“No. I am absolutely not okay.”
“What’s going on?”
“Paisley got her period.”
A beat passes before the cruel little witch laughs at me.
“This isn’t funny.”
“Kinda. Why are you calling me about it?”
“Because!” I fling my hand out to the rainbow of products in front of me, even though she can’t see it. “My sister got her first period, and I’m at the store and I have no idea what the fuck I’m supposed to buy.”
The last thing I want to or should be doing is buying menstrual products for my fourteen-year-old sister, especially after another grueling day at camp, but when Paisley shuffled into my bedroom in near tears, I was ready to bring the apartment complex down to rubble.
She’d apparently learned about the birds and bees and everything that goes along with it, but without Mom here to guide her through this, she doesn’t know what to do.
I don’t either.
So I’d kissed the top of her head, told her to hang tight, and then I sprinted out to the closest CVS, where I very quickly realized I was out of my depth. Which is when I reached for my cell phone. And the contact for the not-nanny nanny.
Nadine hums. “What does she want to use? Pads or tampons?”
If anyone on my team heard the sound that escapes my throat, they’d never let me touch a football again. “I have no idea.”
She breathes a laugh, amused at my discomfort. But it’s not that I’m disgusted at the biological function; it’s that I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help.
I’ve been staring at the wings and no wings, light or super, cardboard or plastic, organic and non-organic options for what feels like an hour.
“Why don’t you buy her one package of pads and one box of regular tampons? Can you do that?” Nadine suggests, as if she’s speaking to a toddler.
“Yeah. I think so.”
“Okay, you do that, and I’ll be over as soon as I can.”
I blow out a relieved breath. “You sure?”
“Yeah. I’m getting my keys now. See you in half an hour. Just stay calm.”
Stay calm?
Yeah, sure, okay. I’ll stay fucking calm.
I pluck one box of everything off the shelf, every type of pad, tampon, and panty liner available, and then head directly to the candy aisle, throwing in a few bags of chocolates and gummy candy. Then because I hate feeling useless, I add a pair of socks, a few face masks, and aGet Well Sooncard.
By the time I make it home, Nadine is pulling into the parking garage at the same time. Once again, she laughs when she spies me and the five bags.
Only she would laugh at a time like this.
“What did you buy?” she asks, casually walking toward mein an oversized T-shirt that readsFirst of all, I’m a delightwith a snarling raccoon on it—appropriate—and itty-bitty shorts, some of her hair wrapped up into a bun on the top of her head, flip-flops on. I wonder if she was in the middle of getting ready for bed and darted out of her brother’s house.
I don’t know why I like that possibility.
I hold up the loot. “Is it enough?”
“Yeah.” She smothers a grin, closing the distance between us. “It’s enough.”
She follows me into the elevator up to the top floor, silence stretched thin between us, and I know I should thank her, tell her that I know she didn’t have to show up, but I’m so glad she did. Except when she angles her head my way, lips pursed, as if waiting for me to speak, I can’t. I don’t want to say the wrong thing.
