he conceded. “It says Karen Campbell has clean routines, which everyone knows is code for ‘safe routines,’ as in non–risk taker. You should probably work on that.”
“I’ll start right now.” I shoved him with my shoulder, throwing him off balance and seconds later, the paper was in my hand, my eyes scanning the front page quickly.
Name: Karen Louise Campbell
Rank: 6th, Junior National Team
Status: Training, shoulder injury healed, sat out first senior season last year
Medical Concerns: Primary amenorrhoea
Primary amenorrhoea. I knew that term. Delayed menstruation.
Treatments: Recommend calcium supplement and increase fat in diet.
Was there a chance that Jordan had no idea what that meant? Why would he have stuffed the paper back in the cabinet if he didn’t know? Maybe he thinks it’s something else? I didn’t want to read any more. My mom had told me there was nothing wrong with me. She’d told me it wasn’t a problem that things hadn’t happened yet, but I guess it didn’t really matter anymore because now they had happened.
I returned the paper to the drawer and closed it tight. Jordan had already stood up and was busying himself with the nearly cooked pasta. God, there was no end to my humiliation in front of this boy. I decided that I might as well embrace it after the day I’d had. Hiding would only make the situation worse. And it wasn’t like I really needed to, or even could, impress Jordan or anything. He’s just a boy . And I was just a girl his dad coached.
“So,” I said, trying to sound totally casual. “Which is worse? Talking about dead parents with me or talking about female problems?”
He removed the pot from the burner and spun around to face me. “I had no business reading that. Honestly, I’ve never given it a second thought until tonight. I was just trying to impress you, so you’d think I had all kinds of insider information to share.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “Like for bribery or something?”
“No bribery.” He laughed. “Just because guys often do very stupid things to impress girls. Even someone who doesn’t go to school should know that.”
I ignored the comment because it would make my face turn red again if I tried to respond. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Neither option is very appealing, but I doubt your dose of TMI regarding the said female problems will inflict any actual harm to me. Torture, yes, but no long–term damage.”
I twirled my pen around my fingers, not able to make eye contact. “Let’s say, hypothetically, that report is no longer accurate and, hypothetically, the change was very recent. Very recent . Knowing your dad, should I just update him or avoid mentioning it like the plague?”
“I’m not sure…he and I…we don’t really…we don’t talk about much.” Jordan took a deep breath and looked down at his hands. “You probably know him better than I do.”
“That can’t be true,” I said, trying to sound reassuring. “And I don’t want to sit around and chat about womanhood with him or anything, but I am living here and I might need certain—”
Jordan’s mouth formed a big “O” of comprehension. “We’re all going to squirm if you tell him. I’ll take you to the store. We can go now. We’ve got at least an hour before he gets back.”
This wasn’t exactly my idea of a fun evening, but honestly, there were a few other things I needed to pick up and I’d never ask Coach Bentley for yet another favor on top of carting me to practice and the shrink all the time.
And how many plug–in air fresheners would it take to get rid of the scent of home in my new bedroom?
“Make sure you turn off the burner before we leave.” I pointed to the stove top and Jordan jumped into action, spinning the knob until it clicked off.
He glanced at his cell phone. “Let’s get back in forty–five minutes, just to be safe.”
***
Jordan froze in the center of the grocery store aisle,
“I’ll start right now.” I shoved him with my shoulder, throwing him off balance and seconds later, the paper was in my hand, my eyes scanning the front page quickly.
Name: Karen Louise Campbell
Rank: 6th, Junior National Team
Status: Training, shoulder injury healed, sat out first senior season last year
Medical Concerns: Primary amenorrhoea
Primary amenorrhoea. I knew that term. Delayed menstruation.
Treatments: Recommend calcium supplement and increase fat in diet.
Was there a chance that Jordan had no idea what that meant? Why would he have stuffed the paper back in the cabinet if he didn’t know? Maybe he thinks it’s something else? I didn’t want to read any more. My mom had told me there was nothing wrong with me. She’d told me it wasn’t a problem that things hadn’t happened yet, but I guess it didn’t really matter anymore because now they had happened.
I returned the paper to the drawer and closed it tight. Jordan had already stood up and was busying himself with the nearly cooked pasta. God, there was no end to my humiliation in front of this boy. I decided that I might as well embrace it after the day I’d had. Hiding would only make the situation worse. And it wasn’t like I really needed to, or even could, impress Jordan or anything. He’s just a boy . And I was just a girl his dad coached.
“So,” I said, trying to sound totally casual. “Which is worse? Talking about dead parents with me or talking about female problems?”
He removed the pot from the burner and spun around to face me. “I had no business reading that. Honestly, I’ve never given it a second thought until tonight. I was just trying to impress you, so you’d think I had all kinds of insider information to share.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “Like for bribery or something?”
“No bribery.” He laughed. “Just because guys often do very stupid things to impress girls. Even someone who doesn’t go to school should know that.”
I ignored the comment because it would make my face turn red again if I tried to respond. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Neither option is very appealing, but I doubt your dose of TMI regarding the said female problems will inflict any actual harm to me. Torture, yes, but no long–term damage.”
I twirled my pen around my fingers, not able to make eye contact. “Let’s say, hypothetically, that report is no longer accurate and, hypothetically, the change was very recent. Very recent . Knowing your dad, should I just update him or avoid mentioning it like the plague?”
“I’m not sure…he and I…we don’t really…we don’t talk about much.” Jordan took a deep breath and looked down at his hands. “You probably know him better than I do.”
“That can’t be true,” I said, trying to sound reassuring. “And I don’t want to sit around and chat about womanhood with him or anything, but I am living here and I might need certain—”
Jordan’s mouth formed a big “O” of comprehension. “We’re all going to squirm if you tell him. I’ll take you to the store. We can go now. We’ve got at least an hour before he gets back.”
This wasn’t exactly my idea of a fun evening, but honestly, there were a few other things I needed to pick up and I’d never ask Coach Bentley for yet another favor on top of carting me to practice and the shrink all the time.
And how many plug–in air fresheners would it take to get rid of the scent of home in my new bedroom?
“Make sure you turn off the burner before we leave.” I pointed to the stove top and Jordan jumped into action, spinning the knob until it clicked off.
He glanced at his cell phone. “Let’s get back in forty–five minutes, just to be safe.”
***
Jordan froze in the center of the grocery store aisle,
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