15. Haven

So, early Friday morning, Wick had me meet him at the student health center for my checkup. It felt wrong that I had to even do this; I’d always taken safe sex seriously. Why had I been stupid enough to think the only boyfriend I’d ever had would feel the same way? Now, here I was, paying for my own naïve gullibility.

The wind seemed to think it personally needed to slap me across the face for my idiocy too. It whipped my hair out of place, obstructing my view and clogging my mouth so I was still scrambling to hand-brush it back into place and hold on to my backpack that I had hooked over one shoulder as I pushed through the front door.

Disheveled mess that I was, however, I was apparently at least a quiet one. No one heard me enter.

One woman sat out in the waiting area, flipping through a magazine. A receptionist sat behind a tall counter. And Wick Webster stood leaning against the same counter at the far end where he chatted with a young nurse who bustled around on the other side