Access Denied (and other eighth grade error messages) (17 page)

I CAME DOWNSTAIRS MONDAY MORNING just as my mom stepped out of the guest bathroom.

“Erin, have you seen my silver Celtic knot earrings?” My dad had given her the earrings for their tenth anniversary. They
were her favorites. “I could have sworn I took them off in this bathroom on Saturday because I wanted to polish them. But
they’re not anywhere in there.” She frowned. “I hope they didn’t slip into the toilet and get flushed away.”

“I’m sure they just fell behind something,” I said. “Or maybe they’re upstairs.”

“I’ve checked everywhere.” She rubbed her lips together. “Did Reede use that bathroom when she was here?”

I narrowed my eyes. “What? You think she took them?”

“Erin!” My mom’s voice rose. “I just thought maybe she’d seen them.”

“Well, I’m not going to ask her,” I said.

“Why not?”

Was my mom really this dense? “Because she’d think we thought she took them.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Erin.” My mom shook her head and walked away, leaving me standing alone in the hall.

*   *   *

When we got to school, Jilly went to talk to a teacher and I headed for my locker. As I reached for my backpack, I felt something
funny. Not funny, actually. Damp. In my underwear. Was I peeing my pants without even knowing it?

Oh. My. God.

Unzipping my backpack, I reached into the secret pocket where I had stashed my PEK.

It was empty.

Then I remembered I had taken everything out of my backpack when I was cleaning it. I must not have put the PEK back in.

I glanced around but didn’t see anybody I really knew.

Bathroom.
Fast.

I walked as quickly as you can when you are squeezing your thighs together and trying to squeeze other things together so
nothing else comes out, even if you’re not sure it will help because if they covered that in health class you sure don’t remember
it.

“You got something stuck up your butt?” Tyler asked as I passed him.

“Shut up,” I said, and kept going. I pushed into the girls’ bathroom and glanced at the machine—OUT OF ORDER. Surprise. I
hurried to a stall, just as Serena came out of another one. She smiled at me and stepped to the sink.

I closed the stall door and sat on the toilet. My white underwear was stained a brownish-red. I checked the crotch of my jeans.
There was a small stain on them. I looked at the outside of the jeans and breathed a sigh of relief. It hadn’t leaked through.

Okay, now what? I knew the main office kept supplies but I couldn’t risk going all the way down there without some kind of
protection.

I glanced around, as if someone might have left an unused pad just for me. Nothing. My eyes fell to the toilet paper. Okay.
I’d have to improvise. I pulled a bunch of toilet paper off the roll, folded it, and placed it in my underwear. As I pulled
up my underwear, half the toilet paper unrolled and flopped out onto the floor. Great. I sat back down.

“So, Swift. Are you taking the biggest dump in the world, or what?”

I’d forgotten Serena was still out there.

“No!” The thought made me momentarily forget why I was in the bathroom in the first place. I would NEVER do that at school.
What could be more embarrassing than stinking up the bathroom and having other people know it was you?

The door opened, but didn’t close; someone was holding it open.

“Erin?” Rosie said. “I saw you rush down the hall. Are you okay?”

“She’s taking the world’s biggest dump,” Serena said. “The Guinness Book people are on their way.”

“I’m not taking a dump!” I said.

“Thanks for the news flash,” some girl said, and my cheeks burned. I heard the stall on the far end open and close. She obviously
wasn’t taking any chances.

“I was just kidding, Erin,” Serena said before she left.

Rosie laughed. “Well, if you’re okay, I’m going to get to class.”

“Wait!”

But she was already gone.

I unrolled more toilet paper, folding it carefully this time. After laying the “pad” in my underwear, I took another long
piece of toilet paper and wrapped it around the pad and the bottom of my underwear a few times, like I was wrapping my ankle
before a game. Then I tucked the loose end under the pad to hold everything in place.

Not bad. I pulled up my underwear and zipped and buttoned my jeans. It seemed to stay put. I turned and saw a few drops of
blood in the toilet. I flushed, watching the brownish water disappear, feeling oddly sad that this was happening to me while
I was alone, in a bathroom stall at school, with no one to tell.

Stepping out, I washed my hands, turning around to make sure you couldn’t see any stains or bulges from the TP pad. Everything
looked okay. It felt funny to have that bulk in my underwear but it was better than having leaks. I stared at myself in the
mirror, trying to see if I looked any different. As I turned my face to one side, I wrinkled my nose.

News flash girl was taking a dump.

I decided to go to the office for supplies after language arts so I wouldn’t have to explain a late arrival. But all during
class I could feel things happening down there and I couldn’t concentrate. Was it leaking out? Was it staining my jeans? Would
people see?

“Erin? What do you think?”

I glanced up. Ms. Fehrmann had her eyebrows raised in a question.

I think I just had my first period and I’m freaking out a little bit.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m not sure.”

“Did you read the story?”

What story? I knew I had read something last night but I couldn’t remember what it was.

“You have absolutely no opinion on it?”

Clearly I
should
have an opinion on it.

“Lottery,” Jilly coughed.

Lottery?

Oh. Right. We’d read “The Lottery” by Shirley Jackson. I remembered now. Who wouldn’t? It was a weird, creepy story.

“I thought it was weird that everyone would go along with something so random,” I said. “Maybe it was the law or tradition
or whatever but when the winner of a lottery is stoned to death, it’s time to take another look, don’t you think?”

“Nice recovery, Erin,” Ms. Fehrmann said. “With a little help from your friends.” She glanced at Jilly, who was busy turning
pages in her book.

After class, I stayed in my seat until everyone had left.

“Come on, Erin,” Jilly said, heading for the door. “You’re going to be late.”

“Jilly, I—”

Jilly stopped and turned around. “What?” She tilted her head. “Are you okay?”

I shook my head and Jilly hurried over. “What is it?”

“I got it,” I whispered, even though there was no one in the room.

“Got what?” Jilly asked.

“IT,” I said. My period. I had my period. Me, Erin Penelope Swift. Finally.

Jilly’s eyes grew wide. “Omigod! Are you serious? When? Where were you? Do you feel any different? Did it hurt? Are you using
a tampon? Does anyone else know?”

“Shhh,” I said, then explained what I’d done in the bathroom.

“That’s pretty smart,” she said. “I’ll have to remember that.”

“It would be better to always have supplies,” I said. “But I need your help.”

“Name it.”

“Tell me if it’s showing through.” I stood up and walked down the aisle as Jilly examined my backside.

“I thought I saw something but it’s underneath so I don’t think anyone will notice.”

“Good.” But I pulled my black hoodie over my head and tied it around my waist so it hung down past my butt, just in case.

Jilly picked up her books and hugged them to her chest. “Wow,” she said. “You got it.”

The words “before me” hung in the air between us.

“Yours will come soon,” I said. “Then we can borrow supplies from each other.”

Jilly smiled. “You know that when women live together, their cycles will start to be in sync. That’s what happened with my
sisters and my mother.”

“Weird,” I said, wondering if my mom and I would ever sync up. “Well, I’d better get to the office.” I grabbed my books. “Jilly?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

She smiled. “Anytime.”