FRIDA' S LIST

Chapter 12 NEED CONDOMS

On Friday morning, I decided to ditch class. History, Spanish, physics, and gym, I skipped all of that.

I called Anthony twice, but he didn't answer. Then, I texted him. It took me a long time to find these few lousy words:

"Hi Anthony, it's Frida! Hope you're okay. I have something to tell you. It's very important. So please, call me back ASAP."

Half an hour later, he called me back. When I saw his name popped up on my phone, my heart jumped like to say: I'm awake.

"Hello," I said, clearing my throat.

"Hi, it's me. Tony."

"Hi," I said.

"Is everything okay?" he said with this soft voice that charmed me.

"Yeah, or...not exactly. I have to see you, please. I've got some stuff I wanna talk to you about," I began.

Be cryptic, be cryptic.

"Look, Frida. I don't know_" he began.

I switched ears.

"Please," I said, interrupting him. "I can't discuss it over the phone. It's an emergency. You're the only person capable of helping me out on this! So, can you just stop by my place, please? It'll take just a few minutes...I guess."

I didn't lie. It was a kind of emergency. I was probably the last ONE of my species, and he was the only person able to help me out.

"Okay, when?" he said.

"Are you available like... right now?"

"Give me an hour."

"Okay. Thanks. See you_" I replied, trying to control my voice.

He hung up. I didn't give him my address, but I assumed that he remembered it. And now what?

I paced my room. My fingertips were getting cold like death. I was about to live something unprecedented in the history of my whole life. And I was gonna rot in hell.

You need condoms! I thought to myself. You're such an idiot.

As I had thrown away the condom of the prevention class (to calm down my mother, THANKS, MOM!), I had to buy a new one.

I went to the store next to my house. I looked for the section where the condoms were located. They were just next to the shampoos. At last, it meant that it wasn't a big of a deal to buy condoms. It was just like buying shampoo, right? So, why was I SO ashamed to buy condoms?

Maybe it's because I have hair, but I don't have ANY penis, my mind snapped back at itself.

God! There were much more brands of condoms on the market than shampoo! How could I pick one? I looked at a tiny pink box. This one seemed cute. I had this weird feeling as if the whole universe were watching me. I looked around; a guy was staring at me.

"It's for my brother," I said.

He smiled at me, and left with a tube of shampoo!

God! I have to pick just one lousy box. After checking carefully that no-one was watching me, I tried to grab one, but I dropped the box when a woman stood up behind me. I hadn't heard her coming. She was wearing a yellow jacket with a plastic badge saying: "Ask: Martha Pichain, here to give you a hand."

"May I help you, Miss?" she asked softly.

"Sure," I mumbled.

I kept watching her old badge. Her name was handwritten. She had a box next to her. She began to unpack her items. She was supposed to put condoms on the shelve.