Coffee and Cigarettes

I felt light-headed and dizzy. Still clutching the paper, I stumbled out of Blair's room and burst into Bob's. He shot up from the noise and turned on his lamp. Rubbing his eyes, he said, "Morgan, what do you think you're doing? It's...early! And you were the one who told me to go to bed! Go sleep!"

Unable to utter more than a small whimper, I handed the paper to Bob and broke down in tears. I collapsed onto the floor, propping my back next to his bed. I thought I heard his heart stop when he read the paper, but I was probably just imagining it. I couldn't stop crying, and Bob sat next to me and cradled me in his arms.

"It's okay," he said weakly, hugging me closely. "She'll be fine, I'm sure of it."

I sobbed even more. "N-No she won't," I hiccuped. "She has AIDS, Bob. She's...she's going to die!"

"Don't say that!" Bob nearly shouted. I looked into his eyes...they were cold and stern. Then, his brow softened when he saw the tears in my eyes and how much I was shaking. "I mean," he sighed, "don't say that. Some people who have AIDS live for a really long time. It's possible for them to lead normal lives, and we have to treat her the same as we did before. Understand?"

I nodded meekly. "Yes."

"Good," he said, kissing my forehead. "Go on, go to bed."

Finally managing to lift myself to my feet, I slowly shuffled out of the room, my feet dragging behind me like anvils. Bob quietly closed the door as I crossed the hall to my room. I opened the door and was greeted by the stillness of the night. I knew for a fact that I wouldn't gain one wink of sleep, so I sat at my desk, staring out of my window at the sky.

I didn't know how long I'd been staring for, but I'd noticed that the sky had finally started to change colours. The sun peered over the horizon as the night slowly slipped away.

The sky turned a pinkish hue as the clouds seemed to ebb away, ushering the sun's warm rays. The snow on my windowsill reflected the light and seemed to sparkle like crystal. Everything seemed so perfect for a moment...that is, until I finally snapped back to reality.

My alarm clock finally went off at seven o'clock. I probably looked like a zombie, but I went downstairs anyway. My immediate need was caffeine.

I walked into the kitchen to see my mother, her head lying in her arms on the kitchen table. I went over to her and placed a stray blanket over her shoulders. I took the empty tea mug from the table and put it in the sink before brewing myself a cup of coffee.

I glanced at the calendar as I was waiting for the water to heat up. It was nearly Christmas. Nearly Christmas, and yet my school hadn't dismissed us yet. Not that it mattered. How was I supposed to be thankful for what I have when my sister was in a hospital bed, losing strength with every waking moment?

My breath started becoming shaky again. I clutched the edge of the kitchen counter so tightly that the skin nearly broke. I looked down at my reddened palms and sighed.

"Calm down, Morgan," I whispered to myself. "Just calm down."

I poured myself a cup of coffee, allowing the aroma to fill my nostrils, and then I added my cream and sugar, then I stirred the drink and went up to my room to get ready for school.

"I absolutely hate Mondays," Bob grumbled as he walked slowly out of his room, passing me in the hall. "We'll come to get you after school so we can go to the hospital, alright?"

I sighed and nodded, sipping my coffee silently before wandering into my room.

I gulped down the rest of my drink and got dressed in my usual attire: shirt, jeans, hoodie. No need to complicate things. I ran downstairs, grabbed my bag and coat, slipped on my boots and ran out the door, calling out to Bob so that he knew I was leaving.

I walked along the sidewalk until I met up with Libby.

"Hey," she said, greeting me with a smile. She saw the sullen expression on my face and immediately asked me what was wrong.

"It's Blair," I said, unable to hold in my tears any longer. "She...she has AIDS..."

Then I collapsed in her arms. "Oh, honey..." she cooed, hugging me closely, rubbing my shoulder comfortingly. "It's alright. It'll be fine."

I shook my head.

"It will," she said firmly. "I promise you, it will."

Seemingly out of nowhere, Mikey and Frank ran up to us.

"What's wrong with her?" Frank asked, gesturing to me as Mikey pecked Libby on the cheek.

"Nothing," I said, wiping my eyes and breathing in slowly. "I'm fine."

I started walking swiftly, the other three following suit. Frank walked beside me and wrapped his arm around my waist. I was in no mood for his friendly advances, so I pulled away from his grip.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly.

"No, I'm not okay," I said, sniffling. "I'm not oh-fucking-kay."

I don't think the day could've gone by any slower. I kept watching the clock, waiting for the day to end. I needed to see Blair. I needed to.

Finally, the bell rang and I bolted out of my seat and ran to the front of the school where, sure enough, Bob and my parents were waiting for me in their car. I slid inside and off we drove.

We finally got to the hospital after what seemed like fifty thousand red lights and bumper-to-bumper traffic. We got to the hospital and went to my sister's room. She was sitting up in her bed, reading a magazine.

"Hey," she said to us in a croaky voice.

"Blair," my mom said softly, "we know."

"Know about what?" Blair replied innocently.

My dad sighed. "Don't make this harder for us," he pleaded. "We know about your...condition."

"It doesn't matter," Blair snarled angrily. "I've come to terms with it. I'm going to die and there's nothing I can do."

"Mom, Dad, Bob, can you all leave for a minute?" I asked quietly. "I want to talk to Blair. Alone."

They nodded and walked outside.

I sat next to my sister in a nearby chair. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Blair answered. "What's on your mind?"

After a moment, I asked, "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

She shrugged. "I didn't think you guys needed to hear it. I didn't need Mom and Dad stressing over me, over medical bills...all that shit."

I nodded. "You know, this isn't any easier."

"I know," she answered, looking away.

There was a long silence. Then I said, "How did it happen?"

Blair shifted to look me in the eyes. "Do you remember the day you found me in the motel?"

"Yes."

"I-I'm pretty sure that's how it happened," she stammered. "But...I thought that he was wearing a condom. I thought he was healthy...I never knew...I never knew..." Then she burst into tears. I gripped onto her hand as she kept on sobbing. "I don't even remember his name, I was so drunk..."

"Jon Bishops," I said blankly.

"H-Huh?" she asked, confused.

"His name was Jon Bishops," I replied. "The bastard...if I ever see him, I'll kill him."

"No," she sniffled. "Don't do that."

I sighed. "Whatever, Blair. Anyway, don't you have any medicine or anything that can help you to keep your immune system up?"

"Well," she pondered. "Yeah, there's AZT."

I raised an eyebrow. "Well, if you knew about it, why didn't you get it?"

She chuckled bitterly. "I did," she answered, smiling solemnly. "You threw it away."