“Fine. Whatever,” I said. “I’m a woman now, as my mother keeps telling me. It honestly makes me want to puke when she says it. ‘Eleanor, be proud. You’re a woman now.’” He looked at me with a serious, unwavering expression. Then he reached up, put his hand on my shoulder, and gave me a reassuring squeeze. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “That really does sound vile. Come on, I found something cool yesterday. By the way,” he said over his shoulder as we walked, “they teach sex ed in fifth grade, so I do understand that women bleed.” “Gross.” “The power to create life is a beautiful thing.” “Oh my
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