“Is it… does it hurt?” He meant growing. He meant changing. He meant everything.
Bram felt a hot flush crawl up his neck. He stared at the dust motes dancing in the projector beam, anywhere but the screen. Then the drawings became photographs. A boy’s face, then a girl’s, their features softening into young adulthood. A boy’s shoulder broadening. A girl’s hip curving. “Is it… does it hurt
He realized, for the first time, that becoming an adult wasn’t just about hair and height. It was about learning to sit in the dark, watch something uncomfortable, and come out the other side without running away. Bram felt a hot flush crawl up his neck
“This is normal,” Mrs. Visser had said. “Your bodies are changing. This film will explain how and why.” A boy’s face, then a girl’s, their features
Outside, the last days of 1991 faded into winter. And Bram, still a boy for a few more months, let the whir of the projector fade into a memory he would one day be grateful for. End of story.
“Yes, Bram?”
Mrs. Visser stood by the wall, arms crossed, face soft. She wasn’t smiling, but she wasn’t grimacing either. She was simply there , a grown-up who had decided that knowledge was kinder than silence.