Page 103 of Roommate
“Okay,” Kieran’s mother says shakily. “He has a rare blood type.”
“Yes, he does,” the nurse agrees. “We had to ask the Red Cross to transfer some more units. It’s coming, just in case he needs it.”
“I’m B negative,” Kyle says, raising a hand. “Can I donate? My mother is B positive, so she can’t. But maybe my brother can.”
Kieran stiffens beside me, and I feel a chill roll down my spine, because I have a bad feeling about the turn of this conversation. Whether he knows it or not, Kieran is now an “MSM,” or a man who’s had sex with men. It makes you ineligible to donate blood.
Oh shit.
“Well, you can absolutely donate, if you feel like you want to make that contribution,” the nurse says. “We can take both of you right now. And if you’re not the right blood type, another patient will benefit.”
Kyle shoots out of his chair. “Nah, I’m a good match. I wrote a paper about this in bio class. I swear it was my only good grade that year because I thought testing blood was cool.”
Oh Kyle, I think wistfully. Don’t ever change. It’s a shame we’re never going to be in-laws.
“Let’s go, Kieran,” he says.
Everyone watches Kieran give his head a slow shake. “I can’t.”
“Sure you can,” Kyle says. “At least try.”
“I’m O neg!” Audrey says, rising out of her chair, her big pregnant belly leading the way. “I’m a hundred percent match for anyone, so I’ll go.”
“I’m sorry,” the Nurse says, shaking her head. “There are rules against pregnant women giving blood.”
“Oh, geez.” Audrey says. “I’m not allowed to do anything.”
“Thank God,” Griffin says.
“Let’s go, Kieran,” Kyle says. “You’re probably a match.”
He shakes his head, and my heart drops. This could be the most awkward coming out in the history of ever. Don’t do it, I beg, even though I’ve wanted him to do this very thing for months.
“What? Why?” Kyle thunders. “Dad would do it for you.”
“I’m not a match,” Kieran says quietly.
His mother gasps. Her eyes are round and worried.
And now I’m really confused.
Kieran looks up at his mom, seeming to snap out of his trance. “You want me to walk in there and pretend? My blood type is AB. I already know.”
“You can’t be AB,” Kyle argues. “Mom and Dad are both B. That’s impossible.”
And that’s when it finally dawns on me. Kieran isn’t talking about the homophobic regulations at all. One of his parents is not his bio parent. He knows this. But Kyle has no idea.
“Kieran,” his mother sobs. “Wait. How did you…”
“I took that class, too.” At that, he stands up and walks out of the room, while more than a dozen pairs of eyes follow him.
Meanwhile, the nurse has turned as white as her shoes. “My goodness,” is all she says.
“Hey, try me,” Griffin says, rising. “I’m the patient’s nephew.” He puts an arm around a stunned Kyle. “If you want to donate blood, I’ll go with you.”
“But—” Kyle’s eyes are fixed on the doorway where Kieran disappeared.
“You can talk to him later,” Griff says, leading Kyle away before the moment gets any freakier.
