell, but I sure as fudge am not going to be the poster boy for HIV.”
“No. I guess not. But I don’t think it’s anything to be ashamed of.”
He glared at me as if hadn’t a clue in the world as to what I was talking about. Like I said, I didn’t exactly know how to handle this.
“What did your doctor say?”
“He gave me some pills to take. Three a day. A blue one, an orange one, and a yellow one.”
“How long do you take ‘em?”
“For the rest of my natural life. Doc says as long as I’m on them I should be fine. But there are no guarantees as to how my body is going to react. I’ve been on them for only a day and I’m already nauseous.”
“And the flu-like symptoms?”
“In time, he said the medication would make them go away.”
“Thor. I hate to ask you this but…do you know who infected you?”
Since we’d arrived in Manhattan, Thor had been a bit of a party animal. A gangbang here, a threesome there. But I never judged. I’d just assumed he’d always used protection.
“Nope.” He rolled his eyes. “That’s what’s making me feel worse. I have no idea who I got it from. So whoever he is could easily still be out there infecting others.”
“Oh, boy…”
“The doctors said they could tell in time where the strand came from.”
“How?”
“If the person who infected me tested positive, they’d show his strand of HIV. It would match mine. New York State has a computer system that identifies everyone who’s been infected.”
“So your health insurance knows?” I asked, realizing the seriousness of the situation.
“Yup, my parents know, the doctors, the health insurance company, and the fucking Dean does, too.”
Oh, Jesus. “Well, this stops at me. I won’t say a word to anyone. Ever.”
His blue eyes narrowed into slits. “I’d like to believe you.”
“I know, I tell the girls everything.”
In spite of the situation he laughed. “It’s like you Manhattanites share a brain or something.”
“I’m all they got.”
“Well, I never thought I’d have something in common with those tabloid girls, but I will say in, all honesty, you’re all I got, too.”
I reached for his hand and squeezed it. “I’m here for you. Always.”
“Promise me you won’t tell anyone.”
I nodded. “As long as you stay in s
chool. You drop out, I’ll call Page Six and have ‘em run a story on your sex life.”
“Hardy har har. Very funny.” He stood up from the bed and started to unpack one of the boxes. “I’ll stay in school, but you have to promise me something more than the fact that you’ll keep your mouth shut.”
I smiled at him. “Of course...”
“You won’t look at me any differently than you did before.”
“I promise.” Making the ‘scout’s honor’ sign, I elaborated by crossing my heart and continued, “No judgments here. I won’t look at you and see HIV, just my gay bestie Thor Edwards. The first boy I kissed at Avon Porter. The gay bestie who made growing up a little queer okay. My roommate at college.”
“I need one more favor.”
I nodded.
“If I ever get sick—”
“Don’t talk like that.”
“Seriously, Blake. My parents can’t be trusted. Look at how they reacted to this.”
“Give them time…”
“Just swear to me if I ever get sick, you’ll be at my side. That you’ll take care of me. I don’t want them to send me away.”
“Of course. Although, now that you’re on that medication, it’s like Teflon for your immune system. You’ll never be sick.” I forced a smile and swallowed that cry I’d had earlier. It was returning.
He came over to my edge of the bed and sat, burying his head on my lap. “I’m glad you’re home, Blake. I was up all night worried about you.”
Rocking him back and forth in my arms as he started to sob, I muttered, “You can sleep now. I’m here…I’m right here.”
After he fell asleep, I crawled into my own twin bed. Classes could wait. Mind numb, I pulled the sheets up to my chest and laid there on my back thinking about my friends.
I realized, right then and there, that all of life’s choices have repercussions. Some good. Some bad. That whatever I spent the following day doing and the day after that would shape the rest of my life. Taddy might not ever be able to have children again. Thor will always be HIV positive.