The Virgin

Chapter Seventeen - My First, My Last, My Everything

My mom used to tell me about this kids' show she grew up watching called Chippy the Clown. She would tell me how funny it was when another character on the show would throw a pie at Chippy the Clown's face. I remember feeling the humiliation of this sad clown as she would talk about him taking the blow, week after week. But I also remember her describing how he always took a big lick of the whipped cream off his face before wandering offstage with his tail between his legs. There is always a bit of sweetness to taste in the bitterness of life, and I'm trying to do that right now. I'm trying to find the sweet taste that should come along with the gut-wrenching feeling of humiliation I'm experiencing as I stand in the doorway of Mr. Rodriguez's recovery room and watch Grace undulate on top of Bodhi behind the empty bed. I'm searching for the whipped cream, but it's not there. All I taste is acid reflux, a little curry from my food binge yesterday, and a lot of heartbreak. I am tasting what it's like to have your heart broken into a million little pieces, while actively trying not to throw up all over the floor on which the woman I hate and the man I love are having sex.

As I back out of the room, my ears begin to ring. I think I'm going to pass out.

"Bodhi. Oh, Bodhi. Sweetie," I hear Grace saying over and over again.

Good God, she called him sweetie. How long has this been going on? Three weeks, I guess, answering my own stupid question. How could I be so stupid? How could I forget that Grace wanted him and so she, of course, got him. His interest in me is clearly the kind of interest you have in seeing the Bearded Lady at the carnival. I'm a freak of nature and he is "interested" the way a scientist is interested in an experiment gone wrong.

Suddenly, the ringing stops and I hear Grace say my name. I focus in and see her staring at me, still straddling Bodhi, who is obviously just enjoying the ride.

"Kate," Grace says, a look of disbelief on her face. "Bodhi and I were . . . and . . . I'm sorry, I didn't mean to . . . "

She didn't mean to what? Have sex with the man I've fallen in love with?

I bolt. I run down the hallway as fast as my high heels can take me without falling on my face. I see the supply closet. I duck into it and run into an orderly loading up a box with bed blankets.

"Get out!" I yell at him.

He drops the blankets and hurries out. I'd feel bad if he hadn't been the same orderly that made kissy noises at me behind my back. I shut the door behind him and slide down it. My heart hurts. Everything in my body is vibrating. No, it's shaking. I'm shaking uncontrollably and feeling like I'm going to vomit. Why does it feel like my entire being is being ripped from my body and being used as a punching bag for the universe right now? This is how love feels? I hate love. Fuck this!

"Stupid, stupid, girl," I hear my voice saying out loud to me. And I'm right. I'm an idiot to have thought he loved me back. I'm naïve and dumb. Grow up, Kate. Life doesn't work like that. Not for you anyhow. How many times do I have to humiliate myself to realize that this being vulnerable thing is nothing but a joke, and the joke is on me? I must have the word "sucker" imprinted across my forehead, because I keep getting punched.

My phone pages me. I take a deep breath and check it. It's Mr. Rodriguez. He's hemorrhaging.

I run as fast as I can to the O.R. Javier, Mark, Sandy, and Grace are already scrubbing in. I quickly strip out of my clothes and put on the scrubs Mark is holding out for me. I begin scrubbing in as I look through the window and see Mr. Rodriguez lying on the gurney. Damn it, what did I miss?

"Where's Bodhi?" I ask Grace. But she doesn't answer me. Instead she hurries into the O.R. I look at Mark. Mark shrugs. I look at Javier.

"Where the hell is Dr. Wells?" I yell.