CamPound. Phone! Drink. Ruthie calls Peter. "Don't 'hello' me!" She wants to know why Peter told her mom she got her period, "and don't call me 'honey' or 'sweetie'!" Peter lamely counters with "why did you tell my mom I was smoking," but gives it up in favor of the "your mom should know" argument. Ruthie hangs up loudly. Peter shrugs.
Kevin steps into the courtyard and sees Xtina. She is not turning tricks. Simon is upstairs, and she wants to know if "everyone know[s]." Just Lucy. "I knew I was never going to make it to that prom. Time to move on." Kevin makes a "duh" face. Oh wait, that's his everyday face. Xtina says she's sure he doesn't want to hear her "sad, sad story," so why doesn't she just "pack [her] bags" and head on out of there? Kevin clumsily explains that now, she has "a place to live" with "nice people," so if she runs away and "does what she does," what would her excuse be then? Well, force of habit? And how long was she supposed to stay there -- her story was that the millions of dogs she walked (heh) flea-d up her building, and she needed a place to stay when it was being flea-bombed. That probably equals forever in CamSpeak. Or at least a bid for Season Eight, woo!
Annie and Barry talk. He wanted to talk to Sarah before her parents did. "I hope she's not too angry." Annie says, "Oh, she loves you." Barry says, "I hope she's not too angry at YOU." Annie squinches up her face and he says he's KIDDING. No, he's not. Then he says, "Why would she be angry with you when she could be angry with me." Snuh? Oh, right. CamSpeak.
Simon and his sideburns walk by. Barry is all, hey, we were looking for you all night! Where was he? Shopping for a prom dress, says Simon. For Xtina. Barry is all, "Let's talk."
Eric sits with a coffee and tries to get Ruthie to talk to him. Ruthie has a speech inside her, dying to get out. Here it is: "Dad, I'm not like Mary, I'm not going to send you to the store for tampons. And I'm not like Lucy, who thought the world was going to end when all her friends had their periods and she didn't. I'm like me! And I don't want to talk about it. I don't want a special dinner or a celebration. That's why I didn't want anyone to know about it, especially Mom. 'Cause I knew Mom would make a big deal about it." Eric says, "Your mom didn't make it that way. It's a first, it's a big first, and your mom and I have been there for all your firsts...this is a special thing between a mother and a daughter." Ruthie is all, "What do you want me to do?" Get your napkin ready for a special dinner, missy! Eggs, sunny side up, with ketchup! And, um, caviar! Tampon cigars all around! Seriously, "special dinner"? Come on. I'm going to date myself here, but after I read Judy Blume's Are You There God? It's Me...Margaret, I craved my period. I wanted it bad, real bad. Because I wanted to be a woman too! My mom of course knew all this, and told me about everything except one aspect. The cramps. She didn't tell me about cramps! One day I had them real bad, and asked her why she didn't tell me. She said, "Because I didn't want you to dread it!" ["My mom did the same thing. I'd have preferred the warning, all things being equal." -- Sars] So, all you youngsters out there, hear it from me: Cramps can be a fucking nightmare. The end.