Full Disclosure

by Camryn Garrett

  “Wait, don’t you have a policy for boys coming over?” Lydia asks, folding her arms. “I don’t think that the two of you should be alone.”

  “I hate you,” I say, brushing past her. “I should remind your dad to take pictures of you when prom comes around. We’ll call him.”

  “You wouldn’t,” she says, glaring at me.

  “Lydia is right,” Dad says, raising a brow. “Door open, Simone.”

  “He’s changing, Dad.”

  “So you don’t need to be in there, do you?”

  I sigh, pulling Miles up the stairs with me. He laughs as I drag him into my room, keeping the door open just a crack.

  “Do you actually want me to change?” he asks. “Because I can make it interesting, if you wanna watch.”

  I try not to blush—it’s probably no use—and cross my arms.

  “Yeah, you definitely can’t wear that to the award ceremony.” I turn toward my drawers, trying to find the gift I got for him. “My dad will be up here in a minute, probably.”

  “Wait, what is this?”

  I turn back to see him holding my vibrator. My eyes widen. I leave it under my pillow, but never figured he’d go snooping. I’m pretty sure my cheeks are burning.

  “Miles.” I dive for it, but he just holds it higher. “That’s not yours. It’s private.”

  “Obviously.” He glances at it with a grin. “How many settings does this thing have?”

  “Ugh.” I smack my hands against my thighs. “I was gonna give you something before my parents show up, but now you don’t get it.”

  “A present?” His eyebrows rise, but he still holds the vibrator above my head. “What for?”

  “I don’t know.” I step back, turning toward my drawers. “I’m pretty sure today is important.”

  “Really? I think I forgot.”

  I glance back at him. He’s smirking.

  “Whatever, you don’t need your gift,” I say, turning away. “Anniversaries are for old people, anyway, and it’s only been three months.”

  “I was just joking.” He leans against my back. “You look pretty.”

  “Thank you,” I say, pulling out the box. “You look pretty sometimes, too.”

  He plops on my bed, the vibrator resting on my pillow, which is so weird. There have been many nights where I’ve sat here and talked to him, thought of him. “Um, maybe you shouldn’t sit on my bed. I just—I do stuff there.”

  “Really?” He snickers. “With the vibrator?”

  “I don’t have to talk about this.”

  “Wait,” he says, pulling his bag open. “I have something for you, too. Even though anniversaries are for old people. It’s for good luck.”

  He tosses a maroon bundle at me, and the box in my hands topples to the floor. I glare at him, but his face doesn’t change at all.

  “You’re a pain,” I mutter, unwrapping the bundle. It’s a black sweatshirt with a golden Hamilton logo in the center. “Okay, I actually really love this. Now I have my own lucky sweatshirt and it’s awesome.”

  I pull it over my head and get stuck halfway before wriggling through.

  “Ugh,” I say. “Now my hair’s all messed up.”

  “It’s fine,” Miles says. “It’s always fine.”

  “You’re such a sap,” I say, even though I am, too.

  “Maybe,” he says. “What’d you drop on the floor?”

  I glance down at the box. Giggles escape my lips.

  “You okay there?”

  “Oh yeah,” I say. “They’re condoms. I got, like, four different kinds and put them all in here. There’s ordinary latex and glow-in-the-dark and blueberry and ‘intensified orgasm,’ which sounds fun.”

  His eyes widen. For a second, I’m sure that this is going to be an intense moment, but then he starts to laugh. Not just normal laughing, either, but the way I figure people laughed when Eddie Murphy was still on SNL.

  “Okay, I didn’t tell you that to be funny.” I sit down next to him, pulling at the sweatshirt. “I just mean—you know. Three more months. It’s not supposed to be funny.”

  “I’m not—I’m not laughing at you,” he says, turning toward me. “Okay, maybe I am, a little bit.”

  “You don’t get any condoms,” I say, reaching for the box. “They’re for people who are nice to me, okay?”

  He kisses me. I was going to say something about a lacrosse team in New York, but it’s sort of hard to think when I’m kissing Miles. Then I feel something hit my cheek. I push Miles away as he starts to laugh.

  “You did not throw a condom in my face.”

  “Maybe I did.” God, I like his smile. “But don’t take it the wrong way. I only give condoms to cute girls who are being a pain.”

  I grab a handful out of the box, tossing them in his face.

  “There are a ton for you, then,” I say, grinning. “Because you’re the biggest pain.”

  “Okay, so—” He lunges for the box, and I jump off the bed. Since he has all the ammo, he just keeps tossing it in my face. I lunge for the box, doubling over in laughter, but he jerks out of the way.

  “I bet you wish you played lacrosse now,” he says, tossing a condom in my face. “Because I have more stamina than you.”

  “I bought the condoms,” I say, grabbing a handful off the floor. “So at least I can do something right.”

  “In what world are blueberry condoms right?”

  “Hey!”

  I pelt him with condoms. He puts his hands up, laughing as I back him into a corner. There are so many on the floor that my room looks like there’s about to be a really large orgy.

  “Come on,” I say. “You can do better than that.”

  “Oh, shut up.” He throws a blueberry condom in my face.

  “Prepare to meet your fate,” I say, ripping open one condom, then another. “Do you have any last words?”

  “You think about me when you masturbate,” he sings. “And I’m always going to remember that.”

  “Not the right words,” I say, throwing them in his face. “Dude, you’re going to be in trouble if someone ever holds you at gunpoint.”

  “Simone?” The door swings open, and I freeze. “We have to go now, or we’re going to be late. Is Miles ready?”

  Dad and Pops are both standing in the doorway. I see their eyes move from the vibrator on the bed to the condoms in my hands and on the floor. Miles stands up, his jersey decorated with blue condoms. This is what happens when I’m left alone with boys.

  “Whoa,” Claudia says, running into the room. “Is this what straight boys do? Is this, like, a mating call?”

  “I don’t think so,” Lydia says, squinting. “I never did any of this with Ethan.”

  “Who the hell is Ethan?” I ask, raising a brow. “You’re dating Ian.”

  “I’ve had other boyfriends, Simone.”

  “I just…” Pops’s voice trails off. He rubs his temples and looks at Dad. “Why didn’t we get a normal child? Everyone else has normal kids.”

  “This is not sex,” I say, dropping the condoms. “I promise.”

  “Definitely not sex,” Miles agrees. “We were, uh—”

  “I don’t need to know,” Dad says, sighing. “I definitely don’t need to know. Just do me a favor and get ready, all right? And take off that sweatshirt for the ceremony.”

  “Remember when you two said you were really proud of me?” I say, giving them a smile. “Remember when you said I’d win all the awards? Hold on to that pride.”

  “Well, you didn’t have a condom in your hair then,” Dad says, crossing his arms. “But I guess I’m still proud.”

  “You guys,” I say, feeling around in my hair. “Come on.”

  Miles pulls a condom from the back of my head. I have to bite my lip to keep
from laughing. The idea of using that specific condom makes me laugh.

  “I’ve always been proud, Simone,” Dad says, gripping the doorknob in his hand. “And I’m always going to be.”

  I smile at him. It’s not the first time that he’s said it, but maybe it’s the first time I’ve been just as proud of myself. I survived the play and the kid who outed me in front of everyone. I survived coming out to my best friends as bisexual. I can survive a lot more.

  “So, you’re proud of me for buying condoms?”

  Pops glares at me. “Don’t push it.”

  Miles laughs into my shoulder.

  “I love you all the time,” he whispers. “Especially when you buy condoms.”

  I freeze, unable to hide my smile. He grips my hand, and I hold it closer to my heart.

  “I’m changing my mind,” I say, leaning back into him. “I think that I love you in the super-dramatic way. If that’s okay.”

  “It’s more than okay.” He kisses my neck. “Maybe later, I can show you how okay I am with it.”

  “I think I’m gonna throw up,” Claudia says, rolling her eyes. “This is disgusting.”

  “Aw, come on.” I hold my hand out for the girls. “I love you guys in the super-dramatic way, too. I always will.”

  We’re all pressed together, the people that I love with me. And so what if I don’t win Best Director at the ceremony tonight? I don’t need acceptance from some random judges, not when I have this: heaps of condoms, and excellent people.

  EPILOGUE

  The next time I have a gynecologist appointment, Dad wants to listen to Aretha in the car, and before long, Pops is belting out the lyrics to “(You Make Me Feel Like a) Natural Woman” so loud I’m surprised it doesn’t stop traffic.

  These are the moments I secretly love.

  It’s just that I’d rather see my doctor by myself.

  “So,” I say, tapping on my knee as Dad pulls into a parking spot. “What would you say if I asked you two to drop me off?”

  They pause, sharing one of their looks. I can’t read their expressions from the back seat. Aretha continues singing in the background.

  “I mean, I love you and everything,” I say, biting my lip. “It’s just—I’ll be eighteen soon. You’re my parents, but I’m the one responsible for me, especially when it comes to—you know. Sex and stuff.”

  This definitely sounded less awkward in my head.

  “Why don’t we go outside?” Pops clears his throat. “It’ll be easier to talk.”

  I bite back a groan, unbuckling my seat belt and sliding out the door. Pops and Dad stand next to each other. It’s just like the first day they dropped me off at Our Lady of Lourdes, when Dad wouldn’t stop hugging me and Pops made me take the blanket from the end of their bed. It smelled like clean soap and mint. Like them.

  Fuck. I don’t need to get all emotional now. This is important.

  “I’m old enough to go by myself,” I say, rushing out the words so they can’t interrupt me. “I get that you’re worried and that’s fine and everything, but you don’t have to baby me or freak out about me and sex. I’ve researched and talked to people and I’m going to make good choices. I just need you to trust me to do that.”

  Dad smiles. “We know.”

  “I know I’m still your kid, but—”

  Wait. I close my mouth. Did he say what I think he said?

  “We know that you understand the risks of sex,” Pops says, heaving a deep breath. “And it’s important that you manage your own sexuality.”

  “Really?” I raise a brow, folding my arms. “Are you serious?”

  “Is it such a surprise?” Dad asks, leaning against the car. Pops leans against him, and I follow suit. The three of us look like we’re posing for a car magazine. “You’re obviously a responsible young lady.”

  “It’s true.” Pops nods, but he looks a lot more reluctant. “You’re not a little girl anymore.”

  “But we want to be here to support you,” Dad continues, snaking an arm around my shoulders. “Whether that’s out here or in the waiting room.”

  “Preferably in the waiting room,” Pops interrupts. I snort, but he keeps going. “What your dad is trying to say is that we know you can do this on your own, but that doesn’t mean you have to. We’re always here.”

  Shit. I might cry. And if I cry, one of them will cry, and we’ll have a crying fest.

  “We want to help,” Dad says, pulling me close. “However we can.”

  I suck in a breath, forcing tears back. It’s weird to think of them on the sidelines instead of front and center. They’ve always given me freedom—at Our Lady of Lourdes, at Sacred Heart, with my friends. But this is a new step. A big step. Even though I’m glad to take it, I’m glad that they aren’t completely gone.

  “Could you come inside?” I ask. “And, like, wait in there?”

  Dad smiles. “Of course, cariño.”

  “We’re right behind you.” Pops knocks his shoulder with mine. “Lead the way, Simone.”

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  My interest in HIV and AIDS existed long before Simone did. We spoke briefly about HIV and AIDS in my high school health class, but it wasn’t until I started reading blogs written by parents of kids with HIV that my education truly began. It was while researching and learning that Simone’s character came to life.

  Once I had a basic idea of who Simone was, I took my research to the next level to figure out the details of her story. This led me down several different avenues: I watched movies and read blogs, shared early drafts of the manuscript with readers who were HIV-positive, and followed people on social media. At first, I just wanted to know what life was like for a teen with HIV, but I soon found myself interested in the AIDS epidemic in the United States and the ways different communities responded. I’m still shocked I didn’t learn any of this in school.

  The resources listed below were extremely useful to me, not just in ensuring Simone’s story was true-to-life, but because they taught me a wealth of information. I’m still learning and always will be. I hope these resources will teach you something new as well.

  DOCUMENTARIES:

  The Battle of amfAR, directed by Rob Epstein and Jeffrey Friedman (HBO, 2013)

  Blood Brother, directed by John Pogue (2018)

  How to Survive a Plague, directed by David France (2012)

  We Were Here, directed by David Weismann (2011)

  FICTIONAL MOVIES:

  Angels in America, various directors (TV miniseries, 2003)

  BPM (Beats per Minute), directed by Robin Campillo (2017)

  Rent, directed by Chris Columbus (Sony Pictures, 2015)

  BOOKS:

  Angels in America: A Gay Fantasy on National Themes by Tony Kushner, rev. ed. (New York: Theatre Communications Group, Inc., 2013)

  The Great Believers by Rebecca Makkai (New York: Viking, 2018)

  How to Write an Autobiographical Novel by Alexander Chee (New York: Mariner Books, 2018)

  The Normal Heart by Larry Kramer (New York: Samuel French, Inc., 1985)

  Reports from the Holocaust: The Making of an AIDS Activist by Larry Kramer (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1989)

  ARTICLES:

  “American Woman Who Adopted HIV-Positive Child Tells Parents There Is ‘Nothing to Be Afraid Of,’ ” by Lizzie Dearden. Published September 22, 2014, in The Independent.

  “HIV Did Not Stop Me from Having a Biological Child,” by Ben Banks. Published June 25, 2014, in Time.

  “I Feel Blessed to Be HIV+ in the Age of PrEP and TasP,” by Jeff Leavell. Published March 7, 2018, in Them.

  “Odd Blood: Serodiscordancy, or, Life with an HIV-Positive Partner,” by John Fram. Published March 29, 2012, in The Atlantic.

  “Telling JJ: A year after learning she ha
s HIV, an 11-year-old has a breakthrough,” by John Woodrow Cox. Published August 27, 2016, in The Washington Post.

  WEBSITES:

  AdvocatesForYouth.org

  Advocates for Youth is a nonprofit that works with young people and other organizations to champion sexual health and rights. They have a bunch of programs, including ECHO, which trains HIV-positive youth to become leaders in the movement to combat the stigma against HIV/AIDS. They also coordinate National Youth HIV and AIDS Awareness Day, and the hashtag #MyStoryOutLoud, which is an online storytelling project for HIV-positive youth and LGBTQ+ youth of color.

  HIV.gov

  This is the US government’s HIV-focused website. A good resource for up-to-date facts and figures.

  PedAIDS.org

  This is the website for the Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric AIDS Foundation, a nonprofit that works to prevent HIV and stop AIDS around the world, specifically in children.

  POZ.com

  An online magazine for people with or impacted by HIV/AIDS. There are columns and first-person accounts and all kinds of other information. I turned to this website a lot when I was writing my book. It shows how vast the experience of having HIV is and also how different HIV-positive people can be from each other.

  UNAIDS.org

  This United Nations program is committed to raising awareness and fighting AIDS on a global scale. Its website includes data and resources from around the world.

  * * *

  —

  Even though Simone is very real to me, she isn’t actually a real person. But all of her great qualities—her determination, perseverance, you name it—are reflected in these activists I drew inspiration from. The five activists included below all have HIV and use their voices to advocate for themselves and others. You can read their work, listen to their talks, or follow them on social media (I recommend doing all three).