Gabby inhales and exhales tiredly. “Do you use protection?”
The way she says it makes me nervous. My dick is starting to wake up for some stupid reason. Maybe becauseGabbyis the one asking it. And she’s asking because of Sarah.
“What… like…”
Gabby looks at me after I stutter. “Do you or do you not use protection,” she asks with that weird casual small smile, like she already knows the answer.
“Sometimes.”
Gabby just stares at me. “I mean… protection for what, pregnancy or STIs?”
Gabby shrugs, pouting her lips as she closes her eyes like she has no fucking idea and is enjoying making me uncomfortable.
I look at her, still nervous, heart beating out of my chest. This isn’t helping.
“It’s either you do or you don’t. Do you use condoms.”
“No not any—no.”
“Okay then. It’s not that hard link,” she says, pressing her finger to the tablet to fill out the answer.
Scratching her forehead before holding the tablet again, she asks, “Have you experienced erectile dysfunction?”
“No.”
“You were really quick withthatone weren’t you?” she quips. “Any symptoms of STIs?” she asks.
“No.”
“Any unusual discharge?”
“No.”
“Any pain during intercourse?” she asks, and I smile.
“Formeor the woman?”
Gabby looks up at me, and I give her a smirk. My skin is still prickling, my body still trembling a little… and it worsens when I notice the look she’s giving me. That absolutedon’t fuck with me todaystare sobers me instantly, causing me to slowly turn my direction back to the front desk.
“No,” I answer almost bitterly.
Would it kill her to crack a joke once in a while?
Most of the questions are pretty moderate, no recreational drugs, only drinking alcohol socially, no fainting episodes. For the fatigue question, I answer no, because all of my fatigue can easily be explained by working overtime.
I didn’t realize how much more stressed I’ve become until after Gabby finishes the form.
I actually feel a little calmer now, thank goodness. I really want to hold her hand the way she did earlier in the car when she was trying to calm me down. She’s the only one who can center me like that.
Jesus, the anxiety of waiting is what’s killing me. Not knowing when they’re going to call my name, seeing people who clearly came after me getting called before me…
This is torture.
Until my name is finally called.
Gabby stands with me, and I wobble a little. She holds me, linking her arm through mine.
“Come on.”
