Positive by Elizabeth Barone Page B

night a month ago when he and Jo had come home
from the bar and went shot for shot with a bottle of
tequila — what Jo called "to
kill ya" — in their living
room.
    "I think the reason guys don't wanna date me is
'cause I'm a shitty kisser," she had said, and took a shot from the
bottle.
    David shook his head. "That's not true." He
reached for the bottle, but she held it away from him.
    "How would you
know?" she laughed. "You're gay ."
    He snatched the bottle from her.
"So?"
    " So , you can't kiss me. So, you
don't know what you're talking about." She laughed and leaned back
into the couch.
    He took a shot and held out the bottle to her.
She shook her head and slid down, resting her head in his lap. He
looked down at her. "I'd go straight for you in a heartbeat,
JoJo."
    She snorted. "Can't teach an old dog new
tricks."
    "Bullshit," he said, and put the bottle on the
coffee table. He tilted her chin up and leaned down. She slowly
pulled her face away, laughing. "Stop. Stay still." He scooted down
on the couch and shifted until he lay next to her, his stubble
grazing her cheek. He kissed the tip of her nose.
    She giggled. "That's so not the same
thing."
    He rolled his eyes, then gazed straight into
her eyes. "Do you want me to?" When she said nothing, only gazed
back at him, he kissed her full on the lips. Her lips moved against
his, parted, and he gently pushed his tongue into her mouth. She
shifted and moved so that she lay on top of him, and caressed his
face as her lips moved against his. He knotted his hands in her
silky black hair. It felt like hours passed before they came up for
air. He gazed up at her. "You're not a shitty kisser," he
panted.
    "No?" She reached for his face and brought his
lips back to hers. When she felt him press hard against her leg,
she broke the kiss. "What're we doing?" She giggled, and rested her
forehead against his.
    "Want me to stop?" he asked. A heat she had
never seen filled his eyes. She shook her head, and he pulled her
face back to his.
    * * * * *
    David splashed
more cold water onto his face, then dried off with a paper towel.
He still wore the latex glove on his hand. He glanced at the
clock. Grey's Anatomy would be on soon. He made himself a sandwich,
even though his stomach continued to clench and cramp, and went
into the living room.
    He sat in the dark, the TV flashing its blue
light against his face, his sandwich untouched on the coffee table
his grandmother gave him. When the episode finished, he blinked
himself out of his trance and glanced up at the clock again. He
carried the stale sandwich into the kitchen, dumped it in the
garbage, and went to his room.
    He lay awake in bed long after he heard
Josalee's key in the front door, nauseous from more than the virus
inside of him.

Chapter 3
    Ingrid flew down the street, the wind from her
broken window blowing her blond hair back. Tears streamed down her
face, blurring her vision. The red in her eyes made her irises
stand out like a bluebell in a bed of roses. She screamed and
slammed the steering wheel with the palm of her hand. The
speedometer hit sixty; the speed limit sign she blew past read
25mph.
    The light ahead changed and her foot stomped on
the brakes. "Dammit, dammit, dammit!" Her tires screeched as the
car came to a halt just inches from the bumper of a freshly waxed
sports car. "Fuck!" She pounded the steering wheel
again.
    She glared at the red light. Cars skated
through the intersection. She closed her eyes and took a deep
breath. Beneath her lids she saw herself five months earlier,
sitting in the big blue office chair across from her old school's
principal.
    "So Desiree will take your students," he said.
"We really appreciate everything you've done... Wait, where are you
going?" She walked out of the office without another
word.
    "I knew they were both only temporary," she
said in her empty car, eyes still closed. "I just really thought
they'd keep me this time."
    Someone behind her pressed down on their horn.
It