Chapter Thirty-Four

It’s proposal time for Marisol. Wednesday afternoon, as classes let out, I lead her to the courtyard where Ari (with the help of Sophie) has strung a sun-and- cloud garland between two trees and hung a sign painted in perfect calligraphy that reads MI LUZ DEL

SOL

MY WORLD REVOLVES AROUND YOU.

Marisol squeals loudly when she sees how beautiful it looks, and even I have to gasp when Ari gets down on one knee and presents her with a golden crown that looks like the rays of a sun.

“My sun, my light, my love—wil l you join me at the Fall Fest?” Ari asks.

“Of course I will, babe!” Marisol squeals, pulling Ari to her feet and into a kiss.

Sophie and I cheer as Ari gingerly places the glittering gold crown on Marisol’s head. It glints in the sun, as if she were born to wear it.

I’m beaming at them until I feel a familiar sensation, like I’ve just gotten my period— a rem inder that my body calls the shots, not me.

Right now? Seriously?

With my friends in full celebration mode, I don’t want to ruin this moment and instead excuse myself and rush off to the bathroom. In my panic, I grab nothing. Not my backpack with its emergency tampons and pads. Not my purse, which might have some change so I can buy some from the machine in the restroom. And, of course, thanks to one parent who took major offense to free period products being offered in all bathrooms in school, the school removed the items entirely.

In the stall, I survey the damage and see that bright red blood has already seeped into the seam of my underwear. Of course my first period in months is going to be the equivalent of a torrential downpour. With little choice, I wad up some toilet paper to create a makeshift pad until I can waddle to the nurse’s office for a tampon.

As I wash my hands at the sink, the door to the restroom opens. Of all the hundreds of Elmwood students it could be, it’s Destiny. Her microbraids are swept up into a half bun on top of her head and she’s wearing a sporty T- shir t under some distressed overalls, which looks super cute.

I give her a tig ht-lipped smile. The kindness in the one she returns causes shame to leaden my chest. Maybe I shouldn’t have been flirting so much with the guy she’s talking to. Or dating? It’s unclear, actually.

“Hi,” she says brightly.

I toss my paper towel in the trash. “Hi. You’re Destiny, right?”

As if I haven’t stalked her on social media.

She looks over at me. “Hi . . . Wh itney, right?”

I nod. “Sorry to bother you, but do you happen to have an extra tampon on you?”

“Oh my God, girl, of course! Hang on.” She reaches into the canvas bag slung over her shoulder and feels around until she finds what she’s looking for. When her hand comes back out, she’s holding a tampon, as promised.

I reach for it as if it’s the most precious item in the world. “Thank you so, so, so much. You just saved my life.”

She laughs at that. “It’s no problem at all. We’ve all been there. You want me to check you?”

My gaze falls to the mustard- colored skirt I’m wearing. I would hope I didn’t bleed through, but you never know. “Could you?”

“Of course!” Destiny says, and I turn around. “You’re all good.”

I breathe a sigh of relief, turning back to her. “And I’ll be even better thanks to this.” I smile at her— a rea l smile this time— grateful. “Thank you again. I owe you.”

She waves a hand like it’s nothing. “Don’t even worry about it.”

“I love your outfit, by the way.”

At this, her face lights up. “I sewed it myself.”

“What? That’s amazing!” I gush.

“Thank you,” she says, readjusting her bag on her shoulder. “I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah, for sure!”

And then Destiny and her radiant kindness are gone, and I’m left feeling like a real piece of garbage for being so jealous of her.