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Chapter Eight
Addy
“Comeon,wedon’tneed to do this,” Izzy groans as I park outside the doctor’s office.
She pulls her hoodie up over her head and tugs on the strings so that her face is covered.
I grab the hoodie and gently stretch it until I can pull it back down. She frowns at me, a sulky expression on her face. I have a brief but fleeting urge to smack her. Teenagers. As much as I love my sister, she’s definitely not as grown up as she thinks she is. Sometimes I think maybe I attribute more maturity to her than is really there.
“If you’re going to be having sex, you will be a responsible woman about your sex life and talk to your doctor,” I say as I turn off the car. Izzy’s cheeks turn pink and she crosses her arms.
“I’m not getting out.”
Ha. She thinks she’s getting out of this one? She’ll have to try harder than that.
“That’s okay, they do car visits.”
“Addy, stop! You can’t force me to do this!” Izzy turns to me, anger flaring up in her eyes.
“No, but I can ground you. And make sure you’re never home alone again.” I shrug as if it would be no big deal.
Izzy rolls her eyes like the child she still is and scoffs.
“You can’t quit your job,” she says, the annoying tone she uses when she’s being a know-it-all seeping through her words.
“Who said anything about quitting my job? You know, the thing I love living at the Porterston apartments is that we have great neighbors. Jorge, Mrs.Sunderson… you know, they both adore you very much, and I’m sure they wouldn’t mind spending evenings with you. Mrs. Sunderson has gotten so lonely since her daughter moved to New Jersey…,” I raise a brow as Izzy meets my eyes directly, her expression challenging. She falters when the severity of my words is reflected in my face. Izzy sighs and opens the door.
“Fine. Let’s go.”
I lock the car as we make the way to the tiny clinic we’ve both been going to for the past five years. It’s the best one that accepts Medicaid, since I can’t afford to pay for health insurance for the both of us. It’s the same place that I go for my own birth control pills.
When we walk into the room, cold air rushes into our faces. The room is quiet despite the number of people sitting in the waiting room. It smells like bleach, the cleanliness of the place unquestionable.
“Oh, my God, we’re going to be here forever,” Izzy murmurs as she looks around.
“We are not. We have an appointment.” I lead Izzy up to the counter. After talking to the receptionist she instructs us to sit in the waiting room and fill out the appropriate forms.
“What’s libido?” Izzy asks, twirling the pen in her hand as she reads the form. I blink and look at the clipboard she’s holding.
“What?”
Izzy points to the question and shows it to me.
Have you been experiencing changes in libido?the question reads. I shake my head. Can they not make a separate form for teenagers? How the hell are they supposed to be answering questions about their libido?
“Just leave that one blank,” I say, my tone clipped as my annoyance at the clinic heightens.
Izzy looks at me with uncertainty.
“But–”
“Blank,Izzy.”
Izzy sighs before she nods and finishes filling out the form in silence.
When she’s done with the pen she pulls out her phone and scrolls aimlessly while I look around the doctor's office. Various women sit, some with babies, some with husbands. And my sister has me.
I can’t imagine what would have happened if she was living with Mom. Mom barely paid attention to me when Dad was around -- I can’t imagine how much time she would have dedicated to Izzy now that she has a new husband.