Aria's POV

The snow outside had gotten heavier, but in a soft, pretty way, none of yesterday's slush and chaos.

I stood by my bedroom window, holding the curtain open just a crack, watching the flakes drift down in lazy spirals.

The world looked quieter when it snowed. Like everything was on mute, and I kind of wished my nerves were too.

Today was my first official tutoring session with Jason Monroe.

I closed the curtain with a sigh and grabbed my tote bag.

I'd packed it earlier with my old Algebra textbooks, a few sharpened pencils, a calculator, highlighters, sticky notes... maybe a little overkill, but better to be over-prepared than caught slacking.

Especially with him. I tucked the folder with the placement tests and zipped it up before slinging it over my shoulder.

I reached for my purse, still sitting on my desk, and paused at the door.

"I wish Lily were here with me," I murmured.

I didn't even realise I'd said it out loud. Everything just felt... off without her by my side. Lily was my buffer, my confidence boost.

She made walking into unknown situations feel like jokes instead of heart attacks.

Now I was going to a stranger's house alone to tutor a guy who my subconscious thought looked like he belonged to a Calvin Klein billboard.

Ugh. Not that I'd ever admit but Lily was right. Hockey players were hot. But Jason was not just hot. He was hot hot. Like unfair levels of hot. Like, why do you even have a shirt on, sir? It's kind of hot.

Only... the problem was, when he opened his mouth, all that heat turned into cold rudeness.

Whiplash much?

I locked my front door and trudged toward the car, tossing my things into the backseat before sliding into the driver's seat.

My breath fogged up the windshield for a second, and I sat there, gripping the wheel and trying to calm the jittery energy buzzing through me.

I was five feet tall on a good day. Jason probably bench-pressed people my size for fun. How the hell was I supposed to survive this arrangement?

"Just be professional," I whispered to myself. "Help him pass. Keep it cool."

I glanced at the folder again and bit my lip. Please, I prayed silently, let him have actually done those placement tests. Just so this doesn't turn into a complete mess.

As I turned into the familiar bend toward his street, my stomach twisted itself into knots. My fingers clenched a little tighter around the steering wheel.

This was fine.

Totally fine.

I pulled into the driveway, parking behind a sleek black car that screamed money and speed. Probably his. Of course.

This time, a maid answered the door instead of his mom. She was kind and polite, introducing herself quickly before ushering me inside and up the staircase. I muttered a soft thank you and followed her steps, feeling smaller with every one I took.

Jason's door was already open when she stopped in front of it and smiled at me before leaving.

I stepped inside.

Typical boy's room. Hockey gear everywhere. Sticks propped against the wall, jerseys draped over a chair, and posters plastered everywhere.

Not just random players, though. Most of them were him. On the ice. With teammates. Mid-celebration after a goal.

The colour scheme was grey and black. I sidestepped a hoodie on the floor and a stray Gatorade bottle before moving further in...

A low growl stopped me in my tracks. I froze, turning toward the sound just as Jason looked up from where he sat on a couch near the far window.

Another guy was slouched beside him. A tall, broad-shouldered guy with buzzed dark hair and a wolfish smile.

Jason's eyes locked onto mine. "Who let you in my room?" he asked.

I flinched, instinctively taking a step back.

The other guy snorted. "Dude. Go easy. She's a cute little thing." He grinned at me.

The other guy pushed himself off the couch and walked over, extending a hand.

"Name's Aiden."

"Aria," I said, trying to make my voice sound normal.

His eyes flicked down. Then he tilted his head, almost thoughtfully, before saying...

"You might want to change your pants. They're... stained."

My heart skipped a beat. "What?"

I turned slightly, reaching behind me. My fingers touched the fabric. It was wet and sticky. Blood. Oh my god. No. No. No. No.

I stepped back, my face burning so hot. My period. Right now? I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole.

I couldn't move, nor could I breathe. My fingertips were pressed lightly against the stain.

Aria's POV

Of all places. Why is this happening now and here? Why didn't it happen at home, in my bathroom, where I could easily fix it in like a second?

I slowly pull my hand back in front of me. I can feel the burn in my face, climbing from my neck to the tips of my ears.

Aiden gives a low whistle and turns away like he's trying to give me space, which... I guess, thanks?

Jason doesn't even utter a word. But I know he is watching me intently.

For one, I'm glad he doesn't make a comment or act like anything has happened.

"You can use my bathroom," He says.

I bit my lip, nod quickly and bolt toward the door he tilted his head toward.

If it were any other day, I might've gawked at how luxurious the bathroom looked. Black marble countertops, warm golden lights, a huge walk-in shower. But I could care less right now.

My periods have never snuck up on me. I know the exact date down to the damn hour and I don't even need to check my Flo app to be sure.

But here I am, in a stranger's house, bleeding through my jeans.

I probably look like a clueless middle schooler who got her period for the first time.

I stare at myself in the mirror, sweaty despite the snow outside. My bangs stick to my forehead and my eyes are glassy.

Let's face this. I have no pads or tissues with me. I bit into my fingernail, a habit I haven't kicked since forever.

Ten minutes later, I'm still standing in the same spot, trying not to cry when I hear a knock behind me.

"Aria?" It's Jason's voice.

What does he want? I don't answer fast enough before he asks again. "You okay in there?"

Like he cares. Why wait until it's past ten minutes before coming to check up on me? Anyway, it's not like he's obligated to help me anyway.

Time to bury my shame and just ask for some help. "I could use some help." I squeak.

There's a pause and I'm starting to regret asking. Then I hear him laugh. "There's a bag outside the door... if you need it."

A bag? I wait until I hear his footsteps retreat before I open the door and snatch the bag. Inside is Pads, a fresh pack of panties and a huge jersey with 'JASON #17' on the back.

Oh. My. God. I don't want to think about how or why he has these things.

I just change, wash my jeans in the sink and hang them over the rail.

After wiping myself down and putting on the shirt, it falls to my knees like a dress.

"Aria Bennett," I whisper to my reflection. "You can survive this." With a deep breath, I walk out. Aiden is gone, thank God.

But Jason sits on the edge of a couch in front of a desk, his elbows on his knees. His eyes lift and land on me. Then slowly drops, taking in the jersey and my legs and my exposed knees. I tug at the hem, suddenly wishing the shirt went to my ankles.

Jason stands. Why does he have to stand? "I... are you..." He scratches the back of his neck. "Okay?"

"Yeah," I say in a small voice. "I'm fine."

I think about asking him about the bag, pads and panties. But I decide against it. It's a good thing he isn't bringing it up, I don't have to just remind him.

So, I just let it down quietly, pretending I didn't just live through the most humiliating fifteen minutes of my life.

"So, did you do the tests?" I say, looking everywhere but at Jason. It doesn't help that he's staring at me and even though he isn't laughing or smirking, I can feel the amusement behind his stare.

I feel mocked.

"Your period usually decides to embarrass you every time, sunshine?" I hear him ask.

What?

I thought we'd gone past the period saga?

"Can we focus on this..." I point at the book on the desk. "Instead of my period?"

Jason raises a brow. "But I want to talk about your period?"

I fight the urge to glare at him.

"Do you get heavy flows? Or light ones. I once read somewhere that know-it-all girls get heavy flows as punishment for the damn stick in their ass."

I'm trying not to run mad at this point. I squint my eyes at Jason, unsure of a reply befitting his research.

Why is he so rude? No... Why is he one person this second and an utterly different person the next second?

The guy who helped me out minutes ago couldn't be this... annoying freak, could he?

I look inside my bag and bring out my watch and I set the time for three hours.

Yeah. That's how much time I'll spend with him. If he decides to waste the time by stalling me and trying to work me up, it's his own damn problem.

"So, how about the tests? Did you... finish them?"

"I tried." He says lazily before dumping the file on the desk.

Good thing he tried. At least today will be half productive. I'll get to know how bad he is at his school work and then I'll...

You've got to be kidding me.

The first page is blank. I flip through the next page, and the next, and the next and a permanent scowl creeps up to my cheeks. I look up at Jason.

"You... you tried?" The words leave my mouth, making it bitter.

Jason's shrug only infuriates me more. I slam the tests on the desk. "You didn't even try. Everything's empty..." I wave the papers in front of his face. "What is wrong with you?"

Jesus Christ, help me with this. Who is this boy? The one his mum claimed was reserved and didn't eat or talk. Could've fooled me.

"Look, I'm gonna get paid to do this." I start, " And if I can't fix you then..."

"You can't fix me. I am not a malfunctioned robot."

I lift my chin upwards, matching his glare. "I'm not doing this with you," I say, and I take my bag and start packing my things. To my surprise, Jason doesn't stop me. He just folds his arms and watches.

"See? Being the principal's daughter doesn't make you special after all."

I raise my brow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that... you are just like the others. The other girls who want me but can never have a piece. And you're intolerant, impatient and..."

That's it. I am so done with him. I slung my bag over my shoulder and walk to the door. By the time I'm down the stairs, and halfway out the door, I stop.

Crap.

My jeans.

I stand and stare down at Jason's jersey swaying down my knees, and silently curse myself. I can't walk out like this. Not in the freezing snow. Not through this town. Not back to my home where my mom will 100% ask too many questions.

I have to go and get my jeans.

I groan and spin on my heel. I'll just go back, head straight for the bathroom and not even look at him.

"Forgot something?" He asks when he sees me enter.

"Just my jeans," I reply.

"Oh right. The bloody jeans." He smirks.

I stop walking. "Jason..." I warn even though my voice is shaky.

He tilts his head. "Relax, sunshine. It's just... You looked so cute running off in my jersey. You know... You were totally killing the walk of shame vibe, although without the fun part of it."

I exhale. "Haha, very funny," I say dryly.

"And could you please come with your bad influence next time? The girl with the pink hair? She's a whole lot more fun than you could ever try to be." He grins.

It shouldn't hurt. Because I've heard that comment every fifteen years that Lily and I have been best friends. Hell, I don't expect the tightness in my chest that comes with Jason's stupid remark. But it's there. As I grab my damp jeans, I picture it.

I picture Lily in my situation. She'd have it under control. And here I am, acting like a coward. A damn coward. Tears prick my eyes as I bolt out of Jason's room.

And his stupid perfect house.

Aria's POV

If humiliation is an actual object, I'd be it right now.

Jason didn't mention that his teammates were coming over. So I can imagine how confused I look once I push open the door and standing in front are his hockey teammates.

The jocks. The popular guys from our school. The ones who sometimes called me a nerd for being the principal's daughter.

And they are all staring at me. Please, earth... open up and swallow me, I pray.

I recognise some of them. Like Jason's friend from the party and Aiden. They give me polite little nods as they step past me into the house without a word. I could kiss them for being nice and respectful. Love that for me. But for the others?

Of course not.

"Wait, wait, wait." One of them grins so wide it hurts to look at him. "Is that... the principal's daughter? In Jason's house? Bro."

I'm still trying to recover from the rude remark when another one whistles lowly. "Jason, my man. Bagged yourself a whole principal's daughter, huh?"

He didn't bag anything, I want to scream.

But the hollers and the laughter from the other guys make me shut my mouth. They are all trooping in one after the other and each one of them has something to say. It's either them hailing their stupid captain or laughing.

The last person is someone I know. Nate. I've tutored him once before when he was failing algebra and the least I expect from him is to be nice. Like Aiden and the other guy.

"Yo, is this the walk of shame?" He says. "Looks like it to me. She's running out with her face red as hell. Hold up, hold up," He continues and the laughter dies down. "Jason has never... I repeat, never... given any girl his jersey."

"I... just..." I stutter, then shut my mouth because what am I even supposed to say? Hi, yes, it's totally not what it looks like? Yeah, sure. Like that will fix the rotten brains of these guys.

So I do the only thing I'm good at. I hold back my tears and run out the open door, making straight for my car.

I yank the car door open and the second I slam the door shut, I can't hold back the tears any longer. I zoom off, barely seeing the road through the blur in my vision.

The sob that breaks out of me is so ugly, I have to press a hand over my mouth so no one can see me if they pass me by.

Screw Jason.

Screw his stupid, idiot friends.

And screw my father for being a principal and for even signing me up for this. I am never going back to Jason's home again. His parents can find someone else to tutor their son.

I'm already halfway down the street when my phone buzzes. I wipe my face with the back of my hand and check who it is.

Lily.

I sigh and answer. "Hey."

"Well?" She asks immediately, no hello, no nothing. "How was your first tutoring session with Hockey Boy?"

I roll my eyes even though she can't see me. "Don't even start."

"Oh my God." Her voice perks up. "You sound weird. Did something happen? Please tell me you at least got a..."

I stay quiet as Lily trails off.

"Aria..." she drags out my name suspiciously. "What did he do? Whose ass am I kicking? Because you know I will."

I let out a weak laugh. "Nobody's. He was just being a jerk. That's all."

There's a pause on her end. "Ugh, I knew it. My poor baby. You sound miserable."

"I'm fine," I mutter, even though I don't sound like it.

"No, you're not," she says gently. "But that's okay, because I know exactly what'll cheer you up. I'm coming over. Five minutes. Just get ready."

"Lily, you don't have to..."

"Too late. I want to, and you need me. End of story." I can hear her moving around, probably already grabbing her coat.

I smile a little despite my moody self. "You're ridiculous."

"Yeah, but you love me that way. Don't you?"

"...Yeah."

"Good. Now stop sulking till I get there. I'll bring snacks. We'll talk. You can rant as much as you want, okay?"

I exhale, feeling a little lighter already. "Okay."

"See you in five."

The line goes off and I pull up in front of my home.

The first thing I do when I enter my room is take off Jason's jersey and hurl it across the room. I also take off the panties and the soaked-up pad.

Everything that Jason gave me burns my skin. I can't even look at the stupid number 17 jersey without recalling all of the insults hurled against me by the hockey team.

And it's his fault. It's his stupid fault.

I'm curled up on my bed, when I hear the knock at the front door. Seconds later, Lily barges straight into my room.

She drops a plastic bag of snacks on my desk and raises a brow at me. "Wow. You look... great."

"That bad huh?" I mutter.

She plops down next to me, nudging me with her shoulder. "Alright, talk to me. How bad was it?"

I shake my head. "I don't even want to talk about it."

"Figures." She rolls her eyes. "So, solution time. We're going to the diner."

"What? No." I sit up a little straighter. "Absolutely not."

"Yes."

"No, Lily."

"Aria Bennett, don't test me. You're coming. You can't sit here sulking in your room all night. The longer you stay in bed, the more you're gonna replay everything in your head. And then you'll call me at two a.m. crying about it. So let's just skip to the part where I drag you out and you thank me later."

"Lily, I look like crap, I feel like crap, and I don't want to be seen in public right now."

Her eyes narrow. "Okay, first of all? You never look like crap. Second of all, you need fries... and milkshakes... and me."

Typical Lily. But I am still not going. I shake my head stubbornly. "Nope. Not happening. End of discussion."

Lily leans back, crossing her arms. "Alright. So you can say no... but remember that time I didn't want to go to your cousin's baby shower because it was literally a two-hour drive, and who still went with you? Me.

I'm speechless. "Lily, you know that's different."

"Different my butt. Or what about the time I covered for you when you skipped gym and hid in the library?"