I was too shocked to speak, but I nodded and moved my chair a little to give him space.
He smiled and sat down, then unzipped his sweatshirt and handed it to me. “Put this on.”
I didn’t understand what was going on. Not only had Luke Carlton chosen to sit next to me, he’d given me his sweatshirt. But I certainly wasn’t going to argue with him—if Luke Carlton wanted me to wear his sweatshirt, I would. I slipped it on and it smelled delicious, musky and masculine. It was still warm from his body, and even though it was far too big, I wanted to wear it forever.
And then Luke leaned in until his lips were inches from my ear.
“You have a stain on your jeans,” he whispered. “Go to the washroom, the sweatshirt should cover your butt.”
I wished the floor would open and swallow me up. I had my period, and I must have bled through my pants. I could feel a hot blush spreading across my cheeks.
“I’ll get blood on your sweatshirt,” I whispered, as I started to pull my arms out of it.
“It’s a red shirt,” he whispered with a shrug. “Leave it on.”
I nodded and glanced around the room, wondering how many people had noticed.
Luke leaned in again. “Relax,” he said, his breath warm in my ear. “No one else noticed. It’s a small spot.”
I continued to sit there stupidly, too mortified to move or speak, and he leaned in yet again. “Do you have what you need? It’s not your first period, is it?”
That was enough to spur me to action. I couldn’t believe I was having a conversation about my period withLuke Carlton, and I couldn’t endure another minute of it. I stood and pulled down his sweatshirt, and as he had promised, it covered my butt. The teacher was getting ready to start the class, but mercifully, he didn’t stop me on my way out of the room.
I stopped at my locker for supplies and hustled to the washroom. Luke was right that the spot was small. My maxi pad had twisted, but my panties weren’t badly stained. Once I replaced the pad, the stain on my jeans was unlikely to get worse.
But that still left the problem of the stain on my jeans. I vowed that from this day on, I would keep a spare pair of pants in my locker, and panties too, for just such an emergency. But for today, unless I wanted to fake sick and go home, I’d have to keep Luke’s shirt.
I studied myself in the washroom mirror until I’d convinced myself that the sweatshirt fully covered the stain, then made my way back to class and slipped into the seat next to Luke. He was focused on the teacher, taking notes from the board.
“Thanks, Luke,” I muttered as we packed up our books at the end of class. “I’ll wash it, of course?—”
“Keep it,” he said easily. Mentally, I kicked myself. Of course he wouldn’t want it back if there was a chance I’d bled on it. I opened my mouth to offer to buy him a new sweatshirt, but he spoke before I could.
“It looks good on you.” He winked, so quickly Ithought I’d imagined it, then picked up his textbook and walked out.
I thought that would be the end of it; he’d done his good deed for the week. Guys like Luke were supposed to hang out with girls who were equally attractive and accomplished. Girls who were in their league. I’ve always been an introvert, so although I had friends, I wasn’t overly popular. I was good at math and science, but in the middle of the class in the other subjects. I’d squeaked onto the cross-country team, but I was never the star, and I knew I never would be.
But the next day Luke sat next to me again, and the day after that he asked if I wanted to come over to his house to study together. The following week, he asked me on an actual date, and his mom drove us to the movies.
It was my first date, and the first of many firsts I experienced with Luke Carlton. He gave me my first kiss when he walked me back to the door after the movie date. That was a fairly chaste peck, with our mouths closed, but the first kiss with tongue came a week later. I waited two years after that to give him my virginity, and I was his first, too.
Looking back, I don’t know how we managed to wait as long as we did. If I’d known how good it was going to be, it would have happened a lot sooner.
Given all this, you might ask why I broke up with him. The short answer is I had a moment of temporary insanity, but the long answer is more complicated.
My stomach growls, and I realize I haven’t eaten since breakfast. One of the nurses brought Liam a cheese sandwich and a box of apple juice when we were in the ER, so at least I don’t have to worry that my child is starving. And I know a little fasting won’t hurt me.
Except I’m still really hungry, so I finally cave andspend two dollars on a pack of Reese’s peanut butter cups from the vending machine in the corner.
I offer a peanut butter cup to Olivia, which she politely declines, and then one to Troy, which he declines as well. I don’t meet his eye, not wanting to see the judgment there. I know what he thinks about my sweet tooth.
Come on, Melissa, you know you let yourself go . . .
Troy threw this gem at me when I first found out about Olivia, as a justification for his affair. Ironically, he was trying to convince me to stay in our marriage (he’d vowed the affair was done), but it had the opposite effect. And a year later, the comment still stings.
Never mind that I’d managed to lose all but ten pounds of the baby weight I put on with Liam. Never mind that although I have a sweet tooth, I’d resisted temptation more often than I’d indulged. Never mind that I’d rarely skipped a day on the treadmill in our basement. I felt like I’d worked my ass off.
But I guess I hadn’t really worked my ass off, because it was still too big for Troy’s liking. And despite the fact that an internet calculator told me that I was at a healthy weight, I wasn’t good enough. Troy’s infidelity wasn’t his fault, it was mine, becauseI had let myself go.
