Silence ripped through the room as shrill and piercing as one long scream. Hell, maybe it wasn’t the silence, maybe the screaming came from somewhere inside me, because suddenly, I couldn’t hear anything else. Positive. HIV Positive.

I looked at Reese. Had she said anything? I didn’t know.

Positive.

I swallowed thickly. The doctor asked me something, but I couldn’t hear her over the noise in my head. God, it was loud. I nodded at her dumbly, having no idea what I was agreeing to, but knowing that I needed to give some sort of answer. I nodded again, for good measure, before I pushed to my feet and looked down at the two women still sitting on their chairs. The noise became a roar, like an angry sea, pounding on the rocks. I rubbed at my temples, but nothing I did made it any better.

Reese looked up at me with tears shining in her beautiful brown eyes. Why was she crying? I reached a hand out to her, and when my skin touched the silky smoothness of her face, she pressed her cheek into my hand. The roaring quieted.

Positive.

My hand dropped from her face and I spun on my heel, aiming for the door, not entirely sure if my legs would make it that far. I heard Reese call out, heard the doctor say my name. I could hear again, but I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to hear, didn’t want to be in that room. And I sure as hell didn’t want to see that heartbroken look of pity on Reese’s beautiful face. As much as I loved her, I didn’t want that.

I let myself out into the hallway, the door slamming behind me. I took a sharp left turn then a right and another left, finding myself in an unfamiliar hallway. This wasn’t where I’d come in. I was lost in the maze of clinical hallways, but it didn’t matter, as long as I was putting distance between myself and that room. Between myself and the women inside it and their quiet pity that made my stomach churn. I’d done this to myself. I didn’t deserve their pity.

The neon green exit sign filled me with relief. I’d lost count of how many random turns I’d made before I saw it, but an exit meant I could leave that room behind me. I pushed through the doors and sucked in gulps of the fresh air that slapped me on the other side. It wasn’t quite dark yet, but the streetlights had come on, and the city street was bustling with peak hour traffic. All these people trying to get home, while I had no idea where I was headed.

I’d expected to see the car park, but I’d exited onto the other side of the clinic. It didn’t matter. I didn’t have my keys; they were still in Reese’s bag. Not caring which way I went, I moved blindly down the road. Run. I needed to run. That would clear my head and take control of my pounding heart. But my feet wouldn’t cooperate. I stumbled on the uneven footpath. A woman pulled her young son closer to her as they rushed past me. I didn’t blame her. I wouldn’t want my child anywhere near me either. Finally finding control of my feet, I broke into a run.

I don’t know how long I ran for, aimlessly turning corners and cutting through parks. I puffed heavily when I eventually sank down into a bus shelter bench, unable to push my body any further. The wooden planks were rough and splintered under my hands, the shelter walls covered in graffiti.

I leant forward, my elbows resting on my knees, my head propped up with my hands while I tried to force air into my lungs. Jesus Christ. Positive? I was HIV positive. What the fuck was I supposed to do with that? I thought I’d prepared myself for this, thought I was ready for it, but damn if Reese’s positivity hadn’t rubbed off on me a little bit. She’d been so hopeful. And I’d gone and ruined everything.

“You getting on, buddy?” a male voice called, and I lifted my head wearily. I hadn’t even heard the large bus pull in, but there it was with its doors open, and its driver and passengers staring at me. The driver gave me a curious glance. “You okay, mate?”

I nodded and pushed to my feet.

Climbing on board, I stopped in front of the driver, patting my back pocket and thankfully realising that my wallet was still tucked inside. I handed the driver my card.

“Which stop?” He took the card from my hands and hesitated over the card reader.

I looked at him blankly. “Anywhere.” My voice sounded hollow, even to my own ears. “Anywhere but here.”

He shrugged as I pushed past and sank down on the nearest seat. The bus pulled out into the evening peak hour traffic and I shifted uncomfortably as something in my pocket jabbed me in the thigh.

I pulled out my phone and stared at the number of missed calls. Had it been ringing this whole time and I hadn’t even noticed? No, no, it was still on silent from when I’d switched it over at the clinic. But the thirteen missed calls from Reese were new. My finger hovered over the return call button, my heart longing to hear her voice. Instead, I hit the message icon and typed with uncoordinated fingers. I hit send before I could change my mind.