Just as Long as We're Together (19 page)

"I can't believe this!" I said to Peter, who was standing with his hands in his pockets.

"He planned the whole thing," Peter said, "and it worked." He looked at me. "So.. . you want to dance?"

"Sure."

"Okay. . . there's just one problem."

"What's that?" I asked.

"I don't know how," he said.

"I'll teach you." A slow song was playing. "Put your arrn~ around my waist," I told him.

"I know that part," Peter said. "The part I don't know is what to do with my feet."

"Try this," I said. "Forward, to the side, together . . . backward, to the side, together." I kind of dragged Peter around with me.

Peter kept repeating, "Forward, to the side, together . . . backward, to the side, together." And soon he said, "Hey, we're dancing." Sometimes we stepped on each other's feet, but so what? We danced for six numbers, fast and slow, before Peter said, "I drank a lot of punch. I've got 'to go. . ."

"Me too."

"Meet you back here in five minutes or less," he said, pushing the timer on his stop watch.

I headed for the girls' room mainly because my pantyhose were falling down. Probably I'd bought the wrong size. I'd had trouble figuring out the height and weight chart printed on the back of the package. Two other girls were in

there. One of them, Emily Giordano, I know from my math class. She was putting on lip gloss. We greeted each other, then I went into a booth.

When I pulled down my pants I saw a reddish-brown stain inside. What's this? I thought. Could it be? No. . . probably not. But if it's not, then what is it? By the time I flushed the toilet I knew for sure because there were a few drops of menstrual blood in there. Imagine that. . . my period on my thirteenth birthday! I had to think fast. "Emily . . ." I called. "Are you still out there?"

"Yes."

"Could you pass me some paper towels?"

"What for?" Emily asked.

"I've got my period," I said, trying it out. It sounded so grown-up!

"Don't you want a pad?"

"I don't have any money with me.. . do you?"

"No, but I could go ask somebody."

"That's okay," I said. "Just pass me the paper towels."

"Here . . ." she said, shoving a whole stack under the door.

"Thanks." I stuck half a dozen of them inside my pants but they felt .hard and rough against me. Still, they were better than nothing. I couldn't wait to tell Alison what had happened! But when I got back to the gym she was dancing with Eric

Macaulay and Peter was waiting for me at the refreshment table. "I thought you fell in," he said, checking his watch. "You were gone nine minutes, seventeen seconds."

We started dancing again but I couldn't help thinking: Suppose the paper towels aren't enough? Suppose it gets on my skirt and Peter says, What's that. . . your period?

"You're not doing forward, to the side, together the way you were before," Peter Said.

"Oh, sorry . . ." How could I concentrate on dancing at a time like this? I tried to get Alison's attention. I beckoned to her but she thought I was waving and she waved back. She and Eric never stopped dancing. Finally I broke away from Peter and said, "I just remembered . . . I've got to tell Mrs. Remo something."

"Now?"

"Yes."

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" Peter asked.

"No. . . this has nothing to do with you."

"Okay." He pushed the button on his watch again. "You've got five minutes. . . starting now!"

I went over to Mrs. Remo and asked if I could talk to her in private. She put her arm around me. "Are the boys giving you a hard time?" she asked.

"No." I wondered why she thought that. "It's my. . ." Then for some reason I started to laugh.

"What?" Mrs. Remo asked.

"I just got my period and I don't have any;. ." I couldn't stop laughing.

"Is this your first time?"

I nodded because I was laughing too hard to speak.

"Let's see what we can do." Mrs. Remo went to the girls' room with me, deposited the right coins in the machine on the wall and handed me a pad. "Just peel off the bottom and stick it to your panties," she whispered. "I'll wait here.

just in case."

I tried to stop laughing. I'm .not the type to get giggling fits, like Alison. I attached the pad to my pants, pulled everything up again and came out of the booth just as AlisOn burst into the girls' room. "Are you okay?" she asked. "Peter said something's going on."

"I'm fine," I told her. "I just got my period."

"Oh, Steph. . "Alison hugged me. "That's so exciting! And on your birthday, too."

"It's your birthday?" Mrs. Remo asked.

"Yes. I'm thirteen today."

Mrs. Remo also gave me a hug, which was kind of embarrassing. "Happy Birthday, Stephanie!"

Peter and Eric were waiting for Alison and me. "That was twelve minutes, four seconds," Peter said. I wished he hadn't gotten a stop watch for Christmas.

Mrs. Remo went to the microphone and tapped it. "Attention everyone . . ." she said, "I want to make an announcement. I just found out something special about Stephanie Hirsch."

Oh, no! I thought. She's going to announce my period to the entire seventh grade. This was worse than the dream I'd had about the dance, where I was naked and Mrs. Remo had to cover me with her coat. I felt my face turn hot. I felt dizzy. I'm going to pass out, I thought. I reached for Peter's arm to steady myself, which he took to mean I wanted to hold hands.

Mrs. Remo began to speak. "Today. . ."

"No!" 1 called in a weak voice, hoping to stop Mrs. Remo. But Peter thought no meant I didn't want to hold hands and he quickly moved a step away from me.

"Today is Stephanie's thirteenth birthday," Mrs. Remo said. "Let's all wish her a very happy one." The whole class began to sing and my dizzy spell passed. I glanced over at Rachel, who was standing close to Max Wilson. She wasn't singing. Our eyes met for a minute before she turned away. I remembered my promise, that she and Alison would be the first to know when I got my period. But promises to someone who isn't your friend anymore don't count.

During the last half hour of the dance Rachel and Max were wrapped together, barely moving

in time to the music. Her head was buried in his neck and his eyes were half-closed. They were definitely the most intense couple at the dance.

When the music ended there was a dash for the coat room. As soon as we found our coats Peter and I went outside. It was a cold, clear night and Peter pointed toward the sky. "Look

there's Orion."

When I looked up he kissed me. "Happy Birthday, Steph."

I was so surprised I couldn't think of a thing to say.

"I never did that before," he confessed.

"Neither did I."

"Let's do it again," he said.

"Okay." This time I was careful to keep my lips closed. I wasn't taking any chances that our braces would get stuck together. I didn't get the same kind of tingles from kissing Peter as I do from standing close to Jeremy Dragon or pretending that Benjamin Moore is my boyfriend, but kissing him felt warm and friendly.

Peter left as soon as he spotted his mother's car. I stood alone for a minute, thinking about everything that had happened to me tonight.

"Oh, there you are," Alison said. "I had the best time! Eric kissed me good night."

"Peter kissed me, too."

"Eric kissed me twice."

"Same here."

"Do you think they planned it?" Alison asked. "Did he tell you to look up at Orion?"

"Yes," she said.

"Then they planned it."

"So.. . who cares?" we said. at the same time. And then we laughed.

Mom couldn't believe I got my period. She was more excited than I was. "Come on, Mom. . ." I said, "it happens to every girl sooner or later."

"I know," she said, sitting on my bed after the dance, "but it's very special when it happens to your own daughter. I'm so proud of you, Steph!"

"Just because I got my period?"

"No. . . just because." She was getting kind of teary and had to stop to blow her nose. "I just wish you and Rachel would make up.. Nell stopped by tonight while you were at the dance. She left a package for you. I'll go get it."

Mom came back to my room with a box wrapped in silver paper, tied with a purple ribbon. I opened the card. With love to the birthday girl, from all the Robinsons, it said in Mrs. Robinson's handwriting. Inside the box was a long, white Victorian nightgown, the kind the girl in The Nutcracker

wears. I've always wanted one. I held it up for Mom to see.

"It's beautiful," she said. "Why don't you phone and thank them."

"I'll write a note instead," I said.

I called Dad the next morning to thank him for my birthday necklace. But I forgot about the time difference and I woke him. "Should I call back later?" I asked.

"No. . . that's okay." He sounded groggy. I hoped Iris wasn't there. "What time is it, anyway?"

"It's almost ten here so I guess it's almost seven there."

He yawned. "I wanted to get up early today."

"I called to thank you for the necklace. It's beautiful. I love amethyst."

"I'm glad. How was the dance?"

"It was great!" I thought about telling him I got my period but decided against it. I didn't want him blabbIngit to Iris. It was none of her business. "By the way . . . you owe me five dollars."

"I do?"

"Yes. . . you lost your bet."

"What bet?"

"That Rachel and I would be best friends again by my birthday."

At eleven, Alison, Bruce and I took the train to New York. I asked Bruce to take Rachel's place because it was too late to invite another friend from school. And, in a way, I was glad to take him. Bruce can be very good company. Also, he made a beautiful decoupage box for my birthday. Mom said he'd been working on it secretly for a month.

39.

Mrs. Robinson.

The following week there was another snowstorm and school was closed again. I spent the afternoon at Alison's and as I walked home the sun began to set, turning the sky pink and purple. I breathed in the clean, fresh smell of the new snow. It had been a perfect afternoon. I began to hum a song I'd heard on Alison's stereo. As I passed Rachel's house I noticed Mrs. Robinson, trying to shovel her car out of a snowdrift. I should have walked the other way around the pond, I thought. I bent my head and walked faster but Mrs. Robinson saw me anyway.

"Steph. . ." she called.

I looked up as if I was really surprised. "Oh- hi, Mrs. Robinson. I didn't see you."

She came toward me, carrying her snow shovel. "You need a hand with your car?" I asked. "No, it's hopeless," she said. "I'll have to wait for the plow." She kind of leaned on her shovel. "Thanks for your note. It was very sweet."

"I really like the nightgown," I told her.

"Rachel said you would."

I wish she hadn't said Rachel's name. Every time I hear it I get a pain in my stomach.

"Stephanie. . ." Mrs. Robinson began, and I knew from the serious tone of .her voice I didn't want to hear what was coming. "What happened between you and Rachel?"

"You'll have to ask her," I said.

"I have. . . but she won't tell me."

I didn't know what to say so I just stood there', wishing Mrs. Robinson hadn't seen me.

"Surely you two can talk it over and make peace," Mrs. Robinson said. "I know Rachel wants to be your friend. I know how important you are to her."

I looked away, to the Robinsons' house. I thought I saw Rachel, watching us from her bedroom window.

"She's terribly hurt, Steph. You know how sensitive she is. You know how much she needs you."

"She needs me?" I said. Imagine Rachel needing anyone!

"Yes," Mrs. Robinson said, "she needs you very much. Sh~ depends on you."

"Did she tell you that?" I asked.

"She doesn't have to tell me. I can see it. Isn't there anything I can do to help the two of you get back together?"

I shook my head.

"Your parents' separation must be very hard on you and I don't mean to make it worse," Mrs. Robinson said.

I wanted to tell her to shut up, that she had no business discussing my parents' separation but she went right on talking. "Taking your anger out on Rachel isn't fair, Steph."

"That's what you think I'm doing?" "Am I wrong?" Mrs. Robinson asked. "Yes, you're wrong!" I said, choking up. "Then I'm sorry." She tried to put her arm around me but I pulled away and began to run. As I got closer to my house I tripped and landed in a snowdrift, soaking my jeans..

"Can you believe Mrs. Robinson said that to me?" I asked Mom that night. "Can you believe she thinks I'm taking Out my anger on Rachel? Have you ever heard such a stupid thing?"

"Maybe she's right," Mom said. "Maybe that is what's happening."

"Mom!"

"Hasn't this nonsense with Rachel' gone on long enough? Why don't you apologize, Steph?"

"Me, apologize! For what? I wish you'd stop trying to get us back together!" I shouted. "This is our problem, not yours!" I ran upstairs and slammed my bedroom door. My perfect afternoon, had been ruined!

Dad called a few days later. "I thought you'd want to know," he said, "as of May first I'm coming back to' the New York office."

"What?" I asked, switching the phone from one ear to the other. "What did you say?"

"I'll be working out of the New York office beginning the first of May," Dad said, slowly, as if we didn't speak the same language.

"Is Iris coming with you?"

"Iris and I aren't seeing each other anymore." This was news to me! "Since before or after my birthday?"

"Before," Dad said. "But look, Steph . . . I don't want you to blame yourself."

Blame myself? I thought.

"I know that kids always blame themselves for these things," Dad said.

They do?

"It wasn't your fault," Dad continued. "Iris

and I finally sat down and talked it over and we realized we have different priorities."

"So you broke up?"

"Please try not to feel guilty."

Feel guilty?

"There was a lot more to our decision than what happened at 'Christmas."

Oh. . . Christmas. So that's why he thought I'd feel guilty. My head was filled with ques tions. "Where will you live,?" 1 asked. What I really meant was, Will you and Mom get back together? Will you come home? But it was too hard to come right out and say what was on my mind.