And just like that, we headed into the clubhouse, but not before Stella leaned in and said, “I want to know what’s going on.”
I sighed, then nodded, and while I cooked, I tried to think about a lie that she would believe.
And I hated it.
I hated lying for one thing.
I hated lying worst of all to Stella.
But I couldn’t tell her this. I just freaking couldn’t.
We had just finished getting everything done and ready, and just in time, too.
Because the masses were hungry.
I had just carried one dish to the bar top.
Since it was cold outside, we wouldn’t be eating outside like we did nine times out of ten.
Once I set the dish on the bar top, I tilted my head, and at that feeling, I winced, then raced to the bathroom.
Why, oh, why didn’t I check my app before I left the house?
I bought a brand-new box yesterday, knowing it was getting close to time for my period.
Pulling my phone out of my back pocket, I opened my messages to Stella.
Me –Do you have any tampons?
I sat there and waited.
And waited.
And freaking waited.
And when she didn’t respond, I texted Gabby.
Gabby was short for Gabriella.
She was one of the new club girls the club had hired, and I adored her.
She was older than me by at least three years, but she was awesome.
Me –Hey, do you have any tampons?
Thankfully, she responded quickly.
Gabby –No. Sorry. I used my last one a few days ago. Stella?
Me –She hasn’t texted me back yet.
I sat there and waited.
My phone buzzed then.
Gabby –Stella’s phone died. But she doesn’t have any.
I shook my head; this was going to be torture.