Worldwide Crush by Kristin Nilsen

Author:Kristin Nilsen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: SparkPress

Kate begins as soon as we all find our chairs. “Welcome back, everybody. We have just one more activity before we end the day with another special ceremony. The Question Box gives you the opportunity to ask questions anonymously—things about your body, relationships, reproduction, anything. This is a safe place. And, as I’m sure you’ve all figured out already, we don’t embarrass easily. This is for moms too. Because we all have questions about things.” She smiles and begins passing out turquoise sticky notes and tiny golf pencils.

I take my pieces of paper and find a private spot in the room while everyone scratches away with their pencils. I see my mom chew on her pencil and start writing. What is she writing? Is it possible that she doesn’t know something?

I only have one question: Is it true that some ladies wax the hair off of their you-know-whats? If yes, why? This is something I heard on the bus.

The answer is yes—ouch, why?!—and has something to do with how the media portrays women. And swimsuits. And then there is also some stuff about sex, but it’s gross so I try to look like I’m not listening. When I accidentally make eye contact with my mom, she mimes sticking her finger down her throat and then mouths the words “Oh my God, please shut up!” I try to remain disinterested, but it’s hard not to laugh at her.

Some of the other questions include: Is it bad to tickle yourself in the armpit? How do you become a lesbian? What does “horny” mean? And finally—should I be worried about my daughter’s obsession with a pop music star?

Immediately, my face burns like fire. I imagine everyone turning around to look at me. And now, in this horrible moment, I understand why we’re here—it’s not my hormones, it’s that she thinks I’m a freak.

I don’t even look at my mom. I’m so embarrassed, I just move toward the door, trying not to run and also trying not to cry until I make it outside this room. My mom gets up too and follows me just as quickly, so I walk faster. When we reach the hallway, she calls out, “Mille!” in this whispering, yelling kind of way.

“Millie!” she whisper-yells again. “Stop it! Where are you going? You don’t even know where you are!”

This time I twirl around. “How could you?!” I say, mid-sob. I’ve seen myself cry before, so I know my face is red and blotchy.

“I didn’t!”

“Am I really that embarrassing to you?!” I turn and run up the stairs, not waiting for an answer, but before I get too far, she grabs my wrist and pulls me back.

“I said I didn’t!” She spins me around. “I didn’t write that question!”

I blink twice. “You didn’t?” It never for a minute occurred to me that it could’ve been someone else’s mom.

“No! I don’t even think you’re obsessed. But even if you were, I wouldn’t care.”

“Well,” I say, confused, wiping my eyes. “Who did it then?”

“Does it matter?” she says.

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