Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 101662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“You think I want to be in here?” he grumbled. I hated the sound of his voice, and I hated how it squeaked every now and then, too. Some days, Gabriel’s voice sounded like a five-year-old’s, and others like a fifty-year-old’s. And in between those two, he sounded like my favorite thing in the world. I didn’t understand that part, yet. But sometimes his voice made me feel safe.
“If you don’t want to be here, then just go,” I ordered.
“I am,” he stated, but I noticed his feet not moving at all.
“No, you’re not.”
“Yeah, I am just… Here,” he spat out, holding his hand beneath the bathroom stall. In his hand was a duffel bag.
“What’s that for?”
“I had some clean stuff I was gonna wear after football practice. Some sweats and boxers. I figured you might want it. I stuffed some of those pad things in there, too. My mom had some extras in her car.”
My chest tightened as I froze. Was he…offering me his clothes? So I wouldn’t have to walk out of the locker room completely embarrassed? Was he helping me out?
“Is this some kind of trick?” I asked.
“Look, if you don’t want the freaking clothes, then fine. I’ll take them bac—”
Before he could rescind his offer, I leaped from the toilet seat and snatched the bag from his grip. I held it close to my chest, uncertain what to say. I combed my hair out of my face and opened my mouth to speak, but before I could, Gabriel’s feet disappeared. The locker room door opened and shut quickly after, showing that he pretty much darted out of the room.
The tears kept falling from my eyes as I changed into Gabriel’s clothes. I wore his briefs, slapped the pad on them, slipped into his black sweatpants, and then tossed on his football shirt with our school logo on it.
After calming myself enough to exit the locker room, I hurried out to the parking lot, where Dad was waiting to pick me up.
The moment he saw me, he arched an eyebrow. “Whose clothes are those?” he asked me.
My cheeks heated as I slid into the passenger seat and snapped my seat belt on quickly. “It doesn’t matter. Drive, Dad.”
He shook his head. “Those are boy’s clothes. Kierra Elizabeth Hughes, why are you wearing—”
“I got my Aunt Flo, Dad!” I shouted at him, bursting into tears. Even with the change of clothes, I still felt humiliated and tired, and in a hurry to leave the school premises as soon as possible. The last thing I needed was my father asking me why I was wearing some boy’s clothes. I was still traumatized from the past fifteen minutes, which felt as if they’d lasted for fifteen years. I couldn’t believe that I’d have to return to school the following day. If anything, I should’ve been online finding a one-way ticket to Iceland or something.
Dad still didn’t drive. He just did that dad thing that dads did when they appeared completely clueless to the reality around them. “Wait, why are you crying? What does that even mean, Kier—”
“My period, Dad!” I said as I tossed my hands in the air in complete defeat. “I got my period in the middle of practice, and everyone saw it on my white uniform, and now I am humiliated and need you to drive right now because I need to get as far away from this place as possible.”
Dad blinked a few times as he gripped the steering wheel. “Ohhh.” He nodded. “Got it. Now look, Kierra. I know this is more of a mother-and-daughter conversation that should take place. But I want you to know that getting your period is a beautiful, natural thing and—”
As he spoke, a few girls walked past the car and pointed at me, giggling.
I leaned toward him and slammed my hands on his shoulders. “Dad, please. This is not the moment for you to be all awesome and girl-dad, okay? I need you to drive.”
“Right, okay, let’s go.” He put the car into drive and I slunk deeper into the leather seat of his car, wishing that I could melt into the fabric and never be seen again.
After we got to the house, I hurried inside with the duffel bag and shot straight past Mom in the direction of my bedroom.
“Well, hello to you, too, Kierra. Are you—” Mom started, but I didn’t stop at all.
As I hurried away, I heard Dad say, “She got her Aunt Flo today.”
I slammed my door shut quickly before I could hear anything else.
***
“What is it?” Gabriel asked, opening his bedroom window that I’d been pounding on for the past minute or so.
I shoved the duffel bag his way. “Here.”
“Oh. Thanks.” He scratched at the back of his neck. “You all right?”
“Why do you care?”