Bonus Chapter 1
Math, I love the class, the way the numbers dance in my head, but it was the only one I didn’t have Wesley in.
I don’t know when it happened, but my feelings for him went from brotherly best friend to silently sneaking glances at him.
I spent most of my spare moments daydreaming about what it would be like to kiss him.
For him to be my first kiss, maybe even my last.
My stomach had been in knots all morning about the oral report I was giving in English.
I hate speaking in front of everyone, having their eyes on me.
I was part of the popular crowd, but it was because of Wesley, not me.
I know the only reason I was accepted was because of him.
I wasn’t rich, didn’t wear name brand clothes, but Wesley accepted me for me.
It’s why I believe I’m falling for him now.
I knew something was wrong the moment I sat down in my seat. At first, it was just a dull ache in my lower stomach, kind of like I had eaten something bad. Nerves, I kept telling myself.
I keep moving my body, trying to get comfortable in the hard, cold desk chair, but the ache only gets worse. It isn’t like a normal stomachache—it feels deeper, like something inside me is being squeezed and twisted.
I lower my hands under the desk and press them against my belly, hoping no one notices.
Mr. Thompson’s at the board, explaining some algebra equation that I’m not even trying to understand anymore.
My focus is completely on the weird, throbbing pain in my stomach.
It comes in waves—one second, it’s a dull ache, and the next, it’s a sharp pinch that makes me double over and wince.
Oh no.
It can’t be. Not here.
Mom had told me about my period and how I was getting close to the age I should start.
But here, at school, isn’t how I expected it to happen.
My heart starts to pound as I think back to the conversation I had with my mom a few months ago. She explained to me about cramps, that they come first and can feel like a tight ache in my lower belly. I just smiled at the time, fully believing that when it happened I’d be prepared.
But I’m not.
I swallow hard and glance around the room. No one’s looking at me, thank goodness. Everyone is busy taking notes or whispering between themselves.
I force myself to stay still, to try and pretend like nothing’s wrong. But the cramps are so uncomfortable. It feels like my insides are twisting up like a wet towel being wrung out. Every movement I make sends another wave of cramps coursing through my stomach.
Then panic sets in, bubbling up inside me like a burp festering to be released.
What if I bleed through my pants? What do I do if I stand up and everyone sees?
I clench my hands into fists under the desk. I need to get to the bathroom, but asking to go feels like admitting to everyone that something is wrong. I don’t want to be known as the girl who got her period in the middle of math class.
“Calm down, Sierra,” I mentally scold myself.
I take a deep breath, trying to think, remembering what my mom told me.
Heat! It’s supposed to help with cramps, but there was no way I could curl up with a heating pad at school.
Maybe if I just made it through this class, I could go to the nurse’s office.
Or at least the bathroom to check. But if I keep waiting, I risk blood seeping through my pants.
I have to do this.
Slowly, I raise my hand, clearing my throat.
“Mr. Thompson.”
The older man, with graying hair and a neatly groomed beard turns to face me, his eyes locking on to me, as he looks over the rim of his glasses. Ones that are perched skillfully at the bridge of his nose.
“Yes, Sierra.”
“I’m not feeling well. May I be excused to see the nurse?” I could’ve asked to go to the bathroom, but if I’ve leaked through my pants, I don’t want to have to come back to get my books. No way am I enduring a class full of kids laughing and pointing at my misfortune.
“Of course.” He steps over to his desk, picking up a pen and scribbles something on a piece of paper. “Here’s your pass. Make sure to look over chapter twelve and do the odd problems at the end.”
“Yes, sir.” I stand up from my desk, moving carefully, and gather my books before rushing out of the room. I only stop long enough to take the slip of paper from him.
I make it to the nurse's office without running into anyone.
“How can I help you, Sierra?” Nurse Beaker smiles softly, as she holds out her hand and takes the note from me.
“Um…” I adjust the books in my hand as I awkwardly shift my weight from side to side. “I, umm,” I lower my voice, not wanting anyone to overhear. “I’m having cramps. In my stomach. I think I started my period.”
“Oh, sweetie. Do you have anything with you? Have you gone to the bathroom and checked?”
I shake my head vehemently, unable to form the words to answer.
She stands from her desk and heads to the cabinet behind her.
When she turns around, she has something pink in her hand.
“Here, take this sanitary napkin and go to the bathroom. I’ll call your mom to come and get you.
You can leave your books here.” I take the tiny crinkly paper covered package from her, then set my books on the edge of her desk.
Taking a deep breath, I head to the bathroom, already feeling my face heat with embarrassment.
Periods suck!
If this is what it means to become a woman, I’ll stay firmly in the kid zone. It’s dirty, yucky, and hurts. Worst of all, Mom says I have to do this every month for at least a week. The joys of womanhood. More like the punishment.
A soft knock at my bedroom door pulls my attention. "Come in," I mumble, my voice muffled against the pillow. The door creaks open, and Mom pops her head inside, her gentle smile melting away my grumpy, sour mood.
"Honey, Wesley’s here to see you."
"Mom," I whine, pulling the blankets up higher, burying myself in their protective warmth. "I don’t want to see him."
She steps inside, shutting the door behind her.
When she speaks, her voice is soft but insistent.
"Sweetheart, he came all this way just to see you. He’s in the living room waiting.
Let him just come see you for a few minutes.
He’s really worried about you. Let him see you so he can put his mind at ease. "
I sigh, knowing this is a battle I won’t win. "Okay," I mutter, scooting up in bed, adjusting the heat pack on my stomach that Mom had given me. I make sure that it’s covered—I don’t want Wesley asking me any questions about it.
She smiles brightly before turning and leaving. I hear whispered voices echoing into the room. Wesley’s here and I’ve started my period. It’s both a blessing and a curse.
A few minutes later, the door opens again, and Wesley steps inside, a bag in hand. His eyes meet mine as he gives me that familiar, lopsided grin. "Hey, I heard you weren’t feeling great, so I brought you something."
I try to sit up straighter, forcing a small smile. "You didn’t have to do that."
"I know," he says, stepping closer, "but I wanted to. Can I sit down?” He gestures toward the bed with his head. I scoot over, making room for him on my small twin bed, making sure to keep covered with the blanket.
My heart races at having him this close. It shouldn’t bother me; he’s even slept over before, but things are different now. I’m a woman.
“I brought your homework, too. I know how much you hate to fall behind.” He sets the bag on the bed beside him, then reaches into his backpack and pulls out some papers. “I thought we could work on it together.”
“I’d like that.” My voice cracks as I speak. “What’s in the bag?” Curiosity takes over, getting the best of me. It’s not often, well never, that I’ve had the boy I’m crushing over bring me something.
His face turns bright pink, and he lowers his gaze. Is he blushing?
“I, um… I hope you don’t mind, but when I called, your mom didn’t tell me what exactly was wrong. I was upset, so I had my mom call her. She, umm... Yeah, she told—”
“Oh God, you know!” I squeal in embarrassment as I pull up the blanket in an attempt to cover my head. Why did my mom do that?
Wesley reaches out, taking hold of the blanket, and pulls it down, a warm and caring smile on his face.
“Don’t be embarrassed or mad, Sierra. I was worried about you.
My mom explained to me what was happening, and even told me some things that help.
Well, she says it helps her. So I got them for you. ”
Wesley pulls the bag in front of him, opening it and reaches inside. “My mom said heat was essential, so I have this heat thing you can warm up. It has something inside of it that's safe in the microwave and you can use it over and over. Want me to run to the kitchen and do it now?”
How did I get so lucky to have such a sweet best friend?
“Umm, I don’t need it right now.” The words stumble nervously out of my mouth.
“But my mom said that you’re probably having pretty bad cramps.”
How is he talking so calmly about my period and here I am having a heart attack over him knowing?
“My mom gave me a heating pad.” I lower the blanket low enough he can see.
“Cool. I also have some Midol. My mom swears by this and I got your favorite soda to wash it down with.” He opens the bottle, dropping two pills into his hand and gives them to me, before opening the soda.
I take them, using the cold sugary beverage to swallow them.
“Now the most important thing.” He reaches into the bag, a huge grin taking over his face. “Chocolate. I may have gone a little overboard.” I can’t help but laugh as he pulls out a bag of miniatures, then about six full size bars, all of them different.
“Wesley. You really didn’t have to.” I set the drink on the nightstand and lean forward, wrapping my arms around him. He slips his hands around my waist and holds me gently, but tight. We stay like that as I cry into his shoulder.
“Yes, I did. You’re my girl. My best friend. Nothing can keep me from taking care of you.”