Nancy Wheeler Character Analysis

“Oh, you’re still flat.” Nancy laughed.

“Not exactly,” I said, pretending to be very cool. “I’m small boned, is all.”

“I’m growing already,” Nancy said, sticking her chest way out. “In a few years I’m going to look like one of those girls in Playboy.”

Well, I didn’t think so, but I didn’t say anything. My father gets Playboy and I’ve seen those girls in the middle. Nancy looks like she has a long way to go. Almost as far as me.

The others were already there. Janie Loomis, Gretchen Potter, and Nancy. That was it. We sat around on the porch and Nancy brought us cokes and cookies. When Gretchen helped herself to six Oreos at once Nancy asked her how much weight she’d gained over the summer. Gretchen put back four cookies and said, “Not much.”

“But if you aren’t any religion, how are you going to know if you should join the Y or the Jewish Community Center?” Janie asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I never thought about it. Maybe we won’t join either one.”

“But everybody belongs to one or the other,” Nancy said.

She got me out of the first bra and into the next one. I wondered how I’d ever learn to do it by myself. Maybe my mother would have to dress me every day.

“Not me,” Nancy said, proudly. “Mine’s a thirty-two double A.”

We were all impressed.

“If you ever want to get out of those baby bras you have to exercise,” she told us.

But on the other side of me things were even worse. I was next to Laura Danker! I was afraid to even look her way. Nancy warned me that reputations were catching. Well, I didn’t have to worry because Laura didn’t look my way either. She looked straight ahead.

Also, we just about gave up on our Boy Books. For one thing the names never changed. Nancy managed to shift hers around. It was easy for her—with eighteen boys. But Janie and Gretchen and I always listed Philip Leroy number one. There was no suspense about the whole thing. And I wondered, did they list Philip Leroy because they really liked him or were they doing what I did—making him number one because he was so good-looking. Maybe they were ashamed to write who they really liked too.

The film told us about the ovaries and explained why girls menstroo-ate. But it didn’t tell us how it feels, except to say that it is not painful, which we knew anyway. Also, it didn’t really show a girl getting it. It just said how wonderful nature was and how we would soon become women and all that.

“Does it make you feel older?” I asked.

“Naturally,” Gretchen answered. “My mother said now I’ll really have to watch what I eat because I’ve gained too much weight this year. And she said to wash my face well from now on—with soap.”

“And that’s it?” Nancy said. “The whole story?”

“I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you, Nancy. But really, that’s all there is to tell. Oh, one thing I forgot. My mother said I may not get it every month yet. Sometimes it takes a while to get regular.”

Are you there God? It’s me, Margaret. Gretchen, my friend, got her period. I’m so jealous God. I hate myself for being so jealous, but I am. I wish you’d help me just a little. Nancy’s sure she’s going to get it soon, too. And if I’m last I don’t know what I’ll do. Oh please God. I just want to be normal.

“Does she always act like that?”

“It’s her first time,” Mrs. Wheeler explained. “She’s frightened.” Nancy was still crying and there was a lot of whispering going on.

I couldn’t believe it! Nancy, who knew everything! She’d lied to me about her period. She’d never had it before!

Now that really started me thinking. For one thing, I never knew she was Catholic. For another, I wondered what she said in Confession. I mean, did she talk about what she did with boys? And if she did, what did the priest say to her? Did she go to Confession every time she did something bad? Or did she save it all up and go once a month?

“Don’t you think I know all about you and your friends? Do you think it’s any fun to be the biggest kid in the class?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I never thought about it.”

“Well, try thinking about it. Think about how you’d feel if you had to wear a bra in fourth grade and how everybody laughed and how you always had to cross your arms in front of you. And about how the boys called you dirty names just because of how you looked.”

I thought about it. “I’m sorry, Laura,” I said.

“I’ll bet!”

“I really am. If you want to know the truth…well, I wish I looked more like you than like me.”

“Oh, you’re still flat.” Nancy laughed.

“Not exactly,” I said, pretending to be very cool. “I’m small boned, is all.”

“I’m growing already,” Nancy said, sticking her chest way out. “In a few years I’m going to look like one of those girls in Playboy.”

Well, I didn’t think so, but I didn’t say anything. My father gets Playboy and I’ve seen those girls in the middle. Nancy looks like she has a long way to go. Almost as far as me.

The others were already there. Janie Loomis, Gretchen Potter, and Nancy. That was it. We sat around on the porch and Nancy brought us cokes and cookies. When Gretchen helped herself to six Oreos at once Nancy asked her how much weight she’d gained over the summer. Gretchen put back four cookies and said, “Not much.”

“But if you aren’t any religion, how are you going to know if you should join the Y or the Jewish Community Center?” Janie asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I never thought about it. Maybe we won’t join either one.”

“But everybody belongs to one or the other,” Nancy said.

She got me out of the first bra and into the next one. I wondered how I’d ever learn to do it by myself. Maybe my mother would have to dress me every day.

“Not me,” Nancy said, proudly. “Mine’s a thirty-two double A.”

We were all impressed.

“If you ever want to get out of those baby bras you have to exercise,” she told us.

But on the other side of me things were even worse. I was next to Laura Danker! I was afraid to even look her way. Nancy warned me that reputations were catching. Well, I didn’t have to worry because Laura didn’t look my way either. She looked straight ahead.

Also, we just about gave up on our Boy Books. For one thing the names never changed. Nancy managed to shift hers around. It was easy for her—with eighteen boys. But Janie and Gretchen and I always listed Philip Leroy number one. There was no suspense about the whole thing. And I wondered, did they list Philip Leroy because they really liked him or were they doing what I did—making him number one because he was so good-looking. Maybe they were ashamed to write who they really liked too.

The film told us about the ovaries and explained why girls menstroo-ate. But it didn’t tell us how it feels, except to say that it is not painful, which we knew anyway. Also, it didn’t really show a girl getting it. It just said how wonderful nature was and how we would soon become women and all that.

“Does it make you feel older?” I asked.

“Naturally,” Gretchen answered. “My mother said now I’ll really have to watch what I eat because I’ve gained too much weight this year. And she said to wash my face well from now on—with soap.”

“And that’s it?” Nancy said. “The whole story?”

“I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you, Nancy. But really, that’s all there is to tell. Oh, one thing I forgot. My mother said I may not get it every month yet. Sometimes it takes a while to get regular.”

Are you there God? It’s me, Margaret. Gretchen, my friend, got her period. I’m so jealous God. I hate myself for being so jealous, but I am. I wish you’d help me just a little. Nancy’s sure she’s going to get it soon, too. And if I’m last I don’t know what I’ll do. Oh please God. I just want to be normal.

“Does she always act like that?”

“It’s her first time,” Mrs. Wheeler explained. “She’s frightened.” Nancy was still crying and there was a lot of whispering going on.

I couldn’t believe it! Nancy, who knew everything! She’d lied to me about her period. She’d never had it before!

Now that really started me thinking. For one thing, I never knew she was Catholic. For another, I wondered what she said in Confession. I mean, did she talk about what she did with boys? And if she did, what did the priest say to her? Did she go to Confession every time she did something bad? Or did she save it all up and go once a month?

“Don’t you think I know all about you and your friends? Do you think it’s any fun to be the biggest kid in the class?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I never thought about it.”

“Well, try thinking about it. Think about how you’d feel if you had to wear a bra in fourth grade and how everybody laughed and how you always had to cross your arms in front of you. And about how the boys called you dirty names just because of how you looked.”

I thought about it. “I’m sorry, Laura,” I said.

“I’ll bet!”

“I really am. If you want to know the truth…well, I wish I looked more like you than like me.”