“Why not?” His mouth twists. “We’ve had fun together before.”

“Having pneumonia was more fun than listening to you talk through Mad Max.” I take out my phone. My parents need to come now. “It’s not happening, Ralph.”

“Why do you have to be such a bitch about it?” He steps closer, almost cornering me against the wall. “It was just a question. Maybe you wouldn’t have so much trouble finding someone to have sex with you if you learned how to be nicer.”

“What does that even mean?” I snap. If Julie were still here, she’d be trying to mediate, but it’s just us and a few wide-eyed kids. “I’m only a bitch to you because you ask for it.”

My phone beeps. I don’t even read the message. As soon as I see Dad’s name, I turn on my heel and walk toward the door.

CHAPTER 7

There are a few secrets I won’t share with just anyone. One is the fact that I have HIV, obviously. But there’s also the fact that I didn’t know how to masturbate until one of my old friends taught me. She took me into her room, with Sarah trailing behind. We locked the door—against the rules at Our Lady of Lourdes—and she pulled up pictures of the guys from The Vampire Diaries on Tumblr. Then I lay down on her bed, with a blanket over me, and she talked me through it.

It’s embarrassing as hell, but hey, it was eighth grade. Can you blame me?

It’s a little different now, mostly because of the viewing material. Claudia laughed when I told her, but I like to look at pictures of old white guys from their prime years. Say whatever you want about me, but Bruce Willis, Harrison Ford, and Richard Gere weren’t bad-looking at all. Sometimes Cate Blanchett is thrown into the mix, but Claudia says it doesn’t count.

“She’s Cate Blanchett,” Claudia had said emphatically. And that was the last time I talked to her about possibly liking girls.

When I’m done this time, I stare up at my ceiling. Our house isn’t wide, but it’s tall and narrow, and my room is at the very top. Being so far away means that my parents can’t hear me. At least, I think they can’t. If they can, I’m grateful they’ve never mentioned it. After I finish, my brain is normally clear. It’s like the moment right before I drift off to sleep, no worries at all. Right now, though, I can’t stop thinking. It might be horrible, but I’m jealous of my friends.

Claudia’s asexual, and I know she doesn’t spend her mornings thinking about sex the way I do. On the other hand, Lydia fools around with her boyfriend when her parents aren’t home. I have neither situation.