Mixology: Sabrina's Life As You Know It
an excerpt

I got it from some townie whose name I can't even fucking remember. I do remember every detail of his fugly face, though.

"Sissies smoke. Sissies take the cute little pills. If you're hardcore, you shoot up." We were sitting by the pool as he expertly pierced the needle into just the right spot on his forearm. He offered me the syringe. "Wanna try? It's Special K, you don't find this shit from just anyone."

Yes, doing drugs was a bad idea. I was aware of that. I suppose I accepted his offer as a big "fuck you" to my parents. Cutting off the nose to spite the face, and all that. "I guess I could use it," I stammered.

"Bad day, huh?"

I nodded.

"This'll help, I promise."

I woke up on the couch the next day with the worst headache of my life. Luckily, all my clothes were still on, but an unscheduled medical exam held in my school the next week brought bad news anyway. I may have tested negative for drugs since it happened a week later, and no, I wasn't pregnant, but I tested positive for something else.

The young nurse's expression as he returned with my test results was unforgettable. It was a look of poorly-concealed dread and shock, like, "You? Really?"

"Miss Wainwright, um...you tested positive for HIV."

My mind went blank. I could feel the future my parents wanted for me crumbling to pieces. I looked up at him, still trying to process what I had just heard. "Are you gonna tell my parents?"

There are three main ways to contract HIV: needle-sharing, sex, or being born with it. Since I tested negative during the last medical exam, my parents could easily deduce that I was either a druggie or an ex-virgin. That sucked for me, because as I've said, my mom is a very religious Mexican and my dad is a conservative WASP. Not a good mix. If my parents found out, I'd be at best, the black sheep; at worst, disowned. So, I beat them to the punch.

That night, I sneaked out of the mansion with nothing in my suitcase but some clothes and a little cash I'd saved up -- Daddy's credit card would have left a paper trail. I took a bus out of Hartford, and my family never saw me again.