I have it all planned out. I’ll put down one of my bedsheets like a drop sheet for spilled crumbs. I won’t even need to vacuum.
I wish Shayla was here, but it’s her loss, and I sure hope her babysitting money is worth it.
The pizza guy arrives, and I pay him for the pizza, plus two dollars for a tip. The look on his face tells me two dollars is on the cheap side, so I dig around in my pockets and hand over my loose change, which is humiliating for both of us. My guts are killing me with first-day period cramps. I’m sweating so much from pain, the change in my hands is wet, and he makes a face.
After he walks away, I lock the door, throw the pizza on the coffee table, and run up to the main bathroom, which I then murder with an epic poo.
I walk back downstairs, feeling pounds lighter and thinking my problems are over. I open the box and the smell of the double-pepperoni pizza nearly puts me off, but I push myself to take a few bites, thinking I’ll feel better any minute. I’m usually hungry for salty, greasy food when Aunt Flo comes to visit, but I’m strangely disinterested tonight.
I turn on the TV and begin my planned marathon session of re-watching the entire first season of Veronica Mars.
My guts are really killing me by the second episode, and I’m pretty sure it’s punishment for eating pizza in the formal sitting room. My mother has hired a gypsy to put a curse on the room, and now I will pay, in pain.
This idea of a curse gets less funny over the next few hours, as I toss and turn on the sheet-covered sofa, unable to get comfortable. My lower back hurts like someone’s kicking me in the kidneys with pointy boots.
These are the worst period cramps I’ve ever had, and the weirdest part of all is that I haven’t started bleeding yet. I go to the bathroom to check, and my tampon has only watery stuff in it.
My ankles are swollen like crazy, either from the salty pepperoni or my mother’s gypsy curse. All this from eating pizza in the living room. Can you imagine what would have befallen me if I’d touched the dandelion wine? My head would have just split right open.
It’s only ten o’clock, too early for bed, so I lie down on my parents’ big bed, still wearing my clothes. They have a zillion pillows, which I use to make a comfy nest for myself.
I wake up to the sound of myself whimpering. The house is dark and quiet. I’m curled up, and my hands are balled up in fists. I punch the bed a few times, but the sharp pain in my back is relentless. Did I herniate one of my discs today during my epic, naked, interpretive dancing? Fuck me, but it doesn’t seem so hilarious anymore, all the hip wiggling and towel snapping.
Still whimpering, I slide off my parents’ bed and start to crawl toward their en suite bathroom on my hands and knees. Technically, I’m not allowed to use this bathroom, unless it’s an emergency. I’m getting an urge to push, though, so I think it’s an emergency.
The phone rings. I know it’s my parents calling to check up on me. The ring just has that sound, and nobody else would call the land line at this time of night.
The pushing feeling has faded to more of a general ache, and my back feels better now, strangely. Maybe I just needed to get some crawling exercise.
I shuffle to the bedside table and pick up the ringing phone.
My father says, “Peaches? Is that you?”
Oh, right. I forgot to say hello.
“Yessssss,” I say.
“Are you drunk? What the hell’s going on? Are you having a party?”
I groan. “No, Dad. I was just having a nap.”
“Why were you having a nap?”
A sharp pain sends a tremor through my body, and I feel heat between my legs. Moisture. I put my hand on the crotch of my sweatpants. I did not just piss myself, did I? Holy shitfuck how embarrassing.
“Uhh. I think I have, like, a stomach thing.”
“Oh.” He does not sound like he’s buying it.
I shuffle into the en suite bathroom, praying I didn’t get any of the carpet wet.
“What’s really going on?” he asks.
“I have the worst period cramps of f**king all time, if you must know. And I just made a mess, okay? Aren’t you glad you have a daughter? Because I’m sure happy to be a woman on days like today.”
“Did you take a Midol?”
“Dad, I—” The pain in my back returns, and I curl up on my side on the tile floor in the bathroom, panting.
He says, “You should take a Midol before the pain gets really bad. Pain-killers work better if you take them right at the beginning.”
My voice pitches up like a squeak. “Okay.”
“And try taking a hot bath,” he says, repeating what my mother is saying in the background.
“Yup.”
“Peaches?”
I can barely breathe, let alone speak, but I gasp out, “Yes?”
“If there’s ever anything you’re scared to tell me, don’t be scared. I love you, and your mother loves you, and nothing will ever change that. If you promise to always tell us things, we promise to not be angry. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Now, you’re really at home right now? You didn’t have the calls forwarded?”
“Yes, I’m at home.”
“Did you take any drugs tonight?”
“Just Midol.”
“Okay, sweetie. We love you and we miss you already. Do you want a souvenir from Arizona?”
“Nope.” What I do want is to get off the phone so I can try to get some relief on the toilet, or maybe draw a bath, like he suggested.
“Are you sure?”
“No souvenir. Love you! Bye.”
I click the button to end the call, then strip off all my clothes during a pain-free flash. On the toilet, I have a small pee, but nothing else. My vagina seems to be leaking fluid now, so… I guess that’s just another weird puberty thing people don’t talk about. I can’t comprehend all this. It’s too weird.
I start running water into the tub, and then I climb in. I’m not even naked. I still have my socks on, and my bra. This makes me laugh.
I look down at my stomach, and the way the water is over my body, it looks like my body is moving even when it isn’t, with ripples moving across my belly.
I close my eyes.
I sleep.
The phone rings.
Nobody answers it.
I hear a car with a loud stereo drive by outside.
The water drips into the tub rhythmically. Drip, drip, drip. I drift.
I’m awake again.
I will just push and push until I feel better. I’m on my back, one leg hanging over the edge of the tub.