swirling

Today I had the pleasure of passing by two girls, one sobbing into her hands and the other trying to help her breathe. Honestly, at their age (13-15), this is a common occurrence. However, I couldn’t just walk by. I shepherded them into the nearest office and let them calm down on the couch. Then I heard the following conversation, whispered, muffled by sniffs and heavy breathing.

Girl One, “You’re going to be fine.”
Girl Two sniffs.
Girl One, “This always happens, and it is always okay in the end.”
Girl Two takes a deep breath and whispers, “It’s different this time.”
Girl One looks around and then whispers back, “No it isn’t. You guys always do this and then you say you were stupid and promise not to do it again, and then you get scared and he gets mad and then it’s all okay and then you do it again.”
Girl Two’s eyes dash around the room. “Let’s go to the bathroom.”

They were supposed to be in Geography. They were supposed to be coloring Africa green and England pink, the rivers blue and the mountains brown. Instead, they’re crouched in the corner of a bathroom, waiting for their periods to start.