“Are you sure you really even need this conversation? Isn’t there going to be a class for this?”
“Dad, that’s too far away. I need to know about this now.”
“Why? What’s your rush? Most kids don’t even know about ‘the talk’. Wait, how do you even know about it? Who do you hang out with at school? What are your friends saying? It’s wrong! You’re WAY too young!”
She sat across from him with her face appearing as a contortionist, twisted and gnarled with crystal clear confusion.
“Dad, this is something I’m dealing with now. All the girls are.”
He sat across from her, now it was his turn for his face to disappear behind a fatherly masquerade of enormous distaste and distrust. He was too shocked to give a fully reasonable response. For several silent moments, his face remained hidden behind this look of betrayal.
“Dad?”
“All…ALL THE GIRLS ARE DOING THIS?”
She scooted away from him, her eyebrows furrowing in further confusion and her mouth setting in an uneasy downward arc. The tension was growing more obese by the fraction of a second, but she didn’t understand how to make it shrink.
“It’s not really a choi-“
“NOT REALLY A CHOICE, WHY? WHAT ARE THE BOYS DOING? PRESSURING?”
“Dad, don’t blame boys for this, they don’t have anything to do-“
“I’LL SHOW YOU WHAT BLAME THEY’RE GOING TO GET FOR THIS! YOU GO TO YOUR ROOM!”
He had already left his seat across from her, his eyebrows smashed together to create the widest canyons across his face, stress sweat creating rivers streaming in and out of the wrinkles, his mouth never closing as he continued to yell threats and curses while slamming the phone to his ear.
She quickly obeyed and left her seat across a now empty couch. Her face completely indescribable: terrified, shocked, regretful, confused.
“YES I NEED TO SPEAK TO THE PRINCIPAL, THE GUIDANCE COUNSELOR, AND ALL THE PARENTS OF EVERY SINGLE BOY IN THE SCHOOL!”
I don’t know why he’s freaking out so much, it’s not the boys fault I got my period.