conscious, outdoorsy type—eating granola, doing hours on the Nordic Trak, and going on long walks. At least pulling my hair out of my mouth kept me somewhat distracted from the horror of the whole experience. I hadn’t been thinking when I’d left home, or I would have grabbed a scrunchie. We finally pulled into the lot and Dad asked if he should go in with me.
“No, thanks. I do need some money though.”
“Oh, right.” Dad pulled out a five.
“Um, I need at least twenty,” I informed him.
“Really?” His eyes bugged a little behind his glasses.
“Yeah.”
With a sigh, he pulled a fifty out of his wallet.
I snatched it before he could reconsider. Then I opened the door and climbed out.
As I walked to the door, I combed my hair out of my face and attempted to tame it.
The thing is that normally I’m a really fast shopper. I mean if I’m getting a few things for Mom at the grocery, I’m like lightning. But I so did not want anyone to see me walking around the store on a Friday night, alone, with a cart full of feminine hygiene products. I was moving at double speed.
I grabbed a shirt as I passed the women’s section. The store wasn’t crowded since it was almost closing time, but I didn’t want to risk total exposure. Then I loaded in the jumbo box of tampons and maxipads. No use coming back next month. I threw in a jumbo-sized Advil and a bag of M&M’s. Gotta have chocolate. The shirt nicely covered everything until I got to the front of the store.
This was where the whole Mission Grab the Tampons and Get Out thing went all to hell. Only one lane was open, and it was manned by a guy. A young guy. Like high school. I looked up at the ceiling. Hadn’t I been going to church every day since like birth? Where was my reward? Was it too much to ask for a woman to handle my tampons?
Dad was outside waiting, and I had to have them. I had no choice. I had to brazen it out. So I pushed the cart up to the lane and handed the guy the shirt. “I changed my mind about the shirt,” I said.
“Okay,” he said and stuck it in the mind-changing bin.
Then I unloaded all my menstrual supplies, trained my gaze on the window, and held out the fifty.
I heard him gulp. Don’t blush. Don’t freak. He does this all the time. He doesn’t know me anyway. He’s probably even in college or something.
After what seemed like hours, he said, “That will be twenty nine forty seven.”
He took the fifty and stuck the change in my hand. Then he loaded it all into a bag which I snatched up.
“Thanks,” I mumbled. Because I did have manners after all.
I cruised through the automatic doors and ran to the car. Mom was going to call me any minute, and I was so going to let her have it.
I handed Dad the wad of change. He hated when I did that, but he didn’t say a word this time. He just grumbled something about thirty dollars and pulled away from the curb.
Back at Dad’s, I popped in to tell Caroline I was hitting the sack since I had cramps. She blinked like she had no idea what I was talking about. Did she not have cramps either?
I didn’t end up yelling at my mother. She sounded exhausted by the time she called. She’d been flying all day.
“So,” I said, putting my Meg Cabot book down on my bed. I was reading the 1-800-Where-R-You series for the second time. “Is it going okay with Donald so far?”
“Yes, Sweetie. Don’t you worry.” Then she told me all about the view from her apartment over the garage.
As if I believed she was really living over the garage. Puh-lease.
“Have you decided about going out for soccer yet?”
“I signed up.” I didn’t like looking like an idiot, and I wasn’t sure I could do it. Even on the Junior Varsity of a small parochial school league. I rolled over on my back on my bed.
“I think it will be good for you, Ally. Really, what do you have to lose?”
My pride. My dignity. A few brain cells if I took a header the wrong way.
When Diane got
“No, thanks. I do need some money though.”
“Oh, right.” Dad pulled out a five.
“Um, I need at least twenty,” I informed him.
“Really?” His eyes bugged a little behind his glasses.
“Yeah.”
With a sigh, he pulled a fifty out of his wallet.
I snatched it before he could reconsider. Then I opened the door and climbed out.
As I walked to the door, I combed my hair out of my face and attempted to tame it.
The thing is that normally I’m a really fast shopper. I mean if I’m getting a few things for Mom at the grocery, I’m like lightning. But I so did not want anyone to see me walking around the store on a Friday night, alone, with a cart full of feminine hygiene products. I was moving at double speed.
I grabbed a shirt as I passed the women’s section. The store wasn’t crowded since it was almost closing time, but I didn’t want to risk total exposure. Then I loaded in the jumbo box of tampons and maxipads. No use coming back next month. I threw in a jumbo-sized Advil and a bag of M&M’s. Gotta have chocolate. The shirt nicely covered everything until I got to the front of the store.
This was where the whole Mission Grab the Tampons and Get Out thing went all to hell. Only one lane was open, and it was manned by a guy. A young guy. Like high school. I looked up at the ceiling. Hadn’t I been going to church every day since like birth? Where was my reward? Was it too much to ask for a woman to handle my tampons?
Dad was outside waiting, and I had to have them. I had no choice. I had to brazen it out. So I pushed the cart up to the lane and handed the guy the shirt. “I changed my mind about the shirt,” I said.
“Okay,” he said and stuck it in the mind-changing bin.
Then I unloaded all my menstrual supplies, trained my gaze on the window, and held out the fifty.
I heard him gulp. Don’t blush. Don’t freak. He does this all the time. He doesn’t know me anyway. He’s probably even in college or something.
After what seemed like hours, he said, “That will be twenty nine forty seven.”
He took the fifty and stuck the change in my hand. Then he loaded it all into a bag which I snatched up.
“Thanks,” I mumbled. Because I did have manners after all.
I cruised through the automatic doors and ran to the car. Mom was going to call me any minute, and I was so going to let her have it.
I handed Dad the wad of change. He hated when I did that, but he didn’t say a word this time. He just grumbled something about thirty dollars and pulled away from the curb.
Back at Dad’s, I popped in to tell Caroline I was hitting the sack since I had cramps. She blinked like she had no idea what I was talking about. Did she not have cramps either?
I didn’t end up yelling at my mother. She sounded exhausted by the time she called. She’d been flying all day.
“So,” I said, putting my Meg Cabot book down on my bed. I was reading the 1-800-Where-R-You series for the second time. “Is it going okay with Donald so far?”
“Yes, Sweetie. Don’t you worry.” Then she told me all about the view from her apartment over the garage.
As if I believed she was really living over the garage. Puh-lease.
“Have you decided about going out for soccer yet?”
“I signed up.” I didn’t like looking like an idiot, and I wasn’t sure I could do it. Even on the Junior Varsity of a small parochial school league. I rolled over on my back on my bed.
“I think it will be good for you, Ally. Really, what do you have to lose?”
My pride. My dignity. A few brain cells if I took a header the wrong way.
When Diane got
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