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Fourteen
Magnolia
I didn’t notice for the longest time.
I’d never been one of those girls with a spectacularly regular cycle, so if a month came and went without me getting my period, that was fine. When a second month came and went without me getting it, it still wasn’t completely unheard of… Around that time Bushka had bypass surgery, so life at home was swirly and I didn’t even really have time to notice as my mother managed to make her mother having surgery into a big theatrical experience we all had our parts to play in. There were a lot of dinners, flowers, an interview in Marie Claire that required a photoshoot with the entire family as well as a public appearance at a museum (for why?), and I remember being in the museum bathroom, using the loo, and thinking, should I have my period? But then my mother accidentally set a curtain on fire and we were all evacuated and I forgot to follow up.
So then another month went by and then I realised: still nothing.
It was a Sunday night when I caught it.
Beej and I were going to go get a late dinner at Circus and then I was going to stay at his house to drive up to school the next day, but as I was putting mascara on in my bathroom, my eyes caught on a box of unopened tampons that I realised I hadn’t had to use now for months, and I froze.
I did the math in my head, pointlessly, because I knew I was late beyond late beyond late.
I remember thinking that probably I wasn’t. I remember hoping I was just malnourished. A weird thing to hope, but I could have been. It’d happened before.
And I remember rationalising that’s what it was, probably. Because it’d been fashion week recently, I’d walked a couple of big shows — I went full Miso for a little bit — it felt likely, actually, that that’s what it was.
But there was a nag. So I threw on a coat over the pyjamas I’d been in all day, pulled on my black Hunters, and bolted to my car. Into the pharmacy, bought two of each brand of tests, bought them with sunglasses on — just to be safe, because you never know. I ran back to my car and called Beej on my way home.
“Hey,” he said on the second ring. “Just about to leave mine to come grab you, you ready?”
“Uh—” I stuttered. “No.”
I don’t know why I called him, I didn’t want to tell him over the phone. I didn’t want to tell him before I knew anything either.
I called him by default. If I was ever worried about anything, I’d just — it was an absentminded call.
“I can’t come tonight,” I found myself saying suddenly.
“Oh?” he said, surprised. “You okay?”
“Mmhm!” I lied. “Mars is on the war path after that C+ I got in Mandarin.”
“Oh. Should I come over then?” he asked brightly. “I’ll climb through the window.”
“No!” I said, a bit urgent.
I could hear him frown. “Okay?”
“No — just. No, because. I’ve been vomiting as well.” Which was true. I had. In the morning. Once that day and once three days before. But sometimes I did that anyway, and then my stomach could be funny with foods.
“Are you sure you’re okay? Want me to bring you something?”
“I’m fine. Completely!” I added enthusiastically to do my best to release him. I cleared my throat. “You go out! Go with Paili and Jo. Have fun. I’m fine, I promise.”
“Okay…” he said, unsure. “I’ll call you later.”
“Okay!” I hung up without saying love you or bye, which was weird of me and I knew he was bound to notice that, but I was holding myself together by a thread.
I burst through my front door as Mars and my sister were coming out of the kitchen.
“Are you okay?” Marsaili asked, looking at me, eyes discerning.
“Fine!” I nodded, giving her a tight-lipped smile.
She squinted at me in suspicious disbelief.
