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The fluorescent lights cast a buzzing glow over the alley as the Gutteral Screams take their place for practice.
Kelsey winds her right arm back, moving with power, if not precision. Six pins go down with a clatter. Not her best, but not her worst. She returns to her seat, suddenly wincing.
This prompts a quizzical tilt of the head from Trudy. Her hand goes over her heart in a tableau of matronly concern as she asks, “Are you hurt, dear?”
Kelsey is flattered, if a little surprised by the question (and definitely warmed by the fact that it came from Trudy). “Oh, I’m fine,” she says. “Just uh, you know.” She gestures vaguely to her abdomen. Trudy stares at her blankly. Apparently, she doesn’t know, so Kelsey clarifies, “Cramps.”
Trudy’s face lights up in recognition, like the radio just played a song she hasn’t heard in a while. “Oh, it’s that time of the month!” she proclaims joyfully. The amount of delight in her tone would be strange coming from anyone else, but Kelsey has learned to expect a certain level of idiosyncrasy from her teammate.
“Believe me,” Trudy nods knowingly, “I understand just how gosh darn annoying periods can be. If you ask me, the worst part has got to be the blackouts.”
The confusion is enough to distract Kelsey from the pain. “What?”
“You know, the blackouts!” Trudy repeats helpfully. Kelsey does not, in fact, know.
The homemaker shakes her head with the same merry amusement of a parent watching their child try to comprehend a grown-up joke. “It’s all part of the cycle: once a month, you start to feel a little off, maybe you cramp up a bit, then you black out, and after a few days, you’re good as new! Tucker calls it my maintenance period.” She finishes with a chipper nod.
There is the idiosyncratic, and then there is the outright bizarre. Kelsey tries to break it to her friend as gently as possible. “I… don’t think that’s normal.”
Trudy giggles mirthfully. “Why, don’t be silly! Tucker assures me it’s perfectly normal.”
Kelsey is getting awfully sick of hearing that man’s name. “Have you ever talked to another woman about this kind of thing?” (Right now, Kelsey can’t quite believe she’s having this conversation with another woman—with Trudy, no less.) “Didn’t your mom sit you down after your first period or something?”
“Oh, but that would have been so long ago,” Trudy says, dismissing the thought with a languid flourish of her hand. “Who can remember anything from their childhood?”
“Most people,” says Kelsey, sounding slightly numb. There’s only so many Trudy-isms a person can process before it all starts going to their head. “Look, Trudy, like I tell the kids, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. The menstrual cycle is a normal part of life, and sure, the blood can be a bit gross at first, but—”
“You bleed on your periods?” Trudy cries, aghast. “That’s ridiculous! Next, you’re going to tell me that women can grow body hair!” She gets a good laugh out of that thought.
Before Kelsey can unpack that, Tony returns from his place at the approach and signals for Trudy’s turn. She gives an excited little clap and runs to fetch her ball. Without breaking a sweat, she sends it hurtling down the dead center of the lane. A strike, like always.
Next to Kelsey, Tony decides to throw in his two cents: “You know, I heard periods are a myth made up by the government.”
Kelsey puts her head in her hands. “Don’t even start.”