Charlotte's Tangled Web: L.B. Pavlov (7 page)

He didn’t realize that I knew everything there was to know about football from my best friend. When dinner came, he switched the subject and inquired about my running. He said that he saw me out there at practice and heard from a bunch of football players how I had been a state champion, et cetera. He asked if I thought I could do it again, and I told him that I would try my best and that I had been training really hard over the summer for the season, but I was certain other girls had done the same.

He then told me how he didn’t even realize that cross-country was a real sport before he met me. I was stunned—not necessarily that he didn’t know it was a sport but mostly because he admitted his ignorance to me. It seemed like something he could have kept to himself, but I guess he was a straight-shooter.

He was really nice during dinner, and he smiled at me a lot. He kept asking if my food was OK, and he touched my hand across the table. I was very surprised when he did this, but I was desperately trying to fight off the feeling of nausea that was replacing the severe cramps. Maybe the food wasn’t sitting well. I pulled my hand away as I tried to sip my water, hoping that this sick feeling would go away.

Blane smiled and asked sweetly, “So will you be going to the first game next Friday, Charlie?”

“Oh yes! I never miss a game. I will be there with bells on,” I replied, returning his smile and then sipping some more water.

Blane asked if I would like some dessert, but I told him that I was pretty full. Normally I would happily skip a meal just to get to dessert, but at the moment, I wasn’t feeling like anything at all.

He charmingly asked if I would consider sharing some of the dessert he was ordering. I told him that sounded like a great plan. I excused myself from the table to use the restroom. I was definitely coming down with something because now I had a horrible headache, and I was sweating.

I went into the restroom and dabbed my forehead with water. Once I sat down in the bathroom stall, my jaw hit the ground. I think I actually screamed, “
Oh my gosh!
” out loud. I had gotten my period…for the very first time. I was seventeen years old and it finally decided to come now? On my first date? Are you kidding me? I burst into tears as I sat in that little toilet stall. I couldn’t stop crying. What should I do? These were the times that you really wished you had a mother. I mean, whom do you talk to about this? I had never told anyone that I didn’t have it because each time one of my friends or teammates got her period, I would feel more and more self-conscious. My dad and my brothers definitely never brought it up.

The most Lenora ever said was, “If you need anything, just ask,” with a wink. I assumed this was what she was talking about, but I honestly was never really sure. I calmed myself down, relaxed my breathing, and used some toilet paper to temporarily fix the situation. I started laughing as I walked out of the stall and looked in the mirror. I was a mess. Of course this would happen to me. I was annoyed that I was wearing these stupid heels now; my feet were killing me. My head was pounding. At least I understood why my stomach hurt now. This just was not what I had imagined for my first date. I cleaned up my face and added some lipgloss. I looked at myself one more time in the mirror. You are OK, Charlotte. You can do this.

I walked out to the table and smiled. He had ordered tiramisu for dessert. He told me again that I looked beautiful tonight, which led me to believe that I had hidden my little secret just fine. Thank goodness the restaurant had dim lighting, I thought.

“Please have a bite, Charlie,” he said.

I didn’t feel like it, but of course I politely agreed. When I went to pick up my fork, he surprised me by grabbing it.

“I would like to feed you a bite if that would be OK with you?” he asked.

I was stunned. Was this what people did on dates? All I could think of was how sick I felt and that I hoped I didn’t chuck my cookies in that beautiful, shiny BMW.

“Oh, sure,” I said, “that is sweet of you.” I smiled.

He put the largest bite of tiramisu on the fork, and I had to swallow before I could even open my mouth just to try to get it in. It took me a good three minutes to choke it down.

I kept adding some “mmmmmmmm mmmmmmmm” noises and a few smiles to reassure him. It was a romantic gesture. I was just trying to figure out how I could get home quickly without hurting his feelings.

“Charlie, since you are going to the first game next week…” he continued after he took another bite, “would you want to go with me to Johnny Grant’s party after the game?”

Johnny Grant was a good friend of Daniel. He was the kicker on the football team. I had heard he had a lot of parties, but I had never actually gone to one. I thought, this might be a good way to let him know that my wanting to cut this evening short had absolutely nothing to do with him at all.

I said, “Oh, that sounds like a great idea, Blane. I will plan on it. Would you mind, though, if we headed home after dinner because I’m just feeling a little under the weather right now?” I tried to sound calm.

“Headed home? To my home or yours?” he laughed.

I nervously said, “I need to go to my home, and you can feel free to go to your home.”

He started laughing at my response. “I’m disappointed, Charlie. I hope I didn’t do anything wrong?” he said.

“Oh my gosh, no! I had a really tough workout, and I think I just overdid it,” I said in my most convincing voice.

“Well, try not to work out too hard next Friday,” he said with a laugh.

I didn’t like it. I felt a chill go through my body and not in a good way. It sounded kind of sleazy. I just stared at him, and then he smiled and nervously changed his tone.

“Of course I will take you home, Miss Charlie. I am sorry you aren’t feeling well.”

He quickly paid the check, and I thanked him for dinner as we got into the fancy BMW. Please, God, please let me get home without getting sick in his dream mobile. We pulled up to my house, and he looked at me as if trying to decide how to say good-night. He was making no move to get out of the car and walk me to the door.

I made it really easy for him.

I patted him on the shoulder and said, “Thank you for a great dinner, Blane. See you Monday.”

He look disappointed, to say the least, and just said, “Don’t forget about going with me to the party next Friday after the game. I will drive you over.”

“OK, thanks,” I said as I closed the door, and then I walked up the driveway. He drove off, and my front door flew open like a gust of wind had just come through the walkway.

“The douche bag can’t walk you to the door?” Daniel shouted.

Lenora was standing behind him and hit him over the head with a rolled-up magazine. “Manners, Daniel!” she said.

“Forgive me, Lenora!
Mister Douche Bag
can’t walk you to the door?” he shouted again.

I just stood in the dimly-lit entryway of my home, looking very shocked to see him. Lenora gave me a hug and said she would see me in the morning. Daniel had three cookies in his hand and was just staring at me.

“What are you doing here? I thought you went out?” I said quietly.

“I came home early because I hadn’t heard from you. Why didn’t he walk you to the door?” he said angrily.

“Daniel, maybe I am a modern-day woman. Maybe I don’t want to be walked to the door,” I said angrily as I stormed into the kitchen, and he followed.

He burst out laughing. “Charlotte, you are not a modern-day woman. And even if you were, he should
still
walk you to the door to make sure you got inside safely. Grace Hollingsworth would kick my ass if I didn’t walk someone to the door,” he said, still laughing at my modern-day woman comment.

My eyes had to adjust to the bright lights in the kitchen, and I looked up at him to respond. The look on his face when our eyes met silenced me.

He went completely pale. “You’ve been crying. What did he do to you?” he asked in a very serious voice.

“Nothing, Daniel, he didn’t do anything to me. He took me out for a nice dinner. I haven’t been crying,” I lied in order to not have to talk about what happened. I would never be able to explain this one, not even to Daniel.

“Charlotte, I am going to give you three seconds to tell me what happened,” he said firmly. “Otherwise I am going to get my keys and go find that prick and find out from him what happened.”

“Daniel, I don’t want to talk about it right now, OK?” I said.

He turned, grabbed his keys, and said, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” and he started to head out of the kitchen.

“Daniel, wait!” I pleaded, almost desperate. The last thing I needed was for him to ask Blane what had happened. He would have
no
idea what happened. “How do you even know that I was crying?” I asked, annoyed.

“Because I know what your eyes look like after you cry, and you have definitely been crying. You have three seconds to start talking,” he said again but calmly this time.

“This is going to go down in history as the most humiliating moment of my life. Are you OK with that?” I said angrily.

“Completely,” he said, staring at me.

“Um, how do I even say this?” I said, nervously biting my lip and then stopping when I saw him notice.

“Just say it, Charlotte. This is not your fault,” he said, trying to remain calm.

“Oh my gosh, Daniel. You are acting like a crazy person. Of course it wasn’t my fault. No one did anything to me, you idiot!” I shouted. His eyes grew wide as I continued, “I got my period—for the first time ever. And I didn’t know what to do. And it happened on my first date. And that’s why I cried. Are you happy now?” I was still shouting, and then I burst into absolute hysterics.

Daniel looked completely stunned. He hugged me for what seemed like forever, and as I calmed down he backed away and looked at me with the most concerned look I had ever seen on his face. “This was the first time you ever got your period? Why?” he asked.

He could not have asked me a more offensive question if he had tried. This set me off into a crazy emotional rage. “
I don’t know why, Daniel!
Maybe because I’m a freak! I am seventeen years old, Daniel, and I have never had my period! I have never been on a date! I don’t have a mother to ask what to do! Is that what you want to hear?” I shouted. I was beyond consoling now. I was embarrassed and tired, and the night had not turned out the way that I had hoped.

Daniel refused to stop hugging me until I calmed down. I finally did, but only after a long time. “Charlotte? Can I speak?” he asked in the sweetest voice I had ever heard him use.

“Yes,” I said softly. I could hear how tired I was in my response.

He continued hugging me and said, “I would never want to embarrass you, Charlotte. Never. I just wanted to know what was wrong. I am sorry for pushing. I am sorry for asking why you hadn’t had your period before now. I was only concerned and wanted to make sure that you were OK. I don’t know much about it, but I thought girls got it before they were seventeen, and I mean no disrespect by saying that. It is not my place to ask, and I am sorry that you had to tell me. Do you want me to have my mom talk to you about it? You know Grace loves to play the role of your mother any chance she gets. I could also take you to the doctor if you’re nervous about going alone, just to make sure that everything is OK.”

He pulled me out of our embrace and looked at me. He wiped my tears so he could see my eyes, and he tucked my hair behind my ears—I was sure it was as out of control as I was feeling. I couldn’t be mad at him now. He was the only person whom I felt truly close to. He was doing this because he cared about me, not to embarrass me.

“I think it’s OK, Daniel. I had looked it up on the Internet a while ago. I think it’s just because of all the running maybe? Or I may just be a late bloomer? But it doesn’t mean that anything is wrong with me because lots of people get it late. Plus, my mom wrote about it in one of her journals, and she got hers for the first time at seventeen years old too. She ended up with four kids, so I think everyone is just different,” I said in a hopeful voice.

“Of course nothing is wrong with you. You are the most perfect person that I know. My sweet little late bloomer.” He chuckled and continued, “But I don’t think it would hurt to talk to a doctor and just make sure that you aren’t pushing yourself too hard with the running.”

I agreed to consider that as long as he didn’t tell anyone, and I would think about telling Grace myself. I didn’t want them to discuss it. It was embarrassing enough that he knew. He agreed to my terms.

He then grabbed my hand and said, “I’m really sorry that you don’t have a mom to talk to about this, Charlotte,” and I could tell that he genuinely hurt for me just by the look in his eyes. My waterworks started again This was unbelievable. I had never cried this much in my entire life.

I hugged him tightly again, and after a while he said, “Charlotte?”

I quietly said, “Yes?”

“Did you really call me an idiot when you were yelling at me?” he said, and we both burst out laughing again.

We ended up talking about my date and the BMW, which made Daniel absolutely sick. He went on and on about pretentious cars and pretentious people. I told him how Blane fed me tiramisu, which made him cringe and made both of us laugh some more.

He told me about how his night went. How Crystal Bryant made yet another attempt to repeat their evening from a few weeks back, but he restrained himself this time, probably due to worrying about me, he said. We laughed some more.

I told him how Blane asked me to go to Johnny Grant’s party after the game Friday night. He thought it was a fine idea because he would be there as well. “You’re growing up, Charlotte. First it’s the date, then it’s the period and now a party.”

I slapped him on the shoulder. “Please, please, don’t say the word ‘period’ ever again, Daniel. It’s too embarrassing for me,” I said desperately.

“OK, I won’t use that word again. But you know you can always talk to me, and you can trust me, Charlotte,” he said sincerely.

“I know I can. I promise I will if I need to.”