Aria sat on the closed toilet lid, hunched over, arms wrapped tightly around her stomach. The bathroom smelled like mildew and old shampoo, and the flickering light overhead buzzed faintly. She stared down at the stained fabric of her underwear, panic tightening in her chest.

She didn’t want to call for their mom.

Their mom wouldn’t help. She’d just mumble something, maybe throw a roll of toilet paper at her before going back to sleep.

Aria squeezed her eyes shut. What do I do?

A knock at the door made her jump. “Aria?”

Mason.

Her face burned. No way. She couldn’t ask him. He was sixteen. A boy. He’d think it was gross.

But she didn’t have anyone else.

“…Go away,” she muttered.

The door didn’t open, but she could hear Mason shift his weight. “You’ve been in there forever. You sick or something?”

She stayed silent.

Mason sighed. “Look, if you clogged the toilet, just say so.”

That made her huff, but the small moment of annoyance wasn’t enough to stop the weight pressing on her chest. She wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans, took a deep breath, and forced herself to say it.

“I—I think I just got my period.”

Silence.

Then: “…Oh.”

She buried her face in her hands. This is so humiliating.

The door creaked slightly as Mason leaned against it. “Uh. Okay. Uh…” He sounded weird—off-balance in a way she’d never heard before. Mason always had an answer, always knew what to do. But now he just cleared his throat awkwardly.

“…Do we even have—y’know. Pads?” he asked after a second.