Page 74 of The Equation of Us

Dean:Metoo.

Me:Everything’s okay. Just need a night to myself.

Actually, I might need 5-7 days by myself…

I set my phone down and head for the shower, hoping hot water will ease the cramps that are beginning to intensify. By the time I return to my room, wrapped in my robe with hair dripping, Sadie has arrived.

“Hey,” she says, looking up from her laptop. “I thought you’d be at Dean’s by now.”

“Change of plans,” I say, pulling on my comfort clothes—worn sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt. “Aunt Flo decided to visit.”

“Ah,” Sadie nods in understanding. “Does Dean know that’s why you canceled?”

I shake my head. “I just told him I wasn’t feeling well.”

“Which isn’t untrue,” she points out. “But why not just tell him the real reason?”

I shrug, settling onto my bed with my heating pad. “I don’t know. It feels… weird. We haven’t reached the period talk stage yet.”

Sadie rolls her eyes. “You’ve had his dick in your mouth, but you can’t tell him you’re menstruating? That’s some internalized patriarchal bullshit right there.”

I chuckle, shaking my head.

“It’s not that,” though maybe it is a little. “It’s just… I don’t know. Private.”

“Uh-huh.” She doesn’t look convinced. “And nothing else about your relationship with Dean is private?”

I throw a pillow at her, which she catches easily. “You’re not helpful.”

“I’m extremely helpful,” she counters. “I’m helping you realize your own emotional constipation.”

Before I can respond, my phone rings. Dean’s name lights up the screen.

“Speaking of emotional constipation,” Sadie says with a smirk.

I answer, trying to sound normal despite the cramps now twisting my insides. “Hey.”

“Hey,” his voice is low, concerned. “Are you sure everything’s okay? You never cancel last minute.”

“I’m fine,” I insist, catching Sadie’s judgmental look from across the room. “Really. Just not up for company tonight.”

“Are you sick? Do you need anything?” The genuine worry in his voice makes something warm unfurl in my chest, despite my discomfort.

“I’m not sick, I’m just—” I hesitate, then sigh. “I got my period, okay? I’m crampy and not feeling particularly sexy right now.”

There’s a brief silence on the other end. “That’s it? That’s why you canceled?”

“What do you mean ‘that’s it’?” I bristle slightly. “It’s a legitimate reason.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t,” he says quickly. “I just meant… you didn’t have to hide that from me. We could have just hung out. Watched a movie or something.”

“Oh.” I’m not sure why this surprises me. “I just thought…”

“That I’d be weird about it?” I can hear the slight amusement in his voice. “Nora, I grew up with a single mom and I’ve had plenty of girlfriends. Periods aren’t exactly a mystery to me.”

I feel my face heat with embarrassment. “Right. Of course.”

“So,” he continues, “can I still come over? I’ll bring that double chocolate ice cream you like from Miller’s.”

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