Positive (6 page)

Ingrid stood. "So why did you guys hook up? How
does that even happen?"

"Tequila," Josalee said, leaning against a
counter.

Ingrid half smiled. "Tequila," she repeated,
shaking her head. "Yeah, that'll do it. So what are you gonna
do?"

Chapter 12

Victor shoved his change into his front pocket
and went straight back to the bar.

"The usual?" the bartender called over the
music. She wore another tight corset.

He nodded and drummed his fingers on the
counter. His eyes were dull in the dim lights, and dark circles
underlined them. The bartender placed his rum and cola in front of
him and he slid the money toward her.

"Hey," Mercedes whispered in his ear. He turned
and smiled. She wore only a thong and smelled like honey. His eyes
settled on her breasts, her skin shiny with baby oil.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked, still
staring at her chest. His jeans felt tight.

She shook her head. "I don't drink on the job."
The bartender slid her a glass of soda and she sipped from the
straw, leaving a dark red kiss on the tip. "I can think of other
things you can buy, though," Mercedes said.

Victor followed her to the Champagne Room. He
sat down in the dark. A moment later, lights low like candlelight
during a blackout came on. She stood in front of him, her long hair
covering her breasts. "What would you like tonight?"

He sighed and put his drink down on the end
table. "I just wanna talk," he said, adjusting his
jeans.

"Talk?" she repeated, glancing down at his fly.
"That's it?"

"For now." He straightened in his chair and
laced his hands behind his head. "But you can dance, if you'd
like." She stepped closer to him and began to sway her hips. "And
maybe move your hair," he added.

She smiled. "That's more like the Vic I know."
She brushed her hair over her shoulders and swayed a little faster,
like a hula girl. "So what do you want to talk about?"

"My girlfriend," he said without blinking, his
eyes locked on her body. "It's like we're strangers at
home."

"I ain't no therapist," she said, lowering the
straps of her thong.

He held up a hand. "Just dance." She shrugged
and placed each of her hands on his knees, her breasts hanging
inches from his face. "We've lived together for two years. I wanna
ask her to marry me."

"Then what the hell are you doing here?"
Mercedes laughed. Her lips brushed against the stubble on his
cheek, and a hot chill ran down his spine.

He swallowed hard and stared into her eyes. "I
think you know why." He tightened his intertwined fingers behind
his head until his knuckles ached. "She won't talk to me," he
continued. "She lost her job."

"Maybe she's depressed," Mercedes said, and sat
down on his lap. She ground her body against his and he inhaled
sharply.

"We need to slow down," he said. She laughed.
His locked fingers tightened behind his head until his fingertips
began to numb. "I can't do this while I talk about her."

She sighed and caressed his cheek. "Then why
are you here?" She touched the zipper of his fly.

"I just want to talk," he said, his voice
getting louder. "I love her."

Mercedes laughed, then stopped at the sound of
small knuckles rapping on the wooden door. She stood and flitted to
it, opening it a crack. "Yeah?"

* * * * *

Ingrid rolled her
eyes.
She
would
be back
here
, she thought. "I need the room.
Time's up."

Mercedes smirked.
"I have a client. A
regular
."

Ingrid took a
deep breath. "Most of my
regulars
are sitting around Stage Two, waiting for me to
come back." She pushed against the door, but Mercedes held
it.

"I was here first," Mercedes said, and slammed
the door.

Ingrid stood in the hall, her blood pounding in
her ears. She bit down on her lip and turned to her own
client.

* * * * *

David's key turned in the lock, and Josalee sat
up straighter on the couch. He led Wes into the living room. "Jo,"
he said, forcing a smile. "You're home." He took Wes's hand and
started toward the stairs.

"David," she said, and stood. She pressed her
lips together and wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes
wide.

He stopped, one hand frozen on the banister,
the other still loosely holding Wes's hand. "Yeah?"

She glanced from David to Wes, then locked eyes
with David. "I have to talk to you," she said. She felt like her
voice came from a blown out speaker.

"Okay," he said. "I'll be down in a while." He
grinned at Wes.

"I need to talk
to you
now
." She
felt the tears surge down her cheeks, and she wiped them
away.

David stared at her, and the color drained from
his face. He turned to Wes and opened his mouth, but nothing came
out.

Wes squeezed his hand, then kissed his cheek.
"Call me," he said, and slipped out of the apartment.

Josalee sat down again and closed her eyes. She
took a deep breath and tried to relax her shoulders, but they
remained hunched around her neck, as though guarding her from the
blows of an assailant.

David stood frozen on the stairs, his heart
pounding. "Jo?" he squeaked.

"I need to tell you something," she said. She
opened her eyes and curled her hands into fists in her
lap.

His lips parted, and his hand tightened on the
banister. "Okay."

She exhaled. "I'm pregnant."

He sat down on the stairs as though someone
shoved him. Sweat beaded on his upper lip and hairline.

"And," she sobbed, "I'm so sorry." The tears
ran down her cheeks like rain during a hurricane. "I had blood work
done. They told me I'm HIV positive."

David's mouth fell open. The room went grey and
swayed around him. "No," he whispered. He reached up for the
banister, clenched his fingers around it, and pulled himself up. He
took two shaky steps down the stairs. Without looking at Josalee,
he turned the knob and left the apartment.

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Upside Down
(On the
Edge #2)

Octavia took a sip of her orange smoothie and
settled onto the bench. The wood creaked underneath her. Her hair
spiraled toward the sky, as fluffy as her bottom. She adjusted the
waistband of her leggings and amped up the volume on her
headphones. In just a few minutes, she would be on the bus, and
then she would be at her parents' house, gathering some of her last
few boxes. Sure, it would have been easier to rent a truck, but she
needed every cent for her apartment.

Her
apartment. She smiled at the possessive. "It's
all mine," she said, then glanced around. A man leaned against the
glass of the bus stop box, loose curls covering his face.
"
Always
get caught talkin' to myself." She
giggled.

The
man
—
who looked about her
age
—
didn't smile back. The
breeze brushed his brown hair out of his face, revealing tracks of
drying tears.

"Damn," Octavia said. "You look about as happy
as a stripper on a dead night. My friend's a stripper. Don't know
why, but she loves that damn job. Hey, you okay?" She scooted
closer to where he stood and yanked one of her headphones out. His
head hung and he stared at the ground. "Dude, you strung out on
somethin'?"

He sighed. "This shit usually happens to heroin
addicts," he said.

One of her eyebrows shot up. "So you are strung
out. I've never met a bona fide junkie." She plucked the other
headphone out of her ear.

He shook his
head. "I can see
why
people get addicted, though." He pushed off the
glass and paced, his hands shoved into his
pockets.

"You get in a fight with your girlfriend?" She
leaned forward.

He laughed, a short outburst. "I'm
gay."

"Damn!" She snapped her fingers and shook her
head. After a beat, she cocked her head at him. "If you ain't got
no girl causin' you trouble, what're you crying about,
Curls?"

He swiped away
fresh tears and sat down next to her. "I messed up.
Way
up." He glanced
down the road, eyes scanning for the bus.

"Tell Auntie Octavia all about it," she said.
She pulled a packet of Newports from her backpack and lit one, then
held the others out to him.

He shook his
head, then his eyes drifted back into the distance. "I've never
been attracted to women.
Ever
. And then I met her." Octavia
raised another eyebrow. "We both ended up choosing Fashion my
freshman year. We went to a technical high school," he clarified.
"I was good at sewing but not so much at designing. She was a great
designer and could ruche like nobody's business. After high school,
we moved in together because her father's a dick and my parents
hate gay people."

She
hmph
ed. "I hear ya. My
parents hate fat people. 'Octavia, why don't you diet?' 'Octavia,
why don't you go for a walk?'" She rolled her eyes and crossed her
legs. "I'm happy just the way I am. Busted my ass to get outta that
house." She gently touched his shoulder. "Go on."

The bus rolled to
a stop in front of them, air rushing out of its brakes in a
long
whoosh
. They rose in unison and boarded, sitting next to each
other. "I slept around a lot in college," he proceeded. "I ended up
dropping out. Jo was always there for me every time I cried because
some guy broke up with me because I slept with someone else. And
then I started feeling shitty all of a sudden, all the time. Fever,
chills, sweats, sores..."

Octavia's eyes met his.
"AIDS?"

"How did you know?" he asked, his eyes
pooling.

She jabbed a finger at her chest. "Nurse." She
grinned. "That's the only way I could afford my own place, 'cept
I'll never be around to enjoy it." She patted his knee. "I'm sorry,
Curls."

He rested his
head against the window, staring out at the houses that blurred by.
"That's not even the worst part." Outside, a man held a woman's
hand as she pushed a toddler in a stroller. He turned back to
Octavia. "Jo and I had too much to drink one night back when I
started feeling shitty. Today she told me she's pregnant
and
HIV positive."

They both stared out the window for a few
minutes. "So what the fuck you doin' here?" Octavia asked, turning
back to him. He shook his head. "Well," she said after a moment,
"you wanna make a quick buck?"

Buy
Upside Down Now

About the Author

Elizabeth attended W.F. Kaynor Technical High School,
focusing on Culinary Arts. After cooking up a storm for four years,
she decided to pursue a career in web design. She attended
Naugatuck Valley Community College and graduated in 2008 with an
A.S. in Multimedia/Web Authoring. She describes her adventures in
cooking and web design as "writers' boot camp."

Aside from
Positive
and the rest of the On the Edge
novelettes
,
she is the author of the
ESX series
, a rock ’n’
roll romance. She is also the author of
Crazy Comes in Threes
,
the first book in the Comes in Threes series.

Elizabeth lives
in Connecticut with her husband and cat. Visit her website
at
http://elizabethbarone.net
.