April 27th
So… today was weird. And by weird, I mean huge. Like, life-changing huge. And honestly? I still can’t believe it happened.
It started during math class. We were reviewing fractions (ugh) and Mr. Brenner was droning on about dividing pizza slices or something, which, let’s be real, just made me hungry. At first, I thought the stomach ache I was getting was because I skipped breakfast. Rookie mistake. But then the cramping got worse. Like, curl-up-in-a-ball worse. I kept shifting around in my seat, trying to find a way to sit that didn’t feel like my insides were getting twisted into balloon animals. It wasn’t working.
And then… I felt it.
At first, it was just this weird sensation. Warm, kind of. I froze. My brain went full-blown panic mode. No way. No freaking way.
I did the world’s slowest, sneakiest glance down.
And there it was. A tiny red stain on the chair.
I don’t even remember what happened next. I think I mumbled something about needing to go to the nurse, but I was moving before anyone said anything. Grabbing my bag, holding my sweater behind me like some kind of butt-cape, and bolting out of there like I was running from a zombie apocalypse.
The nurse’s office was, thank everything, empty. Mrs. Sanders was at her desk typing on the computer, and she smiled when I came in. “What’s wrong, Mollie? Stomachache?”
I couldn’t even talk at first. Just kind of nodded and shuffled over. When she saw my face—because I guess I must’ve looked freaked—she got serious fast. “Let’s get you into the bathroom, okay?”
I went. She handed me one of those little white pads in the wrapper that’s all crinkly and weird. She even gave me a clean pair of those awful mesh school shorts to wear home (bless her). I sat there for a few minutes after, trying to process it. Like… this was it. It finally happened.
I texted Mom:
“Um. I think I got my period.”
She texted back instantly:
“I’ll come get you. Ice cream on the way home?”
I texted back:
“Double scoop.”
By the time Mom showed up, I felt a little better. She gave me a hug in the car and handed me one of those little period starter kits with pads and chocolate and even a heat pack. (Moms are magic, seriously.)
Hillary found out the second we got home. She popped her head out of her room, spotted the bag Mom was carrying, and smirked.
“Welcome to the club,” she said, like she’d just initiated me into some secret society or something.
I rolled my eyes, but honestly? It kind of felt like that.
I spent the rest of the afternoon on the couch with a heating pad and a giant bowl of ice cream, watching dumb TV and thinking about how I finally—finally—felt like I was catching up.
My body’s been stuck on pause for so long. Everyone else was moving on—getting taller, changing, growing up.
And now…
It’s starting for me, too.
Slowly. Awkwardly. But finally.
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