My friend Victoria’s mom is kind of sick in the head.
I have known the two of them for a long time, as we are neighbors on the same floor. I’ve been hanging out with Victoria since I was a kid, and while no one knew, we were supposedly dating each other, then breaking up, then learning how to kiss and going on dates. So our story stretches back to the age of twelve. No one cared that we were so close until, at sixteen, Victoria told my mother that she and I were together.
Sarah called me in for a serious talk about it. Without Victoria. She started saying that I was a good boy and she trusted me, but she wanted me to have a physical exam and get tested so she knew that I was completely healthy. At first I thought she suspected me of taking some kind of substance or STD, but she demanded a full exam. She wanted a report from both a neurologist and a dentist.
I didn’t tell my parents anything, but I did show Victoria’s mother my medical records. She studied it for a couple of days and then told her daughter to leave me immediately. Because of my flat feet and slightly enlarged liver.
Victoria didn’t want to break up with me, but she asked me to pretend to my mom as if we weren’t together.
It’s idiotic. We’re either together or we’re not. And what does it even matter what’s wrong with my health? I’m only seventeen. A lot of things can pass, a lot of things can happen. I don’t know what she was testing me for.
Maybe someone else can tell me.
Sarah herself is not a doctor by profession, she is a seamstress, she raises Victoria alone, lives almost like two shut-ins. So she should be happy that Victoria is still friends and dating, not spoiling our relationship.
