‘And do you have a regular sexual partner? A boyfriend?’ She looks up.

‘Sort of…’ I flush. ‘It’s the same guy recently, if that’s what you mean…’ I trail off as she looks down at her notes.

‘I’m asking because the pill won’t protect you from sexually transmitted diseases,’ she says, like I’m six, or younger, even. ‘Have you been using condoms until now?’

‘Yes,’ I say, face burning.

She sits, waiting as if she thinks I’ll say something else.

‘And have you ever had unprotected sex?’

The upside down watch on her white coat ticks into the silence.

‘Have you ever been tested for any sexually transmitted diseases, Carly? You might also have heard them described as STI’s…’

I cough.

‘Sexually transmitted diseases are very serious illnesses like gonorrhoea, syphilis—’

‘And AIDS,’ I interrupt, forcing myself to look at her. ‘I know what they are. And I don’t have them. I’ve always used condoms before. I know how to protect myself. I just want the pill now I’ve…’

‘Yes, I see,’ she says, looking down at her pad again.

‘When did you first become sexually active?’

‘Why does that matter?’ I fidget in my seat, another clock ticking above her head. It’s well into history now. We’re so screwed. At least I hate history. Who cares about what happened ages ago? It hardly matters now, does it? Ma wasn’t mental, once upon a time. Like that makes any difference now she’s basically brain dead. 42

Wendy the Woodpecker blinks at me. ‘And do your parents know you are sexually active?’

I laugh in spite of myself.

‘I’m sure you’re aware you’re still a minor,’ she says, six-year-old voice again. ‘You’re having underage sexual intercourse. Does your boyfriend know how old you are?’

‘I know, alright?’ I am suddenly uncomfortably hot, school blazer scratching like an itchy blanket. ‘And I know what I’m doing. Can I have it or not?’

‘I’ll need to check your weight,’ she says after a minute, motioning to the scales by the wall next to the desk. I stand, relieved to take off my jacket and shoes. ‘And if you could just roll up your sleeve…’

I follow instructions, turning this way and that, nodding, grunting, even smiling, until finally the door opens, fresh air rushes in, she hands me a small slip of paper, a paper sack full of condoms and says ‘don’t forget to take it every day’ even though I’m already halfway down the corridor.

Outside, I feel like the breeze is kissing my face.

‘See?’ Rach says. ‘It’ll be so much easier for us now…’

I walk faster, her babble fading out behind me. If we can just make it back during first break then it should be easy to sneak in without any drama.

43

Marie ~ London ~ 2006