Dulce

Aslanov stares at me before his eyes drift to Sarah, who grips the arms of the chair tightly.

“Is that what happened, Miss Anderson?”

“Yes, sir,” she answers.

“Alright. You can head out. Miss Sinclair, a word.”

I bite my lip and stay seated as Sarah stands up and looks at me to see if I need her to stay. She’s sweet. I really think we could be friends while I’m here.

“I’m fine. I’ll catch you later.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.” She waves before leaving, pulling the door tight behind her.

“So just to run over it one more time. You were argumentative in class.”

“I’m not argumentative.”

He looks at me for a moment before continuing.

“Then left school when you were told to wait. And then when you returned, it was with apologies because you got sick,” he says in a tone that says he knows it was utter bullshit.

“Look, Mr. Aslanov, I’m a girl, and three to five days out of the month, my womb attacks me with such force that it leaves me in a pool of my own blood. We had no supplies on us. To spare my humiliation, we went and bought some before heading back to get changed and then returned to wait outside Miss Smith’s classroom.”

“There are machines in the restrooms that contain feminine products.”

“No change. As nifty as this ID card is, you can’t use it to swipe for tampons. Which is crappy, by the way.” I throw that in because…well, it’s true.

“Right. I’ll aim to fix that. And how are you feeling now?”

“Weak, sleepy, and in need of chocolate.”

“Why don’t you go home and rest? I’ll have Sarah collect work from your classes for the day.”

“Really? That would be awesome, thank you.”

It means I can do some uninterrupted snooping.

“You can use my bedroom if you like, while nobody’s home. It will save you from having to pull the sofa out.”

Okay, that’s sweet. I almost feel bad about lying.

“A nap sounds really good about now. I’ll see you later?”

“Indeed.”