Page 304 of Mad Girl

You grabbed my thigh, pulling me closer still. I almost rocked my hips against yours, but I figured that’d get me banished back to my sofa for sure. So I resisted.

Want something else true?

If it were possible to crawl inside a person and bask in the warm glow of their heart, I’d crawl inside you.

That’s what I thought as I drifted off to sleep, tucked safely in your arms. With my hand pressed to your chest, it felt like the essence of you was flowing into me, and for a little while, I wasn’t bad or broken or anything. Just whole, peaceful, and—for once in my life—perfectly content.

What a privilege it would be to feel like that forever.

Christmas morning, we were awoken by a noise.

We slowly untangled ourselves, but I got up too quickly, making myself dizzy, the floor rushing out from under me again. I went straight to the powder room, feeling emotionally hungover. Your thirteenth birthday rushed back, each devastating detail slicing through me anew, tears streaming down my face as I brushed my teeth over the marble pedestal sink.

My morning took a turn for the worse when my dad caught me trying to sneak upstairs. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I need to grab something from my room.”

“Not happening,” Nic said, reaching out to me. “Tell me what you need. I’ll get it.”

Your footsteps sounded behind me as you walked down. “What are you doing on the stairs?”

I closed my eyes. “I need something.”

“What is it?” you asked, taking my arm. You walked me down from the third step. The third step, Casey. “I’ll go grab it for you.”

While you both stared back at me and waited, I shifted uncomfortably, crossing my arms with a sigh. The discomfort must’ve been evident on my face, because you narrowed your gaze. To my dad, you said, “She maybe needs…you know.”

Nic blinked at you a moment before it dawned. “Oh. Yeah. Right.”

“Tampons,” I said. “My stupid tampons. Jesus Christ.”

Nic gave the end of my braid a gentle tug as he slipped past me for the stairs. “No problem. I’ll get them.”

I huffed all the way to the powder room, where I leaned inside the doorway, trying not to cry.

“Do you need anything else?” you asked, approaching slowly.

I stared past you, biting the insides of my cheeks. Being treated like an invalid sucked. “To go back in time and never walk down to the basement?”

“Hey,” you said softly, taking a strand of my hair between your fingers. “What if we put on a Christmas movie? Will that make you feel better?”

“I can’t watch a stupid movie. No screen time. Doctor’s orders.”

“It’s been long enough. Why don’t I make us a cup of tea? Light a fire?”

I nodded, the tears finally giving way—again. Honestly, I should’ve seen my period coming a mile away, even despite the head injury. “Can I also have some pain medicine?”

“Coming right up.” You planted a kiss on my forehead, your arm brushing mine as you headed for the kitchen.

A few minutes later, my dad handed me the box of tampons. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“I…don’t understand the question.”

“I’m glad Casey’s here for Christmas,” Nic said quietly, “but the last thing I want to see is him getting hurt.”

“Why would he⁠—?”

Your footsteps sounded close, cutting me off. I held the box of tampons in one hand while I plucked the pills from your palm with the other, followed by the water glass you offered me next. You guys watched me swallow the pills, a stern look of disappointment on my dad’s face. Not my favorite moment that Christmas.