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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.