“I don’t think I can be mad at her,” I say, choosing my words carefully. “I have been, before, because she probably could’ve stopped me from getting the virus. But she was really young—I know that—and she had to deal with being sick and pregnant. I think she was probably alone, too. That must’ve been hard.”

I glance at Miles out of the corner of my eye. He’s nodding really big. I’m not sure what to make of it at all, honestly.

“Can I ask more?”

I nod, almost too quickly. My hands fumble to put the note cards back in my pocket. I don’t need them anymore.

“Do you take a lot of pills?”

“Just one a day.”

“Right,” he says, putting his hands in his lap. “That’s good, right?”

I nod. I almost want to smile. He seems just as nervous as me.

“And…I’m not going to get it by hanging out with you?”

The harder question. I wish I had Dr. Khan here to answer all the questions calmly and professionally, but Miles will have to settle for my awkward answers. Strangely, I don’t feel so awkward anymore. Thinking about my parents makes me feel better. If they chose me, wanted me, other people will, too.

Miles bites his lip. “Was that a stupid question?”

“No, it’s…normal,” I say. “Transmitting HIV by touching is basically impossible, and you can inactivate it with soap if blood spills or anything. The only way you can transmit it is through bodily fluids, like blood or breast milk….”

“Or, like, sperm.”

Now I’m flustered again.

“Well, like, semen,” I say. “Or cum. I don’t know—like, whatever comes out.”

He snickers.

“What?” I say, leaning away from him. “It’s true.”

“You sound so much like a doctor—you have this whole time,” he says, shaking his head. “And then you just say cum. Completely changed the tone.”

“Well, that’s what it is.”

“Yeah,” he says, shrugging. “But it’s—you know.”

I don’t know, but I don’t think I want to find out. There’s too much going on for me to hear him talk about sex. It’s funny, the way I do it with Claudia and Lydia without it being a big deal. To hear him just say the word makes my skin flush. I hate being embarrassed about this.

“Anyway,” I say. “It can’t be transmitted if your viral load—like, the amount of virus they can find in your blood—is undetectable.”

“Is yours?”

“Yeah.” It comes out as a squeak. “It is. I found out on Monday. But my gynecologist says I should wait until it’s been this way for six months.”