Reborn: Exposing My HIV-Positive Roommate

"Calista, what is wrong with you?" Madison Walker shot to her feet.

The entire class of over 40 students turned to look at us.

Madison clutched her lower abdomen, her eyes welling up with tears. "It's fine if you don't want to give me one. Did you really have to broadcast it to the whole room?"

I snapped the cap back onto my pen, my expression completely impassive. "Periods are natural. There's nothing to be ashamed of. You were too embarrassed to ask loudly, so I helped you out."

My response left her speechless.

A few students nearby lowered their heads to hide their laughter, while others whispered that I was too blunt.

Madison glared at me. "Forget it."

Hunched over in pain, she grabbed her bag and walked out.

After class, the class group chat quickly blew up with messages.

Someone joked, "Calista yelling like that today scared the hell out of me!"

"Madison looked mortified."

"Still, it's pretty rude to shout about something like that across a crowded room."

Madison stayed silent in the group chat, choosing to post on her social media instead.

There was no caption—just a photo of a sterile hospital hallway showing an IV stand, white walls, and a portion of her wrist.

Within ten minutes, the comments poured in.

"What happened, Madison?"

"Bad cramps?"

She replied to every single person with the exact same message. "I'm fine. It was my own fault."

Madison didn't show up for class the next day.

And the day after that, she still hadn't returned to the dorm.

Our other two roommates, Nancy Smith and Judy Towne, whispered back and forth in hushed tones.

"What happened to Maddie?"

"She said she couldn't talk about it."

That afternoon, I had just left the library when the student advisor, Percy Cobb, called me.

"Calista, report to the administrative office immediately."

When I arrived, Madison was sitting on the couch, looking pale and clutching a medical report.

Dr. Barry Keller from the campus health center was there too.

Percy sat behind his desk, his brow furrowed. "Calista, Madison has reported something serious."

Madison looked up at me. Her eyes were swollen and bloodshot, as if she had been crying all night.

"Calista, I didn't want to blow this out of proportion." Her voice trembled. "But I'm really scared."

Percy placed a medical report on his desk. "Madison was tested at the hospital and was diagnosed with an infection."

He paused, then continued, "She said she borrowed a sanitary pad from you a few days ago."

I met his gaze. "And did she actually get one from me?"

Madison instantly burst into tears. "You didn't give me one in class that day, but I asked you for one the night before in our dorm.

"You gave me one from your drawer. I noticed the wrapper looked like one corner had already been peeled open, but I didn't think anything of it at the time."

Percy said sternly, "Calista, you can't just deny something like this. You need to cooperate with the school and get tested at a hospital."

"I never gave her a pad," I insisted.

"Your word alone isn't enough." Percy's tone hardened. "You live together, share a bathroom, and are close. For everyone's safety, you need to get tested right away."

I looked straight at him and said flatly, "I refuse."

The door wasn't fully closed. Two students walking by stopped in the hallway outside.

"What kind of infection?"

"Could it be… that disease?"

"And she won't get tested? Doesn't that mean she's guilty?"

Whispers broke out in the hallway.

Percy's expression darkened. "Calista, think carefully. If you refuse to cooperate, the school will treat it as a serious disciplinary violation."

Madison lowered her head, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed.

I stood by the door as more and more footsteps came to a stop outside.

Everyone was waiting for me to back down.