Page 93 of Conner's Luna

When Velia's mom enfolds me in her embrace as if I'm one of her kids, too, it's all I can do to not start sobbing. Velia's mom must sense it (because moms can do that) and she hugs me tighter before letting go. Wrapping one arm around my waist and the other around Velia, she starts walking us to the door.

I take the opportunity to look over the house. It's beautiful with special little touches everywhere. The dusting of snow covering everything makes it look positively magical. As we walk inside I see several sets of handprints sunk into concrete paving stones lining the walkway. One little pawprint has the name 'Conner' inscribed next to it.

I burst into tears. "L-look at how small he was!" I explain myself in a wail.

"Oh, sweetie. Let's get you fed," Velia's mom hustles me into the house as fast as she can. Inside, a beautiful man greets us with worry in his gorgeous blue eyes.

Wolf-people are annoyingly pretty (I would like to lodge a complaint).

"Mina? Hey, sweetie-pie," he greets Velia with an absent-minded kiss on her forehead and gives Velia's mom a swift kiss on the mouth. His eyes don't leave me. "Hi, I'm Blu," he says gently.

I start hiccupping because all I need is to embarrass myself in front of Conner's family even more. "Bailey," I choke out. I mean, I understand how tonight has been rough, but it's as if -

Oh. No.

"I'm starting my period," I announce. I receive blank stares in return until it seems to dawn with Velia.

"Oh! Shit. Mom... Bailey is starting her period."

I just said that.

"Okay," Velia's mom says slowly. She and Velia's... I'm guessing her Papa?.. Look at each other in confusion.

"Wolf-people don't menstruate."

"Um... wolf-people, Bailey?" Velia says in shock, but I'm far beyond the ability to pay attention.

"You don't have periods. That is absolutely a primal difference!" My fingers twitch with the urge to take notes. "Females have reproductive systems that are biologically suited for the best possible chances of producing healthy offspring. This is incredible! Wait..." I flap my hands, so agitated that I nearly knock my own glasses off of my face. "Do you have heat cycles?"

"She's smart," Velia's papa, Blu, states matter-of-factly. To his daughter he adds, “Dad texted us that she figured it out.” Velia smirks.

"You do," I breathe. "How often? What are the symptoms? How long are your pregnancies? What is the percentage of multiple-births? Do you have similar ovulation cycles during your heat?"

A terrible thought occurs to me, "how compatible are the species? You must be a different species. At least a separate subspecies. That means I can't... I c-can't have Conner's b-babies..." I sob "...in approximately ten to twelve years before I turn thirty because it reduces the chances of several types of cancer. Velia, I can't - God, I hate my period!" I scream a little.Conner's babies?!Shut up, Bailey!

Velia is laughing at me while her mom and papa stare at me in helpless bemusement. It's not funny. My body is aching already, my lower back worst of all. I'm sure the car ride up here didn't help. If my body stays true-to-form I'll be paddling along the red river in just an hour.

"What do you need from the store?" Mr. Blu - Papa - ha-ha like Papa Smurf - asks nicely.

"I'll write a list," Velia says, eyeing my pale face with worry as her humor fades. "Bailey, are you alright?"

"I'm sickeningly regular," I tell her. "I can't believe I forgot it. I only have about forty-five minutes before I curl up in a ball and die."

"Okay, that's very dramatic. Are you still drunk?"

"Were you girls drinking?" Papa Smurf eyeballs us. "Velia youdrove."

"I wasn't," Velia says, hustling me towards the stairs. "I'll text you the list, Papa! Let me settle Bailey in before she's too tired and hurt to do it. You should start driving now."

"They were drinking," I hear Velia's papa mutter to her giggling mom.

"C'mon, grumpy. Go to the store. I'm going to grab a heating pad and something soothing to drink. Poor girl. I'll call Meghan and see what she suggests," Velia's mom says as we walk out-of-sight.

The problem with large houses is the number of stairs. By the time I've climbed Mt. Stairest to reach Conner's opulent, yet under-stated bedroom, I'm ready for my pity-party of one to start.

"I'd like to shower. It helps," I tell Velia. Cramps are here, Auntie Flo is sure to follow.

"Stay in as long as you like," Velia shows me the ensuite bathroom. "I'll grab some comfy clothes. Hopefully, Papa's back before you're done in the shower."

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