“Good morning,” the girl replies, her mousy brown hair gathered in fat curls around her face, almost like she’s trying to hide behind them. Add in the thick-rimmed glasses and the way she’s always staring at the floor and you’d almost believe it. If it weren’t for the sharpness in her stare and the almost imperceptible quirk of her mouth, it might even be true. But it’s quite clear that Delphine isn’t all that she seems. “Looking forward to your first day of school?” she asks, surprising me.
I raise my brows and step aside, cringing a little as she drags back my blankets at the same moment I register a bit of warmth between my thighs.
“Shit,” I murmur as the bloodstain on my sheets is revealed. “Sorry, Delphine, you don’t have to clean that.” I move forward to take over the cleaning duties when Delphine holds up a hand, shaking her head slightly.
“This is my job and trust me: I’ve cleaned up worse,” she admits as I cringe and wish that I still lived in a normal house with normal people who cleaned up their own messes. Just as I’m about to argue with Delphine, I feel liquid on my inner thighs and look down just in time to see a bit of blood trail down past my Bowser shorts.
As always, my timing is impeccable, and Parrish opens his door at just the right moment to see me standing there, blood dripping on the floor near my feet. He’s in the process of adjusting his tie, shrugging into the solid black Whitehall blazer at the same moment. But as soon as he sees me, he stops dead in his tracks.
We stare at each other as his eyes widen, and my cheeks—and yeah, my boobs—turn pink and red respectively.
“You’re bleeding,” Parrish says, like he’s dumbstruck. He actually stops walking to stare.
I just stare back at him, realizing that this is kind of an intimate moment to be sharing with my newfound stepbrother on the first day of school. What a fantastic start to what’s bound to be an eventful day—thanks to my, uh, performance at the party.
“Girls bleed, Parrish!” I yell back at him, slamming the door in his surprised face and then turning to look at Delphine. She’s pretending not to smile as I grab the edge of the sheet and yank it off, dragging it along with me into the bathroom.
“Girls bleed, Parrish,” I mimic, rolling my eyes at myself as I strip down and shower. How articulate I am. Instead of some witty, kick-ass, don’t-give-a-shit comment, I had to blurt what had to be a pretty obvious fact, considering I was standing there having my period in front of my new stepbrother.
I pretend like all will be forgotten by the time I get downstairs.
Instead, it’s worse than I thought.
“Hey,” Tess says softly, resting her hand gently against my upper arm. “You look adorable in that uniform.”
I glance down at the black blazer, pleated skirt, and tie that matches my damn hair, and frown. I’m a big fan of self-expression. Kind of hard to self-express in a uniform that looks like an infantilized version of a corporate suit.
“What does Dump Your Pornsick Boyfriend mean?” she asks me, glancing down at the button on my book bag. Ehh, I just don’t have the energy for a feminist discussion this early in the morning.
“Pretty self-explanatory,” I answer glibly, and Tess’ left eye twitches. But as I try to pull away and head toward the kitchen, she strengthens her grip on my arm slightly.
“I heard from Parrish that you …” she begins, and I feel my jaw clench tight. That motherfucker. “Started your period today. Was this your first time?”
I give her a look like she’s insane.
“I got my first period when I was twelve,” I say and Tess blinks at me in surprise. Her grip on my arm loosens suddenly, and I can quite clearly see that she’s embarrassed. “I’ve got plenty of pads, tampons, menstrual cups, and, uh, period underwear,” I start and then shrug, hoisting my book bag up my shoulder. “But if I need anything else, I’ll come to you first.” I give a loose swing of my arm in like, some strange attempt to be funny, but Tess just gives me this terrible, deprecating smile.
“Okay, honey,” she says, face tight as she turns back toward the kitchen, and I’m left standing there cursing under my breath.
Back home, I’d be dragging myself out of bed in about a half hour, slogging down the stairs and slumping at the table for breakfast. Grandpa insisted on cooking for me and Maxine nearly every day. He said school was too important to go hungry. I was so close to the high school that I could walk, picking up Nevaeh and Sally on the way.
