Chapter 1

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I got an IUD as an emergency contraceptive after having unprotected sex for the first time in my life.

I paced up and down Comm Ave a few times because

I was early to my appointment

There were signs lined up outside Planned Parenthood warning me of the evils of abortion and birth control.

Apparently women are supposed to keep their children if they've been raped. Also, did you know that abortion is the number one killer of black people? #blacklivesmatter

Two men in highlighter pink safety vests stood outside the door as the conservative protesters hugged and greeted each other. At first I wanted to show everyone how mean my right hook was.

I had walked past the Bible Thumpers before on multiple occasions while on my way to pick up groceries from StartMarket and get some supplies from the dollar store. They were on the way to the Green Line between Babcock St and Packard's Corner where I used to hitch a ride home towards Boston College. Their hobbies include singing hymns, making poorly made propaganda signs, and annoying every far-left liberal Bostonian with their mere existence.

After getting some coconut water and a peppermint patty from StarMarket as well as two shades of nail polish from the dollar store, I finally walked past them.

"I have an appointment at 10:20."

The two pink-clad security guards checked me in. The waiting room was locked behind another wall and a metal detector. I don't remember any windows. I think they were frosted so no one could see inside. Everything was very prisonlike, grey and concrete.

"Do you have any of these Covid symptoms?" the man at the desk asked me. It's hard to remember any faces since everyone was masked up. All of the security were older white men with greying hair.

I did not. I had met the guy on Hinge the day before my final Pfizer vaccine. I had made a profile to entertain myself while I was stuck inside with post-vaccine aches and sleepiness.

"Do you have any guns or weapons inside your backpack? Something you can stab with?"

What the fuck? "I might have a paperclip."

He informed me he needed to look inside my bag and I needed to take off my big bluetooth headphones before going through the metal detector. The other security guard asked if there was any metal in my pockets.

"My glasses? A zipper? I don't know." I had black workout leggings with no pockets and a tight pink zip-up my little sister gave me for running with little room for anything.

The other guard by the detector told me very patiently, "If something goes off, we'll figure it out. Just walk through."

I was clean. He passed back my green school backpack that I would use to store groceries before biking or walking home and walked behind the wall, through the door, into a big white doctor's office waiting room.

While I filled out paperwork, I marked my pronouns as she/they for the first time. I went with "queer" as my sexual orientation since no one would believe an asexual would go to Planned Parenthood for emergency contraception.

White/Caucasion, 27, 5ft 4, 145 Ibs

"You need to mark someone as an emergency contact," I heard the lady in the next booth over inform another girl. "It doesn't have to be family, it can just be a friend."

I had already given them my little sister's name. My mom wanted me off the pill immediately after I had tried it the year before. She was sure it would mess with my fertility.

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