‘All right, then. But, Rhiannah, I want you at least to be back before the end of the lesson, okay?’
Rhiannah nodded quickly and said, ‘Of course, Mr Beagle.’
As we walked out, I could feel Charlotte and her friends watching me again.
I sneaked a glance at her and chanced a small smile. Her top lip curled up in a way that was definitely not smiling. Next to her, Inga rolled her eyes and whispered something in Charlotte’s ear that sounded very much like, ‘You were so lucky to get rid of her, Charlotte. She’s a freak.’
I felt my cheeks burn with shame.
Charlotte and her friends hated me and they thought I was a freak. And they didn’t even know everything. They didn’t even know the really freakish parts.
A few moments later, in the corridor, Rhiannah grabbed my arm and said, ‘So, what’s the matter, Tessa? Are we actually going to the sick room?’
‘I thought that’s where you were taking me,’ I replied, confused. That’s where Rhiannah had just told Mr Beagle she was taking me.
‘If that’s where you need to go, then that’s where I’m taking you,’ she said. ‘Do you feel a migraine coming on, or the flu or whatever?’
‘The flu?’
Another word I hadn’t heard before.
Rhiannah put her palm on my forehead. ‘No temperature,’ she said. ‘Are you achy? Is your throat sore? Does your head hurt?’
I thought of my back, which was still throbbing. I didn’t think that was the kind of ache that Rhiannah was talking about, and I didn’t think I had any of the other symptoms, so I shook my head. ‘No.’
‘Then you probably don’t have the flu. Worst luck for you. The flu gets you out of a whole week of school. Sometimes they even send you home, and if they don’t you get total star treatment. Ice cream and soup and lemon tea delivered straight to your room. You should’ve got flu.’
The way Rhiannah talked about it, I almost wished I did have this ‘flu’, even though the symptoms sounded quite horrid.
If it meant ice cream.
If it meant going home, which would mean, I supposed, going to you, Connolly, in Sandy Bay. I would still really have liked to do that.
‘It’s …’ I began, and then I didn’t know how to finish. My face felt all hot again. I didn’t know how to tell Rhiannah that my sickness was down there.
‘You can tell me, Tess!’ Rhiannah said, rolling her eyes. ‘Seriously, I’m the girl who had to wear an eye patch for three weeks because I got a piece of bark in my eye and it got infected and everybody called me “Jack Sparrow”. Embarrassing medical complaints I can handle, okay?’
‘It’s … wetness,’ I said, finally, feeling a wave of relief crash over me at having finally said it. ‘Between my legs.’
‘You got your period?’ Rhiannah’s voice was quieter now.
I didn’t know what to say. Did I have my ‘period’? I wasn’t sure. I did not recognise the word. So I just nodded. If that was the word that Rhiannah gave to what was happening to me, then that’s what was happening.
‘Well, why didn’t you just say so?’ asked Rhiannah. Then, her eyes widened. ‘It’s not your first one, is it?’
I nodded. Even though I wasn’t really sure. The wetness was beginning to feel familiar, but I still did not know what to do about it.
‘Whoa. Okay, that’s pretty late for a first period. But I guess everyone’s different. Okay, no sick bay for you. Let’s skedaddle to the ladies’. By an absolutely fabulous coincidence, I too am surfing the crimson wave, so I can be of assistance in the cleaning up department. What, don’t look at me like that! Yuck! I mean that I have tampons. You’re saved. Let’s get out of here.’
Just when I thought I was finally beginning to understand this new life I found myself in!
Periods.
Crimson waves.
Tampons.
So many words I did not know.
But I trusted Rhiannah, so I said, ‘Yes, please, let’s go.’
Later, in our room, Rhiannah showed me the ‘stockpile’ of
Michelle Rowen, Morgan Rhodes