Part 13 (1/2)

She swallows. He's watching her, those dark eyes staring right at her, waiting for her answer.

Why is he looking at her like that? Does he know-suspect-something?

She glances at her mom, s.h.i.+fts around on the table. She feels like she should say something, he expects her to. ”Well, uh”-she clears her throat-”I've been kind of tired lately. But it's probably just because training is starting to ramp up-”

”Devon does extra practices in the fall with the boys her age at her soccer club,” her mom says. ”In addition to her high school practices. She's that good.”

The doctor nods. ”That's impressive, Devon. But are you more tired than you'd usually be during training, do you think?”

Devon shrugs.

He frowns slightly. ”Anything else out of the ordinary you've noticed?”

Devon looks down at her hands.

”You did have a low-grade fever.” He checks the manila folder. ”One hundred point three.”

Devon says nothing.

”Are you urinating more frequently?”

Devon looks up suddenly. ”Yes,” she says, surprising herself. Then she presses her lips together. Why is she saying anything at all? She was just going to get a quick physical and get out of here.

”How much more frequently? About how many times a day, would you say?”

Devon feels her heart pick up again, feels the palms of her hands grow slick. She wipes them on her jeans. ”Uh, I don't know. Maybe . . . ten? Twelve? I don't know.”

”Hmm,” the doctor says. ”And for about how long have you noticed this going on?”

Devon swallows. This line of questioning makes her uneasy. ”Since just before school started, maybe? So, about three weeks? It's just, like, I have to go after almost every cla.s.s, that's all. But it's not a big deal, really.”

The doctor turns to the manila folder, writes something down. Then he turns back around, watching Devon, thinking. ”What about nausea? You've been feeling like throwing up lately?”

”She threw up this morning,” Devon's mom says.

Devon glares over at her mom.

”But that's only because I ate something bad last night,” Devon says quickly. ”Some tuna, I think. Tuna salad. It's been in the refrigerator a really long time.” Devon feels her eyes dart from the doctor's face to her mom's, then back to the doctor's.

Devon sees the doctor s.h.i.+ft his eyes then, toward Devon's mom.

He looks back at Devon. He's quiet for a moment. Then he says, ”You know, Devon, when young women get to be about your age-fourteen, fifteen, sixteen-they sometimes have personal issues they would like to discuss with their doctors. Questions they'd like to ask, issues they are worried about. And then there are a few personal questions their doctors may have for them.” He smiles then. ”That's sort of where we're at in the exam right now. Some girls like to have this conversation privately with their doctor. Others don't; they prefer to have a parent stay with them. It's totally up to you, Devon. Whatever makes you feel most comfortable.” Then he waits, his dark eyes on Devon's face, his hands still folded neatly in his lap, his legs crossed.

Devon glances at her mom. She doesn't like either option; she'd rather just skip this part and go home. This wouldn't be happening if she'd kept her mouth shut.

”What Dr. Katial means, Devon,” her mom says, ”is I can step out for a minute if you want.” She smiles at the doctor then, plays with her hair. ”You know, we moms . . . We make everything so complicated, don't we?” She winks at him. ”We're so obnoxious.”

The doctor smiles at her. ”Yes,” he says. ”At times, yes.”

”Oh, so you think I'm obnoxious, huh?” Devon's mom's voice is higher, flirty. ”That's not nice, Dr. Katial.” She fake pouts. ”Now you hurt my feelings.”

He gives a little laugh, his face a shade darker. ”In my professional opinion, Ms. Davenport, your feelings will recover.” Then he turns his attention back on Devon.

”I-” Devon looks at the floor, wipes her hands on her jeans again. ”Like, what kinds of questions?”

”More personal questions,” the doctor says steadily.

Devon looks up at him, looks at him straight in the face. She feels anger then, intense hostility. It came on suddenly, inexplicably, just like that. ”I'm not having s.e.x, if that's what you want to know,” she says, her voice shaking. ”And I know all about birth control. I've had s.e.x Ed in school, you know. I'm a soph.o.m.ore . So save the lecture.” She crosses her arms, hugging herself at the waist. ”I don't have a boyfriend anyway-”

”No, she doesn't,” Devon's mom puts in quickly. ”What's the matter with you, Devon? You're being very rude.”

”So, is that it, Doctor?” Devon asks, her body trembling.

”'Cause I'm missing school right now. And I have a geometry test to take.”

Dom is fiddling with her pen. Touching its tip to her yellow legal pad, then its clicker, then the tip again. ”Okay, so then what happened?”

Devon shrugs. ”He just kind of looked at me, said a bunch of stuff to smooth things over. Eventually, he said that he'd like to get a urine sample from me and see me back in about a week if I wasn't feeling better.”

”Did he say why?”

”Because my fever and my throwing up and my peeing so much could all point to me maybe having some kind of infection or something. Urinary tract infection, I think he said. And he also wanted to make sure that nothing was going on with my electrolytes and . . . some other stuff. I forget what they're called-”

”Glucose levels, probably,” Dom says. ”Pretty standard tests.”

”Yeah . . . whatever. Anyway, he said that you can get a lot of information from a person's urine. He said he wanted to rule out anything like diabetes. Stuff like that. I wasn't really listening.”

”Okay, so you gave him that sample.”

”No.”

”No?” Dom leans forward. ”Why not?”

Devon looks down at the tabletop, shrugs. ”I couldn't go.”

”Go?”

”To the bathroom. You know, pee?”

Dom frowns, leans back on her stool, her arms crossed. ”Wait a minute, Devon. A girl who has to pee after every single cla.s.s when she's at school, several times a day, suddenly can't go when her doctor asks her to in a cup?”

”He's not my doctor.” Devon glares at Dom. ”I just needed a sports physical. I never saw him before in my life, okay? And, plus, I'd just thrown up. Remember? I was probably dehydrated from that or something.”

”Uh-huh.” Dom eyes Devon suspiciously. ”So, you're telling me you took the cup, went to the bathroom, sat on the toilet, tried really really really hard, and-darn it all-you just couldn't go. Not even one little drop.”

”Yeah. Exactly.”