“So he knows you live in a log cabin in the woods?”
“I do not, Jam-”
“You do so.”
“I live,” I argued, “in a perfectly nice, yes, wood house. In the suburbs.”
“Your house backs up to the woods.”
“So do a lot of houses in my area!”
“You have a woodshed.”
“It’s aworkshop.”
He slurped up the last of his milkshake insouciantly. “It started life as a woodshed. In the woods. You live like a lumberjack, man.”
I harrumphed. “Fuck you. At least I have a yard and not just a stoop.”
“Stoops are cool, you can sit on them and hang out with your neighbors!” he shot back.
I rolled my eyes. “My neighbors. As if I want to spend time with them.”
“That’s because you live in the land of NIMBY republicans, my friend. Aka the suburbs in the woods. Point, made.”
“Maybe I should ask him about his neighbors, huh?” I teased.
Jamal finished his eggs before answering. “Actually, I feel like that’s not the…worst possible strategy? I mean, it’s a bit out of left field, but on the other hand it’s hardly a standard chat-up line, you know? Feels a little more natural.”
I went to take a sip of coffee but discovered my mug was empty. Why was the coffee gone?? I let out a low whine.
“Oh my god,” Jamal chuckled, having seen this behavior before, “you’re ridiculous. It’s coffee, not oxygen. You’ll live.”
“Will I, though?” I upended my mug into my mouth, hoping for a little bit of dregs if nothing else. Nothing.
My reaction earned me an eyeroll. “Maybe don’t bring up coffee to loverboy,” he teased. “We want him to think you’renota toddler.”
“Toddlers don’t drink coffee,” I pointed out.
Laughing, he reached out and pulled my empty mug out of my hand. “Then definitely no more for you.”
“I hate you.”
“You looooove me. Drink your water. Hydrate.” He nudged my glass closer to me. “It’s good for you.”
Scowling, I nevertheless took an obedient sip of water. Ugh, it definitely wasn’t coffee. “Hate you,” I repeated.
His reply was another eye roll as he drew hard on his milkshake straw, making an obscene slurping noise.
I was contemplating whether Jamal would let me get away with requesting another coffee refill when my phone buzzed. As I’d been doing all week, I grabbed for it desperately, hoping this was the all-clear. But it wasn’t an email or an app notification from the patient portal. It was a text. My stomach dropped with disappointment until I saw who the text was from.
Jamison Duschene:Got the last of my results! Negative across the board. Re-test for HIV in 4 weeks and 3 months, but for now we’re in the clear.
“It’s him!” I hissed to Jamal as if we were in danger of being overheard.
He perked up immediately. “What’s he say?”
“Negative across the board.”
