“Yeah,” I say, tucking a short strand of hair behind my ear. Dad is supposed to be a lapsed Catholic, but he’s more religious than he wants to admit. “I was going to say goodness. Gosh, don’t you know me at all?”

The nurse smiles as she does all the normal things, like taking my blood pressure and checking my heartbeat. She asks me about my period and sexual activity, and I try to ignore Dad, standing at my side.

“It’s nice to see such a close relationship between father and daughter,” she says, holding her clipboard to her chest. “My daughter is attached to my hip. I wish I could leave her alone with her father.”

“Well, I don’t have a mom,” I say, shrugging. “So I don’t have much of a choice.”

Dad gives me another one of his glances, but seeing this lady’s face is worth it. It gets all red and blotchy, like she’s just kicked a puppy by mistake, and she backs toward the door with big, slow steps.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, shaking her head. “Here—change into this gown and make sure to take off your bra. Dr. Walker will be in to see you soon.”

“Simone, that was rude,” Dad says as soon as the door shuts. “It’s not her fault she doesn’t know our family history.”

He makes it sound so formal. People get confused about our family situation, and I guess I can see why. For one, I don’t look like his kid. Even though his skin is the color of darkened sand, it’s clear that I’m black, several shades darker than him. I’m sure people assume I take after my mother, especially when they see the ring on Dad’s left hand. Dad isn’t really out. I don’t think he tells anyone about Pops, not unless he has to. On the other hand, Pops flaunts his ring to everyone within a ten-mile radius. They’re different that way. I just wish the world didn’t spend so much time making Dad feel like he has to hide.

“But she shouldn’t just make assumptions,” I say, stepping behind a curtain and stripping off my clothes. “You know what Pops says: when you assume, you make an ass out of you and me.”

“I know. It gets worse each time I hear it.” He sighs. “Do you have some questions in mind for the doctor?”

“I’m gonna ask her if I can have sex.” I pull the gown over my head, shielding myself from the awkwardness that’s probably all over his face right now. “And about tearing my hymen. Also about pregnancy.”

“Oddly enough, I don’t find this funny.”