“You don’t have to carry my bag.” I tried to wrestle it away from him but he swatted my hand away and strode down the hallway like he owned the place.
“It weighs more than you do.” He slowed his pace to accommodate my shorter legs so I didn’t have to jog to keep up with him. “What do you have in here anyway? Bricks?”
“Just textbooks.”
“There’s only a few more weeks of school left.”
“I know. But we still have homework.” I’d been working hard, determined to get straight A’s to make my mom proud. We’d been talking about college and I told her I wanted to go to University of Texas in Austin just like she had.
Behind me I heard some guys snickering and talking shit. Without having to look, I recognized one of the voices as Kyle Matthews. Pretty sure he was still annoyed with me for shooting him down. Back in October, he invited me to the homecoming dance. Actually, it wasn’t even me who shot him down. It was Jude and Brody who were pissed that anyone would actually dare to ask me out.
Ugh, boys. Sometimes Jude and Brody treated me like a little sister. Was that how Jude saw me too?
Tuning out Kyle’s lewd comments, I sped up. My stomach really hurt now and all I could think about was how I’d given Ashleigh permission to go for Jude. Why hadn’t I told her... told her what, exactly?
Not about to let the insults go, Jude turned around and walked backward, shooting a glare in Kyle’s direction. “You got a problem, asshole?”
“No. But your little girlfriend does. First head lice and now this. Damn. She’s a real catch, McCallister. Bet she gets bitchy when she’s on the rag, doesn’t she?”
Oh my God. What?
Jude slammed Kyle against a locker. I didn’t hang out long enough to see what was happening. I sprinted to the nearest girls’ bathroom and locked myself in a stall. It was a massacre. Blood everywhere.
Why had I worn a white denim mini today? Why? The floral top I was wearing was blousy, the elastic skimming the bottom of my waistband. It did nothing to cover the damage. Kate took me shopping last weekend and bought me this outfit for my fifteenth birthday. At the time, I thought it was so cute. An attempt to move on from my usual jeans, T-shirts and Converse.
How many girls didn’t get their period until they were fifteen? Me. That’s who.
I wanted my mom.
Please get better, Mom. I need you. But she wasn’t going to get better. The cancer had metastasized, and there was nothing the doctors could do now.
And I was locked in a toilet stall without my bag. Not that anything in my bag could have helped this situation. I tried to do what I could with wads of toilet paper but it didn’t help. I flushed the toilet and leaned against the door, staring at the ballet flats on my feet as if they had a solution for my problem.
I couldn’t go out there until I was sure everyone was gone. I was going to miss the school bus. Then I’d have to walk home. Why me?
Tears of frustration blurred my vision but I blinked them back. Tears couldn’t help me now.
“Hey. Are you okay?” a girl’s voice on the other side of the toilet stall asked.
I didn’t recognize the voice but if I spoke up she might be able to help. I took a few deep breaths, trying to find my voice. “Um. I just got my period...” I sighed, my shoulders slumping.
“Oh man, that sucks. You need something? I think I have a tampon. Hang on. Got it.”
I looked down as a tampon appeared under the door and I took it from the girl’s fingers. “Thanks. I...” I stared at the tampon in my hand then ripped off the paper wrapper and stared at it some more. Of all the things my mom had taught me, inserting a tampon wasn’t one of them. God, this was so embarrassing.
“I’ve never used one before.” I cringed.
“Okay. It’s cool. I’ll talk you through it. My older sister helped me. It’s kind of weird the first time but you’ll get used to it.”
She talked me through it and if she hadn’t been so cool about it, I would have been more humiliated than I already was. Not to mention that it felt weird and I wasn’t sure how I’d ever get used to it. “I’m Christy, by the way. Christy Rivera.”
I put a face to the name. Long, sleek dark hair, big dark eyes, funky clothes. She hung out with the artsy kids. “Lila Turner.”
“We have a couple classes together.”
“Lila?”
My eyes widened at the sound of Jude’s voice.
“Oh hey. She’s in here. You’re Jude, right?”
“Yeah. Christy, right?”
“That’s me.”
“You okay, Rebel?” he asked, his booming voice echoing off the tiles.
“You shouldn’t be in here,” I hissed.
“Come out,” he said, sounding unfazed by the fact that he was in the girls’ bathroom and that I was locked in a stall with blood on my white denim skirt.
“I...” I exhaled loudly. “I can’t.”
“Hang on.” His sports bag dropped to the floor with a thud and under the door I saw him rummaging around in it. A few seconds later, he tossed his faded blue hoodie over the door.
“Hey. I’ll see you guys later,” Christy called. “Have a good weekend.”
“Thanks. For everything.”
“No problem.” I heard the door close behind her and then it was just me and Jude. Alone. In the girls’ bathroom.
“Jude... you should go. You’re going to miss the bus.”
“Already did. I called my mom to pick us up. Just put my hoodie on. It’ll be long enough to cover...” He cleared his throat. “... you know.”
My cheeks flamed with mortification.
Every other girl I knew had already gotten their period. I’d gotten mine at the end of my freshman year in the middle of the school hallway. And who had seen it? Besides the guys who had
