My Life After Now

36

(Ya Got) Trouble




I smoothed the wrinkles from the front of my skirt, took a deep breath, and knocked on Mr. Fisher’s office door. I’d talked my dads into staying home, but now I was regretting that decision. I had no idea what faced me on the other side of that door and I was suddenly feeling the need for backup.

I hadn’t even thought that Mr. Fisher knew who I was. I was a straight-A, problem-free honors student who never cut class and hung out with the drama kids. Maybe this was something he did with all the juniors, as a pre-SAT, pre-college application catch-up session? No, if he had the entire 600-member class to get through, the meeting would surely be during school hours and scheduled far in advance. This was an emergency.

The door swung open and Mr. Fisher looked down at me. I’d never been this close to him before—he was a lot taller than I’d thought, well over six feet. His mustache was redder than the rest of his hair, and his glasses were smudged.

“Please come in, Miss Moore. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me,” he said, and closed the door behind us.

I wasn’t aware I’d had a choice. “Sure,” I said.

“Have a seat,” he said, and gestured to the high-backed leather chair across from his desk, before sitting in his own high-tech office chair. I hoisted myself into my seat, my feet dangling several inches above the floor. I wondered if he purposely kept this chair here to make the students sitting in it feel small. “You’re probably wondering what this is all about.”

“Actually, yeah,” I admitted. “Did I do something wrong?”

He hesitated, and I realized for the first time that he was nervous too. “No, no, no one is in trouble here,” he said.

“Okay…”

“I’ve received some rather…sensitive information, and I would like to speak with you about it,” he said, still avoiding specifics.

My eyes narrowed. “Regarding?”

“Regarding your…health.” He swallowed and forced himself to look me in the eye. “I assume you know what I mean?”

Of course I knew what he meant. But what I didn’t know was how the hell the principal of my school found out. My face flamed with alternating flashes of embarrassment and betrayal.

“Who told you?” I whispered.

“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to say,” he said awkwardly.

I blinked. “Why?”

“There are certain confidentiality laws that come into play here…”

I stared at him for a long moment in shock, trying to figure out what to do. “Mr. Fisher,” I said slowly, “if you’re not going to tell me anything, why did you call me here?”

He cleared his throat. “I wanted to run something by you. As far as I know, you’re the first student at this school with…you know.”

“HIV,” I said pointedly. If he was allowed to make me feel uncomfortable, I was going to do the same to him.

“Indeed. Well, I thought this could be an excellent teaching opportunity. What would you think about leading an assembly on the importance of personal responsibility? I think you’re the perfect example of how something like this could happen to anyone. We could get the health teachers involved if you’d like, but I think the kids would really respond to you.”

I couldn’t believe this. I shouldn’t have to deal with this kind of crap, especially in my own school.

The sound of foot traffic outside the office door gradually increased as busloads of students entered the building. Students who, if Mr. Fisher got his way, would soon be privy to my secret.

I kept my response simple. “No.”

The corners of his mouth turned down just a bit. “May I ask why not?” Mr. Fisher said.

“I don’t think I would feel very comfortable being put on the spot like that,” I said.

Mr. Fisher was nodding, not looking particularly dissuaded by my refusal. “What if I told you,” he said with a knowing air, “that if you reconsidered, you would be excused from Phys. Ed. for the remainder of your tenure at this school?”

“No gym?”

Mr. Fisher chuckled. “It’s my understanding that most girls your age don’t particularly enjoy the Phys. Ed. requirement.”

“But don’t I need the credits in order to graduate?”

“Participating in the assembly would make you eligible for an independent study health credit,” he explained.

For one eternal, beautiful second, I considered never having to be subjected to the hell-on-earth known as dodgeball ever again. I had to admit, I was tempted to accept the offer. But there was something about Mr. Fisher’s self-satisfied smile that wasn’t quite right, and I began to feel uneasy. Something else was going on here…

And then I saw it.

Mr. Fisher wasn’t trying to be nice. He was just trying to cover his own ass. He probably thought he’d concocted the perfect plan: get the girl with HIV to out herself in front of the whole school under the guise of “education,” and then deliberately keep her out of gym class so the other students wouldn’t be at risk. He’d be seen by thousands of parents as a man of action, the one who saved their children from certain death. The PTA would probably crown him Principal of the Year.

Here it is, I realized with a start. My first run-in with real-world, hard-and-fast discrimination. I’d thought I’d been prepared for this moment, that when something like this actually happened to me, I’d know what to do. How naïve I’d been. Roxie’s warnings, the stories shared at the meetings, and the shapeless, colorless hypothetical were nothing compared with the cutting reality.

I felt contaminated, worthless.

Somehow, I managed to keep my gaze level and my voice calm. I had something to say, and I needed to make sure he heard every word. “Mr. Fisher, thank you for the…tempting offer, but my answer is still no. I don’t want to be treated differently from the other students. This is a public school, and I have the right to not be singled out or discriminated against for any reason. I’ll just have to suffer through gym class like every other student.”

I paused, carefully considering my next words. I’d never spoken to an authority figure like this. He was my principal, after all. But still, he had to understand how wrong he was.

“If you ever call me in for another meeting like this, or give me special treatment in any way because of what you know, I will sue you. My father is a lawyer, Mr. Fisher, a really good one.”

He nodded, his skin gone white.

“And another thing—I’m a good student, and I’ve done my homework. Since you clearly take confidentiality laws seriously, here’s one for you: according to New York State law, you are forbidden from disclosing my HIV-positive status to anyone. Not the school nurse, not your wife, not anybody. My health is no one’s business but my own.” Just a little nugget I’d picked up from reading Roxie’s informational pamphlets. “Do you understand?”

“Of course, of course,” he said, unnerved at having lost control of the conversation.

“Good.” Then a terrible thought occurred to me. “You haven’t told someone already, have you?”

“No,” he assured me. “I wanted to speak with you first.”

I gave him a penetrating stare, letting him know I saw right through him. He meant he wanted to make sure I’d go along with his little plan first.

“I’m sorry, I’ve clearly upset you,” Mr. Fisher said quickly, waving his hands as if to wipe away the entire conversation. “I assure you that was not my intention—”

I stood to leave just as the first bell sounded.

“I have to get to class,” I said, and booked it out of there, the nervous layer of sweat on my forehead catching the breeze of the hallway.

• • •

I made a beeline to homeroom, not even bothering to drop my coat off at my locker first. I grabbed Evan, Max, and Courtney by the sleeves and yanked them, stunned, into the hall. My head was still spinning after my meeting with the principal.

“Are you okay?” Courtney said.

“No, I’m not okay,” I snapped. “Who did you tell?”

The three of them just stared back at me.

“One of you said something to someone, and I need to know who.”

Still no one said anything. Fine, I would grill them individually then.

I turned to my right. “Evan?”

He looked back at me, offended. “Jeez, Lucy, I thought I would have earned your trust by now.”

“That’s not an answer,” I pointed out.

He rolled his eyes. “Of course I didn’t tell anyone.”

I stared him down for a few more seconds, and then, satisfied with what I saw, moved on. “Max? Who did you tell?”

“No one, I swear!” he said.

“No one?”

“No one.”

“Swear on your Daniel Radcliffe–autographed Equus Playbill,” I commanded.

“Come on, Luce, are you serious with this?”

“Just do it.”

“Fine.” Max raised his right hand. “I swear on my Daniel Radcliffe–autographed Equus Playbill that I did not tell anyone. Jeez.”

That left Courtney. I turned to my left. “Who did you tell, Court?”

“Lucy, you know me. I would never tell anybody anything that you told me in confidence. You know that,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

I heaved a frustrated sigh. “Well somebody told somebody, and I know it wasn’t my dads. You three are the only other people in Eleanor Falls who know.”

“Can you please just tell us what’s going on?” Max asked.

I lowered my voice. “Mr. Fisher just asked me to do a freaking safe-sex assembly for the entire school.”

“What?” Evan said. “Who told him?”

I gave him an annoyed look. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

• • •

I spent the entire day wracking my brain. Max, Courtney, and Evan swore up and down that they hadn’t said a word, and I believed them. So who could have told? It didn’t make any sense—no one else even knew.

I called Roxie during lunch.

“I know this is going to sound paranoid,” I said, “but you don’t know anyone in Eleanor Falls, do you?”

“What’s Eleanor Falls?” she said.

“It’s the town where I live.”

“Nope. Never heard of it. Why, what’s up?”

“Somebody told the principal of my school about me being positive. And I can’t for the life of me figure out who the hell it would have been.”

Roxie’s voice suddenly got serious. “Lucy, that’s not good. You need to find out who did it, and soon. If they told your principal, they’ll tell the whole school. And you do not want that.”

“I know, I know. I’m working on it.” I sighed. “I’ll see you Thursday.” I hung up the phone and rubbed my temples in frustration.

No one knew. And if no one knew, no one could have told Mr. Fisher. But Mr. Fisher had obviously been told. So what was I missing?

Obviously someone had found out somehow. I didn’t know how, but that wasn’t the point anymore. I had to stop focusing solely on the limited pool of people who I thought knew and start thinking about who would actually do a thing like that. I mean, really, going and tattling to the principal? That was low.

And then, suddenly, halfway through Honors English, it hit me. Of course. There was only one person who hated me that much.