Out of Breath (Exposed Series Book 2) (15 page)

Otherwise I didn’t mind running errands with her. Because she got
errands over with as fast as she could. Maybe she hadn’t always been like that.
Maybe it was just a side effect of running out of time. But I liked the fact
that she didn’t take advantage of my time.

My Mom, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. She would ask
me to come along to do a minor errand like go with her to mail some packages so
she wouldn’t have to pay the meter. Then six stores and four hours later, we’d
pull in the driveway exhausted with a trunk full of crap. And she’d always insist
on buying me something to thank me for “my patience” (a.k.a letting her hold me
hostage) when all I really wanted was my Saturday afternoon back.

Then again, at least my Mom was still healthy enough to run
around all day like that.

“Turn into that lot there.” Dawn pointed up ahead. “Where that
blue car is turning.”

I did as she asked, braking slowly so she wouldn’t feel
compelled to slam her open palm on the dash like she often did to make a point.

“Just throw it in anywhere.”

I parked the car on the border of the lot so she wouldn’t have
to be careful getting out. 

“Do you want me to wait here or come in with you?” she asked.

“What are you talking about? I don’t even know where we are.” I
pulled the key out of the ignition and turned to look over my shoulder at the
building.

“It’s a free Sexual Health Clinic.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“You’re eighteen.”

“So?”

“And you’re not on your period this week.”

“No. How do you-”

“And I’m assuming you’ve never been to the gynecologist?”

“Why would you assume that?”

“Because you didn’t recognize this place.” She unbuckled her
seatbelt. “And because Carol’s in denial and doesn’t think you’re sexually
active.”

I swallowed.

“But you are, aren’t you?”

“Define active?”

“Just come on.” She opened the door and got out.

I did the same, locked the car, and walked to catch up with her
as she headed towards the door. “Are you sure we have to do this now?”

“Well no,” she said, stopping at the entrance. “But wouldn’t you
rather get it over with?”

I looked at the glass doors. “What do I have to do?”

“Just answer a few questions. Then the doctor will give you an
exam and discuss birth control options with you.” She pulled her purse up on
her shoulder. “We’ll be in and out in no time.”

I crossed my arms. “Uh-huh.”

“Kate.”

“Yeah?”

“If I didn’t think this was important, we wouldn’t be here.
Okay?”

I nodded.

“You don’t need to be nervous. Whatever it is you’re worried
about, I assure you they’ve seen worse.”

We went inside and Dawn walked up to the front desk with me past
a half a dozen other teenage girls seated in the waiting room.

“Walk-in?” the woman behind the desk asked. She was wearing a
dated cardigan with tacky pins on it, but had a kind face.

“Yes,” I said.

“Is this your first time here?”

I nodded.

She grabbed a clipboard from a stack beside her and placed it on
the counter. “Just go ahead and fill this out, and when you’re done, bring it
back up to me.”

I took the clipboard and Dawn led the way towards two seats in
the corner of the room.

I stared at the list of questions. The first few were easy,
standard really. And then they got personal. It was an out of body experience
writing that stuff down below my name knowing it would be on file where a total
stranger might see it. 

I tried not to think about what would happen when I was finished.
Instead, I just focused on filling out the form like everyone else. Though I
looked up occasionally to make sure Dawn had her eyes on the Reader’s Digest
she’d grabbed off the table between us.

There were questions that I was happy to answer.

No. My vagina doesn’t itch or burn thank you very much.

No. I’ve never had any STIs.

No. No one is trying to force me to get pregnant against my
will.

And No. I’m not having anal sex. Ever.

But there were more difficult questions, too, questions that
made me feel like I had to lie.  

Like what is your current method of birth control?

I couldn’t exactly write hope, pulling out, and the occasional
condom. So I just wrote condoms.

And do you smoke?

I put “No” even though I hadn’t totally quit yet. But I was
going to soon. Lighting up wasn’t as enjoyable as it used to be now that I’d
spent so much time listening to Dawn wheeze when we were watching television. I
don’t think she knew she was doing it, but it was better than any anti-smoking
campaign I’d ever seen.

After I double checked my answers, I returned to the one at the
top of the form that I’d skipped the first time through. All it said was
“Reason for visit?”

I thought about writing
to get the pill
, but I thought it
would be more mature to write
to discuss my birth control options.

Because even though I wasn’t having sex with Kevin yet, I hoped
to be in the near future. And lots of it.

I gave the clipboard to the woman at the desk and she called my
name before I even got back to my seat. I froze for a second and looked at Dawn.
She gave me an encouraging nod.

I took a deep breath. It was too late to back out. Plus, if I
left then, I’d never see the face of the doctor who had all that information about
my vagina. I mean, what if I saw her in the street and didn’t know to be
embarrassed. God forbid.

The chubby cardigan lady led me to a basic room that looked like
it hadn’t had a fresh coat of paint since the year I was born. Then she gave me
a “gown” to put on that was flimsier than a cheap paper towel. I changed into
it quickly and hoped the doctor would come before I got so cold my nipples tore
through the thing. 

Then I stared at a giant poster that featured the interior cross
section of a man and woman’s sex organs until the doctor arrived.

The first thing I thought when I saw her was that she looked
like my first grade teacher. But I couldn’t decide if that was a good thing. She
shook my hand and smiled before sitting down and addressing the form I’d filled
out which was now in her possession.

“Hi Kate. I’m Dr. Walsh.”

“Hi.”

“You want to discuss birth control options?”

I nodded. “I think I’d like to go on the pill.”

“Have you tried other types of contraception?”

“Condoms,” I said. “But they can break, and sometimes guys don’t
want to wear them.”

“If a guy doesn’t care enough about you to wear a condom, you
shouldn’t be having sex with him.”

“I know,” I said. But it wasn’t always that simple. Surely she
knew that?

“You are aware that even if you’re using the pill to prevent
pregnancy, your partner still needs to wear a condom to protect you from
sexually transmitted infections?”

I nodded.

“Until you are in a committed long term relationship where both
you
and
your partner have been tested.”

“Of course.”

What happened after that was a bit of a blur. She started the
exam by taking my blood pressure which was fine, but then things got weird.
Except weird probably isn’t the word because she was really professional about
it. If you can use the word “professional” to describe how someone feels you up
and looks at your crotch.

I wished she hadn’t shown me the speculum before she used it,
though. I think she thought it might put me at ease, but seeing that giant
plastic beak sort of had the opposite effect. But soon all I could think about
was how weird it was to have a woman between my legs.

And it occurred to me at one point that she probably could’ve
set me straight better than anyone about what most girls my age were doing with
their downstairs landscaping. But I didn’t ask because I was too preoccupied
with holding still and trying to relax so we wouldn’t have an accident with the
cold plastic vagina opener.

Fortunately, she said that everything looked good internally. In
fact, she even went so far as to say I had a very healthy looking cervix. She
said it looked like a tiny donut. Which got me wondering how long it had been
since I’d had one.

Of course, the pleasant distraction disappeared as soon as she
said she was going to give me a smear test. Because
smear
wasn’t a
strong enough word. It felt more like a scrape test, like she was scraping my
insides with sandpaper. I was shocked to discover it had only been a tiny
Q-tip.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“No,” I said. If anything, I preferred the momentary discomfort
of the smear test to the awkwardness of her spelunking up my vag with a
flashlight.

When the doctor was done violating me for my own good, she told
me that once they confirmed that the results of the smear test were normal,
they would call me. Then I could come pick up some birth control. It was so
easy! I couldn’t believe it.

As I walked back to where Dawn was sitting in the waiting room,
my vagina still felt a little cold and lubey. But it seemed a small price to
pay for the peace of mind I would have once I got the pill.

“So?” She closed her Reader’s Digest and tossed it down on a
messy pile of worn magazines. “How’d it go?”

“Fine,” I said. “I can come back and get the pill as soon as
they get the results of my smear test.”

She looked down at the plastic bag in my hand.

“They didn’t want me to leave empty handed today, though,” I
said, explaining away the full bag of condoms that would probably last me
through college. “You should tell Craig he’s getting ripped off at CVS.”

Dawn rolled her eyes and smiled. “I’ll be sure to do that.”

I put my hand out to help her up and then we headed for the
door.

“Thanks for bringing me here,” I said when we were halfway to
the car.

“Your sexual health is important.”

I nodded. “I know.”

“You can take it from here though, right?” she asked. “Or do you
want Carol to come with you next time?”

“Oh my god no!” I said. “She would absolutely freak if she
thought I was even thinking about sex.”

“I was joking,” Dawn said. “But I bet she would be impressed to
know how well you handled yourself in there.”

“She would kill you if she knew.” I regretted the words as soon
as I’d said them.

“She’ll have to hurry up,” Dawn said, slumping into the
passenger seat.

I knew it was unfair to expect her to be brave all the time, but
I hated when she said stuff like that.

She dismissed it with a smile. “Anyway, did the doctor lecture
you properly about condoms?”

“She did.”

“Cause I know what guys are like. They’ll tell you it doesn’t
feel the same, that they’ll pull out, that they’ve been tested, that it’s no
big deal.”

I nodded. I’d heard it all before.

“But it is a big deal.”

“I know.”

“You know what’s an even bigger deal?”

I shook my head.

“Having to tell a man you love that if he wants to be with you,
you either have to have protected sex
forever
or risk that he might get
whatever you have.”

“That would be awful. I can’t even imagine-”

“It happens.” She shook her head. “All the time. People think
they’re just living in the moment and that it won’t happen to them, and then
BAM. They can never have a casual hook up again.”

I furrowed my brow. “Are you trying to tell me that you have an S-”

“No.”

“Okay, good. Cause-”

“But I did.”

“What?”

“I got chlamydia in college.”

“Jesus.”

“I’ve never told anyone that before.”

I just stared at her.

“And not from a one night stand either. From
my boyfriend
.”

Shit.

“That’s how I realized he was cheating on me.”

“What a scumbag.”

“The point is, I was lucky.”

“Lucky?”

“Yeah. For three reasons.” She raised a hand to count them out
on her fingers. “Because I was in a relationship, I hadn’t exposed anyone else
to the risk. So I never had to break the news to someone that I might have
given them something nasty.”

“Ugh.”

“Also, I had visible symptoms, and a lot of people don’t. That’s
why it’s so important to get in the habit of getting tested regularly if you’re-”