Page 87 of Like a Love Story
“Yes, you do,” I say, trying hard to hide any trace of envy in my voice. “You’re lucky.”
“I know that now,” she says. “I think, I don’t know, that it’s easy to take things for granted when you’re young.”
“Wait, are we old now?” I ask, and she laughs again.
“You know what I mean,” she says, swatting my shoulder. “Anyway, we’re older.” She’s right, we are definitely older. “So... ,” she says, her voice dropping an octave. “Have you lost your virginity? Whatever that means to you. I know gay virginity is different.”
I stop for a moment, not sure I’m ready to discuss all this with her. I don’t want to alienate her. I don’t want to betray Reza. But then I remember she’s my best friend.She’s the person I’m supposed to talk through this stuff with. “He’s still afraid,” I say sadly. “So we mostly kiss. He won’t even let me take his pants off.”
She looks over at me with real empathy. “I hate AIDS,” she says.
“I hate it too,” I say.
We look at each other in silence for a long beat, saying nothing, letting all our hatred and fear bring us closer to each other.
“It’ll be over someday,” Judy says. “I know it will.” I can tell what she’s thinking. That it may not be over in time to save Stephen. But she doesn’t linger in sadness. She shifts her tone and jokes, “And then you’ll take his pants off.”
I laugh and add, “Oh, I won’t take his pants off. I’lltearthem off. With my teeth. Like a tiger that’s just been unleashed from zoo captivity.”
She laughs again. God, I love her laugh. I love the way she makes me feel, like I matter. She has always made me feel that way. “And imagine all those years of anticipation built up inside him,” she says. “It’ll be the most insane sex of all time.”
“Hopefully it won’t be years,” I say. “Maybe it’ll just be a few more months.”
“You think?” she asks. “You think the CDC or the NIH has the cure and is just sitting on it?”
“I have to believe that,” I say. “I just have to.”
“I know you do,” she says. “I do, too. I just...” She looks deep inside me, like she can see my soul. “Sometimes I lose hope, Art.”
Stephen is in the air now. His presence and his absence. We both know Stephen must be in really bad shape if he didn’t come to Maryland. He orchestrated our reunion perfectly. I just hope it’s not one of his final acts of goodness. I need him to keep fighting, keep adding more goodness to the world.
“I know,” I say. I hold her hand, squeeze it tight, trying hard to transmit hope to her.
“Change the subject,” she says, her voice quivering. “Please.”
“What about you?” I ask quickly. “No new men at all now that you’re a popular girl?”
“Oh, come on, I amnota popular girl,” she says, a little embarrassed by the description. “And I don’t want to be. I’ll always be a proud freak.” After a pause, her face reddens and she adds, “But, um, I might have hooked up with Reza’s stepbrother.”
“What?” I squeal, clapping my hands together. “No seriously, WHAT?!”
“And he may have called me since because he wants to do it again,” she says.
“I’m sorry, but I need ALL the details. How did this even happen?”
“Well, I was a little drunk, so...” She’s blushing even harder now.
“You gorgeous hussy,” I say, and she laughs. “Do you like him?”
“No!” she says quickly. “But it was fun. That’s okay, right?”
“Fun is definitely okay,” I say. “You deserve fun.”
“And he’s one hundred percent straight,” she says. “Which was a refreshing change for me.”
“You deserve straight, too.” I look at her with new eyes. She’s still Judy, but she does seem different. More confident. More grown-up.
We both finish our croissants. “You’re the first person I told that Saadi story to.”
