A Mild Case

This trip to the STD clinic will extend this relationship another week. Because she needs to prove that she’s not shallow, and that when she said she liked him that she meant it and it wasn’t just about the sex and to end it now would make her look like a liar. And he needs to stay with her at least until the test results come back because if he leaves in the meantime then their conversations about treatment or prescriptions will be more uncomfortable than they need to be. And he does like her. Not as much as his ex, but more than he likes most people.  

It’s a clinic in Chelsea, so they’re the only straight people in the sanitized waiting room. There’s a flat-screen on the wall showing gay sex health tips on loop. The production value of the videos is fantastic because it’s Chelsea. 

They’re waiting for their names to get called. They’d gotten coffee before because they were hungover again. She dressed well, he didn’t. 

When did they start dating? It depends on whose timeline you use. She’d be inclined to say the first date, and he’d be inclined to say the third date, the first time they’d had sex, because he’d hooked up with another girl somewhere in between those first few dates. They weren’t exclusive during that time, but they were later. That was his view on it, anyway.

They’re doomed, but it’s not like they didn’t have fun. There was that one time they went to the Indian place, because she was Indian, and the owner treated her like his daughter. She said there was this paternal element in Indian men’s treatment of her in the US that never turned creepy. 

He’d thought, without saying it, that culture is wonderful but it hurts. Like, it’s wonderful to participate in it, but if you’re away from it, and it’s your home, then you’ll miss it so badly. If you don’t have an identifiable culture then you’ll never miss it. He didn’t have a culture, he was just regular white, with a little Irish and a little Italian. He was from New Jersey, living in New York, so what was he? American? He didn’t think of himself like that, because everyone he’d ever met was American. She was born in Indian, and identified as Indian, but she wasn’t home, and he was at home but he’d didn’t know if he’d miss it if he left.

Dinner was amazing, tandoori wish naan rolls, so when they got back to her apartment she picked a Bollywood movie to watch on Netflix, something she’d really enjoyed from her childhood. He went into it with an open mind, and it’s not that he didn’t like Bollywood or musicals, it’s just that the movie sucked. It sucked very badly, it was bloated and cheesy and overly sentimental. And when it was over, two hours and forty minutes later, she said something like “wow I don’t remember it being that long.” They were still in that relationship phase where you present things that you like to the other person and you hope they like it too. They’re not going to get to that point where you realize “oh that thing is just his/her thing, I’ve gotta let them do that thing alone.” Which sounds sad but is actually healthy, I think. 

They are next in line in the waiting room. And there’s nothing to say. He’d tried to say it all in the text he sent her yesterday. He’d told her about the symptoms, and how most STD’s in girls are asymptomatic, so there’s no telling who gave it to who, but they both knew which one was more sexually active and if they’d bet on this sort of thing they’d both put their money on him. She’d taken some of the responsibility, too. She’d said she regretted saying they didn’t have to use condoms, which he’d remembered as more of a team decision but he was happy to share blame. 

She was nice to him and he didn’t feel like he’d been very nice to her. It wasn’t on purpose, he didn’t think.

 He’d shown up late to the movies for a date night that she’d planned. He had a good excuse, he’d been helping his brother move, but they both knew he could’ve tried harder to get there on time, especially considering how he’d been late to another dinner they’d had. She was so mad at him. She didn’t show it, obviously, they both tried to enjoy the movie. They walked in after the previews, so there was no telling how long the movie had been on for. They both tried to get caught up on the plot, which wasn’t hard because it was “A Star is Born” and they both knew what was gunna happen. So for the next two hours they both sat and watched a superior relationship

She let him know how she felt as they were walking out of the theater. She said that she’d never let anyone walk over her like he did, that the next time he was late it’d be over. He thought that was a weird place to draw the line. He didn’t try to defend himself, just saying that he had a lot of things going on. She said had a lot of things going on too, but she never used it as an excuse. 

She was walking ahead of him to his car, and as she walked he watched her dark, dark hair shimmer in the Manhattan street light, and for a moment he loved her for how proud she was.

Finally, the doctor called his name and he followed him into the room. They talked symptoms and the doctor said it was just HPV, which there’s no treatment for, and no telling who gave it to who or when. And it might flare up from time to time, or it might not, and it might be contagious during a flare-up, or it might not, no one’s really sure. It’s a thing that’s mild and fades over time until you forgot almost everything about it.