Free Flavors by Emily Sue Harvey

it. Uppity is when you think you’re better’n other people. Classy means you know you’re not better, but you’re just as good as anybody else. Understand?”
    She sighed. “I reckon. Anyway, you’re really smart. So don’t let it bother you when them blamed Meltons fuss at you for asking questions. They’re just mad ‘cause they’re too stupid to know enough to ask questions.”
    We erupted into silent giggles again and only settled down when we heard Grandma cough and her bedsprings squeak as she tossed over in her bed.
    At the same time, the revving engine of a car came to a jolting, screeching halt in the parking space outside. We tensed. Moments later, the front door clattered open and then a stumbling and a crashing sound.
    â€œConrad!” Grandma’s stern reprimand startled me. Maveen and I listened to the clamor of Grandma and my drunken uncle as she helped him to bed in the other bedroom, dodging sleeping kids littering the floor. Our eyes glistened in the dark as we gazed at each other, picturing the scene in our minds. This happened all too often on Friday and Saturday nights, the drunken entries.
    â€œPoor Conrad,” I whispered. “He’s usually so – smart. Why is he doing this? He’s got so much potential.”
    Maveen sighed. “That means he’s – able to do lots of stuff?”
    â€œYeah.” I figured that was close enough.
    â€œI pray that Gene never drinks.”

    â€œDaddy never has.” And suddenly, I was proud beyond measure that my father was a wise man.
    Maveen snickered softly and whispered, “I wonder if the ol’ cow jumped the fence with Gene and Joe.”
    I gazed at her, not understanding.
    â€œNever mind,” she whispered.
    For long moments, as the noise faded, Maveen and I lay there on our backs staring at the ceiling, senses heightened by the crisis. I felt her hand find mine and squeeze gently before releasing it. “You okay?” she whispered.
    â€œUh huh.”
    Presently, quiet settled in and I felt my eyelids droop with heaviness.
    â€œYour head and stomachache better?” Maveen whispered before snuggling down for the last time. The unsettled feeling, accompanied by head and stomach pain, still plagued me, but for a spell here tonight, joy had overcome it all.
    â€œIt’s still here. My stomach’s still pooched out, too. But it don’t matter now,” I whispered, turning over and hugging my pillow.
    I closed my eyes and smiled. “G’night, Maveen.”

    The next morning, the dull belly pain was the first thing I felt upon awakening. When I sat up to swing my legs over the side of the bed, I felt something else. Between my legs.
    Wetness. I frowned and pulled up my gown, one of Maveen’s, actually.
    Red. Soaking my panties.
    Blood!
    My pulse began to pound in my head as fear iced through me .

    â€œMaveen!” I turned and shook her shoulder. “Maveen – wake up.”
    Maveen’s eyes popped open. Instantly, she sat up, alert to the panic in my voice. “Has somethin’ happened?” she asked, then her eyes widened. “Gene? Has something happened to Gene?” Tears already filled her panic-stricken eyes.
    â€œNo,” my voice warbled on the word. “Look.” I pulled up the gown again and then I saw that the sheet, too, was crimsonsoaked. I sniffled and a tear splashed over and trickled down my cheek. “What’s wrong with me?” I whispered, gazing imploringly at Maveen to make it better.
    Maveen looked at me, heart in eyes, then a tender smile tugged at the corners of her generous mouth. “Ah, honey. You’re just having your period.”
    I blinked at her. “Period?”
    â€œYour mama hadn’t told you about it, yet?”
    I shook my head. “W-what is it?”
    Maveen, bless her heart, began telling me about how this made me a woman. And she said how this