Michelle Madow - Diamonds in the Rough

She mixed her blood into the designated spots on the card and waited a minute for the results. Once it was ready, she picked it up and studied it.

“This can’t be right,” she said, mixing the blood some more. But the results didn’t change.

“What do you mean?” Oliver glanced at her card. “It looks like you’re AB positive. That’s one of the rarest ones, right?”

“Mrs. Amy?” Madison raised her hand. “I need another card. There’s something wrong with mine.”

“Are you sure?” Mrs. Amy walked over from where she was helping another student, her eyebrows knitting in confusion. She picked up Madison’s card and examined it. “This looks fine to me.”

“It’s not.” Madison pushed back her shoulders and looked at her straight on. “May I please have another card? Just to double-check my results.”

Mrs. Amy bit her lip like she was about to say no, but she must have seen the determination in Madison’s eyes, because instead she said, “There are a few extras on my desk.”

“Thank you.” Madison rushed to the desk, picked up another card, and brought it back to the lab table. She squeezed the tiny puncture on her index finger, glad when fresh blood popped up.

“Are you sure there was something wrong with yours?” Oliver sat on the table, watching as she redid the experiment. “I’ve never seen you mess up on a lab before.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Madison explained, mixing up the blood on the new card. “My first card was just faulty.” She set it down and waited a minute for her real result.

But it was the same as before—AB positive.

She set her hands down on the table and glared at the card. They’d been studying blood types for a week, and she fully understood the unit. These results were impossible. She must be doing something wrong.

Mrs. Amy walked over to Madison’s lab table. “Is everything okay?”

“I don’t think I’m doing the lab correctly.” Madison’s cheeks flushed, and she could barely bring herself to meet her teacher’s eyes.

“Let me take a look.” Mrs. Amy picked up both blood type cards and examined them. Madison’s heart pounded while she waited for her opinion, and she drummed her fingers on the table. “Nothing’s wrong with your results,” she said. “You did the lab perfectly, as always.”

Madison’s lungs squeezed so tightly that she could barely get any air. Normally, she expected her teachers to praise her in science class. But those results couldn’t be accurate.

Everyone in the class was staring at her. Not wanting to cause a scene, she swallowed and forced herself to take a few steady breaths. “Thanks,” she somehow managed to reply. Luckily, another student raised a hand and asked Mrs. Amy a question, which moved the attention away from Madison.

“Is everything okay?” Oliver asked once Mrs. Amy had walked away.

“I’m not sure.” Madison’s hand trembled as she picked up the card and stared at it blankly. “But I think I’m going to have to cancel on our plans tonight.”

* * *

Madison’s parents were working at the hospital and wouldn’t be back until later that night, so she watched movies by herself as she waited. She had what she called the Trifecta of Movies to Watch When in a Bad Mood—Pride and Prejudice, Titanic and Moulin Rouge. Whenever she watched those three movies, she forgot about her life and focused on the lives of the characters, drawn into their worlds and problems.

Her friends had texted to ask why she wasn’t coming out, but they’d stopped bothering her once she told them she wasn’t feeling well. Which was the truth, because her head had been pounding ever since she’d done the genetics lab. And when she’d gotten back home to the condo in the Diamond Residences—although sometimes it still felt strange to think of the three-bedroom penthouse as home, since they’d moved there a few months ago—she’d done something she’d resisted for months and ordered Dominos pizza. Sure, the condo had a room-service menu full of food from the five-star restaurants in the Diamond, but Madison loved Dominos.

After devouring the entire large by herself, she’d crawled into a baggy sweatshirt so that she wouldn’t have to be disgusted by her bloated stomach rolling over her jeans. She would have to go on a fruit-and-veggie cleanse for the next two days to remove all that grease and fat from her body.

She’d finished watching Pride and Prejudice and was halfway through Titanic when her parents walked through the door, still dressed in their scrubs. They worked at the same hospital—her dad as the head of neurology and her mom as an anesthesiologist—and got similar schedules when they could. They were chatting as they walked inside but quieted when they saw Madison slouched on the couch with a movie on and an empty pizza box on the coffee table. She paused the movie, the food swirling inside her stomach as she thought how to begin the conversation she had to have with them. She felt so nauseated that she worried she might throw up—which, after how much she’d eaten, wouldn’t be a bad thing.

“Madison,” her mom said, placing her purse on the kitchen counter. “What are you doing home on a Friday night? Don’t you have plans with your friends?”

“I canceled.” Madison kept her voice steady. “I wasn’t in the mood to go out.”

“Are you sick?” Her dad’s forehead creased in concern, which was understandable—Madison hadn’t voluntarily stayed home on a weekend night since middle school.

“No,” she said. “But I need to talk with both of you.”

“Oh.” Her mom pulled her long, dark braid over her shoulder and shared a worried look with her dad. “Okay.”

They both seemed confused as they sat down in the living room, her mom on the armchair and her dad on the other end of the couch. Madison’s head pounded harder as she looked at them, and she massaged the back of her neck in a failed attempt to relieve the tension.

“We did blood typing in genetics today.” She took the card out of her pocket—once it had dried, she’d laminated it to take home—and tossed it onto the coffee table. “This was my result.”

Panic flashed in both of their eyes, and neither of them looked at her as her mom picked up the card.

“AB positive.” Her mom’s voice shook, and she tugged on the end of her braid.

“But those results are impossible.” Despite the tightening in her throat, Madison tried to remain calm. She’d learned early on that whenever someone raised their voice, they weren’t perceived as rational and were less likely to get the results or answers they desired. Right now she needed answers. “I remember watching TV a few years ago and Dad mentioning he was the universal donor, O negative. But it’s impossible for a child to have AB when one parent is O. The only scientifically possible blood types I could have are O, A or B, depending on Mom’s, of course. I did the test twice, because I figured I got a faulty card the first time, but it was the same both times. AB positive.”

She watched her parents closely, waiting for an explanation. But her dad twiddled his thumbs and refused to meet her eyes, and her mom twirled her braid, her face pale. Madison’s stomach flipped, and she had to swallow down the pizza that was slowly rising up her throat.

Her dad finally looked up at her, his kind brown eyes shining with guilt. “I wish you hadn’t found out this way.”

“Found out what?” Her voice cracked. She couldn’t say what she was thinking out loud—she had to hear it from her parents.

“Madison,” her dad said slowly, curling his hands into fists. “You know that, no matter what, I am your father, and I love you very much and nothing will ever change that, right?”