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"Val, didn't you have to go to the principal's office before class? I can take you there, if you want?"
"Thanks." She grins and asks Quaid to give her backpack. Quaid’s face falls for a split-second, but then his brace-filled grin makes yet another appearance, looking right as rain.
"Okay. No worries. I’ll see you in class and save you a seat,” he hollers while I take Val's hand to lead her to the administration office.
She waves goodbye at them over her shoulder, and even though my back is to them, I can still feel Carter’s smug grin and Quaid’s stare burning holes on my back. When we reach the principal’s office, Val is told to go inside.
“I’ll wait here for you,” I tell her.
I know I should get myself to class, but a tardy slip isn't going to keep me from taking Val to class so she doesn't get lost. The receptionist looks me up and down from her glasses every once in a while, most probably because I can't keep my leg from bouncing up and down. When Val finally leaves the principal's office, she is as white as a ghost.
What the fuck happened in there?
"Val, are you okay?" I rush to be at her side.
"I have to go home," she says with tears sparkling in her eyes.
"Why?"
“I just have to go,” she stutters adamantly, running to the door, and then picking up speed through the hallway.
"Val! Wait up!" I yell, running after her, but she’s so far ahead, I doubt she even hears me calling.
When we get outside, I quicken my pace and hold out my hand to grab hers. I turn her around, and Val is bawling her eyes out.
"What the fuck did Principal Trott do to you?!" I yell, holding her close while her tears dampen my shoulder.
She shakes her head from left to right, clinging onto me. The closest to a murderer's instinct I had was blowing shit up on my video games, but seeing Val cry like this has woken a different kind of animal in me. One that would maim, hurt, and kill whoever caused her sadness. I'll kill Mr. Trott for whatever he said that made Val run out of his office in tears this way.
"Val,” I whisper in her ear when she doesn't calm down. "Tell me what's wrong? How can I fix it?"
"You can't," she wails. "God, I'm so embarrassed."
"For what?"
She cranes her head back, her eyes puffy and red, as she wipes her wet cheeks with her palms.
"I ruined his chair."
"Huh?" I ask, completely confused.
“I said I ruined his chair,” she repeats, still not making any sense.
I'm desperately trying to add everything together, but I’m coming up stumped. She throws her arms in the air and turns around, her head over her shoulder, looking down at her butt.
“When I got up, I saw that his chair was red.” She sniffles, pointing to the big circle on her shorts.
“Oh.”
“I got my period, Logan. On the first day of school, I got my period!" she wails, clasping her hands over her face in shame. I pull them away.
"So what? It’s perfectly normal."
She looks at me like I just grew two heads.
“What? It is,” I repeat, cleaning her tears with the pads of my thumbs.
“You don’t get it. I've never had my period before, and now on my first day of school, I ruined the principal’s chair. How am I going to live that down?” she stammers between hiccups.
