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"Violet!"

I shake my head even though Cassidy can't see me. The bathroom isn't locked, so she can come in if she wants, but no way am I getting up right now.

"Dinner is ready!"

Being brought to my butt by Mother Nature humbles me. I really need to be nicer to Cassidy. She's my best friend and always looks out for me. Hell, she tells me she loves me like a sister, and I've not once used the L word with her.

I'm stingy because the deeper the connection tosomeone, the more it will hurt when I eventually mess everything up.

A soft tapping on the door pulls me from my thoughts. "You okay in there?" my friend asks.

She sounds worried, and that brings tears to my eyes. Swallowing, I try to shove my emotions down. "Fine! I'll be out in a bit," I reassure her, hoping she'll leave me in peace.

Who am I kidding? There is no peace when the cramps from hell are twisting your insides around like a freaking noodle on a fork.

Cassidy's silent, but I don't hear her walk away. It makes me feel worse that she's hesitant to talk to me. Admittedly, my attitude has gotten worse since the holidays.

Mom and her husbands were great, but they were also worried about me. Mom's girlfriends were there on New Year’s Eve as well, and sometimes they ask too many questions. Many of those questions I chose not to answer which only fueled their concerns.

"Do you have water in there with you?" Cassidy's voice comes once again.

I frown, lift my head, and tuck my towel around me further.Where did I put my water?Remembering how I crawled out of bed this afternoon from my crappy nap, I pout. "Ugh, no. I think it's on my nightstand."

Now I hear her footsteps retreating from the other side of the door. Knowing Cassidy is most likely going to pamper me for the rest of the night, I stand and wrap myself in my purple robe. She doesn't need to see me naked right now. I'm bloated and feeling pale.

Am I getting sick on top of being on my damn period?

The messy French braid I refused to wash in the shower hangs down my back, and my eyes are half open. Looking in the mirror isn't an option, so I lean my butt against the counter and curl my arms around my tummy.

"This sucks," I murmur to myself as if I haven't struggled with horrible periods for over ten years.

"Knock knock! Coming in," Cassidy yells through the white wooden door and pokes her head in with a big smile.I miss when I smiled so freely.

"Hi," I whisper, throat thick. "Thank you." She hands over my favorite water bottle. State park stickers decorate the light purple sides.So pretty.

"That time again?" Cassidy asks, shifting around on her feet. She's nervous, and I feel the same. I know she wants to help me and comfort me, but she's holding back. I'm not very touchy these days. But, my goodness, I do want my friend to hug me.

Maybe...Maybe I can ask.

Just contemplating it makes a tear slip from my sleepy eyes. I nod in answer to her assumption. "My back hurts like I fell off a darn cliff and landed on a rock."

"I'll grab your heat pack from your room and bring it out to the living room. The casserole I made will help you feel all cozy and warm. Plus, I was planning on making thefunbrownies tonight."

I narrow my eyes at the bubbly redhead. Absentmindedly, I recognize I also used to talk a mile a minute like she just did, but there's no use in thinking about thepast when my uterus is currently trying to flee my body.

"Did you know it would start today?"

Cassidy shifts on her feet. "Well, maybe? The signs were all there. You get a little stabby a few days beforehand."

I can't help it; I laugh and it feels so freaking good. Cassidy beams at me and rushes forward to give me a big hug that I didn't consent to but needed so much.

"Violet," she whispers with her head on my shoulder. "I know the holidays are hard for you, and you have some stuff going on. But I'm here for you."

My laugh turns into a choked sob. Thankfully, she doesn't comment on it. I hold on to her tighter to show my appreciation and love. Because Idolove Cass. She's my best friend, and she's put up with all my bullshit for years now. How she isn't sick of me I'll never know.

"Thank you," I croak and pull away when she releases me.

As she exits my bathroom, she turns to say one last thing that I've never heard before. "The voices in your head aren't real. Nobody is saying the things you're listening to. Not all thoughts are facts."