Nuts and Bolts

Nuts and Bolts

The teenage girl shuffled down the hall with her eyes on a screen the size of an index card, as she simultaneously talked to many people and no one.  

“Autumn?"

“Yep,” She stopped but continued tapping at her phone. “What’s up mom?”

“Come in here for a sec.”

“Why?” 

“Because I want to talk to you.”

“About what?” The girl lingered in the doorway. Her heavy, dark eyelashes blinked nervously.

“About today.”

“There’s really nothing to talk about,” she shrugged and sighed. “I mean, it’s over.”

“Honey,” her mother lowered her gaze.

“I don’t want to talk about it, mom,” the girl entered the room with a sigh and continued thumbing her device. 

“Okay,” she started. Her mom surveyed her. “Your hair looks pretty today.”

“Thanks,” Autumn grazed it with her hand.

“So,” her mother spoke. “About today.”

“It was literally the most humiliating day of my life,” the girl raised a thin brow. “So, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to just go ahead and forget it ever happened. Okay?”

Her mother grinned and shook her head slowly. “I’m afraid you won’t able to do that, honey. Sorry.”

“Great. Awesome. Makes me feel better. Thanks.”

“Trust me, though honey. If it makes you feel any better, there’ll be more humiliating moments in your life that will end up taking its place.” 

“Sweet mom, thanks for the heads-up.” She scowled. “Makes me feel way better. Awesome.”

“Autumn—honey—look at me,” she put a hand on her arm. “Just put your phone down for a second and listen.”

“I’m listening,” she slid it into her back pocket with a sigh. “What is it, mom?”

“I’m sorry about what happened.”

“It’s okay,” the girl crossed her legs and ran her fingers across a shredded portion of her jeans. “It’s fine. I mean, it’s not like it was your fault or anything.”

“I know,” she said. “But are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Autumn paused. “I mean, I guess. As okay as I’ll ever be.”

“It’s okay if you’re not,” her mom assured her.  “Honey.”

“Oh, mom—,” Autumn’s voice cracked, and her face wilted, “—it was awful. It was so freakin’ embarrassing. I can’t even tell you how bad it was.”

“I know, sweetie.”

“Everyone saw it,” she whimpered. “It was so freakin horrible, mom. I can’t even—"

“Honey,” she cradled her daughter’s salty head in her arms, “it’ll be okay.”

“No, it won’t, mom,” she said between snorts. “Don’t lie to me. Don’t even.”

“Alright,” her mother conceded. “It probably won’t. But—”

“You know what?” Autumn wiped away a streak of mascara with her palm. “I hate being a girl. Just an FYI,” she turned to her. “Really freakin’ hate it.”

“It gets better, sweetie.”

“No, it doesn’t,” her eyes narrowed.

“Well—,” stammered her mom. “It depends on the day. You’ll see.”

“Anyway,” her daughter managed a smile. “Thanks again for dropping off those jeans at school for me. You really saved my life. Seriously.”

“You’re welcome, honey. Anytime you need—”

“What in the hell was I thinking wearing white pants? Right?”

“You were thinking about matching your outfit, Autumn. You were thinking about looking nice. That’s all.”

“Ugh,” she rose slowly and adjusted a wayward spaghetti strap, “guys have it so friggin’ easy, don’t they?”

“Yes,” answered her mother quickly. “They do.”

“It’s so not fair. They don’t have,” she gestured. “Stuff dripping out of them.”

“No,” she turned to her daughter, “no, they’ve got plenty of stuff dripping out of them. They just leave their mess for other people to clean up.

“Ugh,” the girl her left cheek in front of the mirror. “My face is a total disaster.”

“It is not.”

 “Yes, it is. I’m breaking out all over the freakin’ place,” she winced. “My skin literally feels like a page of Braille.”

“Don’t pop them, honey. Don’t do that.”

“Stacy told me her mom wears diapers when she’s on her period.”

“I think she means pads,” smirked her mom. 

“What’s the difference?”

“Marketing,” she said. “Mostly.”

The young woman’s phone shuddered. She tapped it for a few seconds and returned it to her back pocket.

“But you can use whatever you want. Just tell me what you want me to buy and—”

“I will, Mom,” Autumn gave a slight eye roll. “Don’t worry.”

“Okay,” she said. “I just don’t want this to be awkward.”

“Well, it kinda already is,” grinned her daughter. “FYI.”

“Oh. Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright,” she tucked a strand of jet-black hair behind her left ear. “Could be worse, right?”

Her mother beamed. “Always.”

“Stacy’s brother saw a tampon in the garbage yesterday.”

“Okay,” shrugged her mom. “Well, it was bound to happen eventually…”

“She said he was really grossed out by it,” Autumn’s smile widened and the dimples on her cheeks rose defiantly. “Guys are really grossed out by it, aren’t they?”

“Some are,” she answered.  “The nice ones usually aren’t. I think it’s just hard for them to relate. Or even try to. Their bodies are more,” she gestured. “Nuts and bolts than ours. Uh—” she paused. “Oh. That sounded really bad, didn’t it?”

“Um, yeah,” the young woman laughed as her face sank into her hands, “this is so awkward.”

“Welcome to adulthood, honey.”