AOIFE
“WE NEED TO TALK,” Casey announced on Monday morning, as she stood in the middle of the empty girls changing room at school and glared at me.
We had a double class of P.E and I was sitting on the wooden bench, last as usual, attempting to tie the laces of my football boots and catch up with the rest of my class.
Meanwhile, Casey was fully kitted out in her training gear which consisted of a jersey, white GAA shorts, socks and boots.
She had her hurley in one hand and her pink helmet –something I hadn’t realized they sold in that color – in the other.
“I’ve tried to keep my nose out,” she added, planting her hands on her hips. “Really, I have. I figured that you’d tell me when you were ready, but it’s starting to get obvious now.”
“I’m a little lost here, Case,” I admitted, adjusting my football socks before reaching for my hurling helmet – a staple item in every school-going Irish person’s cupboard across the country.
“Listen.” Sliding onto the bench alongside me, she set her hurley and helmet down before reaching for my hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You know that I love you, right?” She gave me one of those supportive smiles. “And there’s nothing on this planet that you can’t tell me.”
“Obviously.”
“Good.” Another hand squeeze incurred. “So, if there was anything that you wanted to get off your chest, you would tell me, right?”
“What’s this about, Case?” I asked, brows furrowed in confusion.
“You tell me.”
I stared blankly back at her. “I have no idea.”
“Come on, Aoife,” she urged, eyeballing me with what I presumed was meant to be a meaningful stare, but only made her look psychotic. “It’s okay. I’m your best friend. I won’t turn my back on you in your hour of need.”
“Turn your back on me for what?” I laughed, at a loss, but finding her amusing just the same.
“Does your mother know?” she demanded then, huffing out a breath. “I presume Joe knows. That’s a given – oh my god, does Katie know? Because I can understand your mam and Joey knowing, but I swear if you told Katie Wilmot before me then I’m going to be seriously pissed. I don’t care if she’s your next-door neighbor, I’m the one who’s had your back from the dawn of time, bitch.”
“Case, you’re going to need to tell me what the hell you’re talking about, because I’m genuinely lost here, babe.”
Casey stared at me for the longest moment before her blue eyes widened and her brows shot up. “Of course they don’t know,” she mumbled, pressing a hand to her brow like she had a sudden migraine. “Because you don’t know.”
“Don’t know what?”
“Aoif.” My best friend shrugged helplessly, before saying, “I think you might be in the family way.”
I took in the sight of her comical expression and burst out laughing.
“Aoif, I’m being totally serious here.”
“I know you are,” I agreed, still laughing. “That’s what makes it so funny.”
“Aoife.”
“Oh my god, no. I’m not pregnant, Case,” I choked out, trying to sober my features. “Why would you even think that?”
“When was your last period?”
I gaped at her. “What?”
“Your last period,” she urged, tone serious. “When was that exactly?”
“I’m due on,” I told her.
“No.” She shook her head. “No, you’re not.”
“I think I’d know when my period is due,” I replied, tone defensive now, as the funny side of this conversation quickly faded.
“You would think,” she muttered, pressing her fingers to her temples. “Listen to me. Since first year, we’ve always been in sync. The third week of the month. Like clockwork.”
“So?”
“So, you’re either two weeks late on last month’s one, or two weeks early for this month’s one.”
“I’m…no, that can’t be right.” Shaking my head, I reached into my bag and grabbed my phone. “I’m due on.” Tapping furiously on the buttons of my shiny new Nokia 3510i, my secret Santa Christmas present from Nana Healy, I searched through the calendar notes, panic rising in my chest at a rapid speed. “I’m not late – oh, thank Jesus!” Exhaling a ragged breath when I found what I was looking for, I handed the phone to her and physically sagged in relief. “See?”
“What am I looking at here?”
“I knew I wasn’t late,” I told her, pointing at the saved note. “I had a switch up a couple of months back, where it came early, but I’m fine, see? My last one started on the fourteenth.”
“Yeah, that was December, Aoif.”
“What?” I shook my head. “No, no, that was January.”
“No, babe,” she corrected, tapping her long nail against the screen of my phone. “It was December.”
“That can’t be right.”
“Tell me that you had a period last month?” she begged, voice holding a note of anxiety similar to the feeling rising up inside of me. “Aoife, please. Tell me —”
“I did,” I strangled out, snatching my phone back up, and furiously checking through every calendar note and outbox message I could find only to come up empty. “Of course I did. I had one at the end of January…except…”
“Except what?”
“Well, it was weird,” I strangled out, feeling my anxiety rise. “It was super light and only lasted a day or two. It was like some light spotting that just tapered off.”
“Dear Jesus,” Casey cried, slapping the heel of her hand against her forehead. “That could have been implantation bleeding.”
“What the hell is implantation bleeding?” I demanded, eyes wide and full of terror. “Implantation of what?”
“Of Joey’s strongest fucking swimmer!” Casey strangled out. “Seriously, I know what I’m talking about. It’s like this teeny-tiny period like spotting that can trick you into thinking you’re having a period. It happened to my cousin Lisa. You know Lisa, with the twins?”
“Yes, Jesus, I know Lisa,” I wailed. “But that’s not happening to me.”
“You had a lot going on back at Christmas.” My best friend gave me a worrying look. “You know, with Joey going off the rails and stuff. Maybe you missed a pill or something?”
“I’m not pregnant, Casey!” I practically hissed, feeling the blood rush to my head at record speed. Heat encompassed my body, flooding my cheeks, and making me want to run at top speed as far away from this conversation as I could get. “I’m not, okay? I can’t be. And I never miss my pill. Never.”
“I know you don’t,” she was quick to soothe, reaching out to place a hand on mine. “I believe you.” She exhaled heavily before continuing, “It’s just that you and Joey were going through all of that crap in the new year, and your head was a little screwed up. Maybe, it slipped your mind.’
“No,” I snapped, rejecting any other thoughts. “Nothing slipped my mind. I’m careful, Case.”
“Were you on antibiotics?” she offered then. “Because certain types can mess with the pill and make it ineffective? Because that’s how my own mam ended up with me.”
“No,” I strangled out, feeling weak. “Nothing like that.”
“Were you sick? Have you had any bugs?”
“Casey!”
“Because your period has deserted you, you’ve been eating like a horse for the past two months, and your boobs have definitely gotten bigger…“ Words trailing off, she reached for the hem of my jersey. “And I mean, no offense, babe, but you do look like you’ve packed a couple of pounds on your lower belly.”
“Stop it!” I cried out, holding a hand up. “Just stop, okay?”
“I’m trying to be supportive here, Aoif,” she defended.
“Well don’t,” I cried out. “I did the right thing, Casey. I followed the rules. I waited for the right guy. I took my time. I took the damn pill. This is not supposed to happen to me. Seriously, this is all a big mistake.”
“Maybe?” she offered with a grimace. “Or maybe, you need to consider making an appointment with your doctor, because whether you want to believe it or not, Aoif, it’s looking a lot like—”
“Shh. Don’t say it. Just start praying.”
“To who?”
“St. Anthony,” I strangled out, dropping to my knees, and clasping my hands together. “He’s the saint we’re supposed to pray to when things go missing, isn’t he?”
“I don’t think St. Anthony can help find your missing period, Aoif.”
“You never know.“
“Mr. Ryan sent me to tell you both that you need to get your asses out on the pitch,” Danielle interrupted, stalking into the changing room. “Or he’ll save you both a seat in detention at lunchtime.”
“We’re coming,” Casey mumbled, making no move to get up, eyes still glued to mine.
“He said now.”
“We’re coming,” I snapped, springing up and hurrying for the door, needing to get as far away from this conversation as I could.
“Aoife,” Casey called after me. “Wait.”
I didn’t wait.
I didn’t answer her, either.
I couldn’t.
Not when my fear was paralyzing me.
