I was talking to myself, out loud, in the bathroom stall like a full-blown crazy person and I didn’t even care. My phone was still in my hand, the period tracker app wide open, flashing that stupid red calendar in my face with the words missed and late and day 39 blinking like sirens. And I just kept staring at it like the numbers would change if I blinked hard enough. Like if I shook the phone or refreshed the app or restarted my entire f*****g life, it would somehow show a little pink dot that said, “Don’t worry, babe, you’re fine.”
But there was no dot.
There was no spotting.
There was no nothing.
And now I was standing in the bathroom with my underwear still around my thighs, one hand braced on the stall wall, the other holding my phone, and my heart pounding so fast I thought I wa
