Slight

“So, sex is like almost a crime.” Laughter.

“Just a few words can separate an orgasm from fifteen years to life. I’m serious.” More laughs. “It’s like the thinnest of lines between rape and sex. He’s doing his thing and all she has to say is ‘no.’ What if they established that as the opposite of a safe word.” Uproarious laughter and hoots and claps. “Thank you guys, you've been a hell of a crowd.” Lacey Borry walked off the stage like a swan gliding through the air. A smile stretched across her face. She met her boyfriend Broderick Casing backstage.

“I killed. I mean I killed them all. How are you babe?”

Casing looked pensive. Some sweat beaded up over his lip and at his temples his hazelnut skin looked ashen.

“I have to talk to you,” he said.

Lacey’s face turned to stone. Her elation left her like air escaping a whoopie cushion.

“I have to tell you something.”

“Why? What’s up?”

“I have HIV.”

The stone turned into a shattered mirror.

“Oh my God, I didn’t know…duh, you haven’t told me until now…oh my God, how long have you known?”

“I just left the doctor’s office. She said that I can just take medicine and I’ll have to stop all my sexual activity.”

“Uh…yeah! What made you think you had it. Did you give it to me?!”

“Look, it was just today. I’m not sure about how long I’ve actually had it. The doc said at least six weeks.”

Lacey was icy in her rage. “You mean to tell me that we’ve been having sex unprotected and you’ve got the monster?”

“Sorry?”

Lacey stormed out with tears streaking her face. She called Uber to get her to her Wilmington, Delaware apartment.

“Lacey, wait!”

She was already walking towards the pick up spot. A driver was in the area. She whisked herself into the vehicle.

In her apartment, she put her hands to her head and sobbed. She sat down on her bed. She felt the three thousand count sheets. She looked at her flatscreen. She tried to watch TV. She couldn’t. An attempt to lift spaghetti to her mouth failed. Sleep ran away from her like a bandit escaping a chain gang.

Somehow, she slept about three hours. Once she dressed and looked at herself in the mirror, she dried her eyes and inhaled. After envisioning herself rolling around in a wheelchair as an AIDS patient, she blocked the thought and exhaled.

Dr. Resa Hinkle’s office passed the test on not only cleanliness but taste. The plaques on the wall had been shined to perfection. Everything glistened and seemed inviting, comforting. Just in case of bad news. Dr. Hinkle said the words,

“You’re negative for HIV.”

Lacey wanted to do a cartwheel. That would definitely mess up the ordered decor.

“Thank you, Dr.”

Lacey returned to the stage that same night. A bounce was in her step like she had never experienced before. An increase in confidence was like a boost of nitrous oxide for an illegal street racing car.

She grabbed the mic.

“So I’m HIV negative.” Applause. A random whoo. “Yeah, I just went to the doc and she said everything was fine with my lady business.” Some chuckles. “My life really.” silence. “But don’t get me wrong I was shook for a minute. Like I thought I had the big one. I was scared y’all. More silence. “It’s like that’s part of the crime/sex dichotomy. In one instance, if you infect your partner, and you didn’t tell them, that’s a felony.” Scattered laughter. “You can go to jail and you just thought you were going to have a good time. But you didn’t inform anyone, now two more spaces are etched on the AIDS quilt. Laughter. “With as many people who have been affected by this horrible virus, you would think that people would be more responsible.” Applause. “If I’m going to get it on with someone, I’m definitely going to tell him like, ‘Yeah, I’ve got HIV. But it’s totally cool. It can only be transferred by blood, semen, vaginal fluid and breastmilk. “I don’t have a cut, I’m not lactating, and we can totally dry hump.” Laughter.

Just then, she saw Casing sit at the bar.

“Ladies and gentlemen, in this room is my attempted second-degree murderer who has HIV and decided not to tell me. Now, like I said, I’m negative but he’s got it.” Silence. “I hope he gets the treatment and lives a happy long life…without me.” Big whoos and applause arose from the crowd.