Anything but Normal - Melody Carlson [28]
“Do you want to go back to class now?”
“Not really.”
“Yeah, I don’t blame you. It’s probably pretty embarrassing.” Justina brightened. “Want me to get your stuff for you?”
Sophie considered this. It’s not like she could just skip out on class and expect no consequences. What if someone called her parents? The last thing she needed was for them to be questioning her.
“I can tell Mr. Young that you’re not feeling good.”
Sophie nodded. “Yeah, would you do that?”
“If you go to the counselor and tell her you have a bad case of PMS, she’ll write you an excuse.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. I had to do that once. Actually, this girl had teased me, and, well, I was already having a crappy day and I kind of fell apart. But Mrs. Phelps was really nice about it. She’s really understanding.”
Sophie waited in the restroom while Justina returned to get Sophie’s things. She wondered what exactly Justina would say to Mr. Young. Hopefully she wouldn’t mention hormones or PMS. And what if Wes asked what was up? What would Justina tell him?
As embarrassing as it would be, maybe the smartest thing would be for Sophie to simply return and face the music. She could make a joke about it. Act like she’d been so touched by being asked to be chief editor that she’d gotten emotional. Of course, then she’d need to respond to the offer. Was she willing to be chief editor? Would it be better to just pass? Or would that draw even more unwanted attention?
“Here you go.” Justina handed Sophie her bag and the hoodie that she’d left behind.
“Thanks.” Sophie pulled on her sweatshirt and looped the strap of her bag over her shoulder.
“Mr. Young asked me to escort you.”
“Escort me?” Sophie frowned.
“Yeah. I made it sound like you were sick. I didn’t think you’d want me to mention PMS, you know?”
Sophie nodded. “Oh yeah, thanks.”
“So I’ll just walk you there, okay?”
So Justina Coughlin escorted Sophie to the counseling center. She felt like she was about six years old when Justina knocked on Mrs. Phelps’s door and introduced Sophie. “She’s having really bad PMS,” Justina said in an undertone. “I told her you could help.”
Mrs. Phelps smiled and waved Sophie in.
“Thanks,” Sophie said crisply to Justina, as if she could handle it from here. Once Justina was gone, Sophie closed the door and sat down in the chair across from Mrs. Phelps, letting out a big sigh.
“Having a hard day?” Mrs. Phelps asked.
“Make that a hard life.”
Mrs. Phelps removed her reading glasses and peered curiously at Sophie. “Want to talk about it?”
Now Sophie regretted her previous statement.
“I know that hormones can play havoc with our emotions sometimes.” Mrs. Phelps pushed a strand of auburn hair behind an ear and sighed. “Trust me, I know.”
Sophie nodded. “Yeah, I kind of lost it in journalism.”
Her brows lifted slightly. “Did you let someone have it?”
“Not exactly. I kind of fell apart and started to cry.”
“Oh, that can be even worse than losing your temper.”
“Pretty humiliating.”
“What made you fall apart?” Mrs. Phelps leaned back in her chair. “I mean, besides PMS.”
“I’m not really sure. Mr. Young was being nice. He’d just asked me to be chief editor of the paper.”
“Congratulations.”
Sophie bit her lip.
“Or not . . .”
“I’m just not sure I should do it.”
“Why not?”
Sophie shrugged but didn’t answer.
“You shouldn’t allow your current emotional state to frighten you out of doing something you really want to do.” She smiled.
“I make it a firm rule not to make any major life decisions when I’m in the midst of PMS. It’s kind of like getting your hair cut when you’re having a bad hair day—it can turn out to be a big mistake. You just need to be patient and wait until the emotions pass.”
“What if they don’t pass?”
“Oh, they always pass . . . eventually.”
Sophie didn’t say anything, just looked down at her hands and frowned.
“Sophie?”
“Huh?” Sophie looked up to see that Mrs. Phelps looked slightly concerned. With her chin in her hand, she studied Sophie carefully, almost like she was taking some kind of inventory. Or perhaps she