‘You are NOT trying to improve our campus community. You don’t even want to be PART of the campus community. You want to get kicked out! And this is your plan to do that. You know there’s no way in … heck that we’re going to be allowed to perform the … the …’

Mary Kate fumbled for a G-rated synonym for vagina because there was no chance she was saying the word. Even if the entire International Federation of Gynecologists set her on fire like Joan of Arc and circled around her, chanting, she wouldn’t say it.

‘… a play like that,’ she finished instead. ‘You know you’re gonna get in trouble for it, you know it’s gonna create chaos and anarchy, and the worst part is, you’re sucking all of us in with you!’

Girlfriend knows me too well. I had to throw her off the scent, or I’d lose my little feminist army right when I needed them the most. So I decided to mix a bit of truth in with the lies.

‘Hey!’ I said. ‘I may hate St Mary’s, but I step up when people around here need me. Remember when that freshman in our dorm got her menstrual cup stuck and was too scared to tell Sister Hellda or the school nurse? Who saved the day then?’

That was one hundred percent true. Maybe it’s my purple hair, or the cloud of clove cigarette smoke that follows me down to the basement laundry room, but everyone in St Theresa Hall knows I’m the person to come to for non-nun-friendly crises.

‘I meant what I said,’ I continued. ‘There’s a lot of stuff I don’t care about – how many calories are in a deep-fried Oreo, sports – but I do care about gender, and equality, and sexual health. You made your semester vow; this is mine. I’m going to put on the first-ever St Mary’s Catholic School production of The Vagina Monologues. And I really think it’s gonna be good for this campus.’

Mary Kate squinted at me again, for at least a minute and a half. Then, slowly, she tucked the tiny purple stapler away in her backpack. I had at least sixty percent convinced her.

And that meant my cover story was good enough for Father Hughes.

‘Well, Ms Heck! Isn’t this a pleasant surprise!’

Father Hughes greeted me with a smile as I walked into his office two days later. He extended his hand across his desk to shake mine.

I’m sure it was a surprise for Father Hughes to see me walk into his office voluntarily, sober, smiling and in uniform, with my shirt buttoned and everything. I shook his hand and took my seat, discovering that the green leather didn’t stick to your thighs when you wore your skort at regulation length instead of rolled all the way up your twat. Huh. Who knew?