Her Mafia Brothers

Welcome to Womanhood

"I think you could do with a wee bit of an early night," Jack said. "Go upstairs and put your pajamas on and you can read a book or watch a movie in bed for a bit. I'll bring you up a hot chocolate soon, okay?"

Jack worded it as a suggestion but I knew it wasn't, not really. It was an order, and Jack expected me to obey it. So I nodded sullenly and trudged slowly towards the stairs. As I did, I saw Rocco disappear out the garage door; he was obviously going out. So now it was just my biggest brothers and Logan left in the house with me.

It was in the safety of my bedroom that I discovered I'd gotten my period for the first time. Blood stained my underwear and had started to soak through into my clothes. I looked at it in horror. I knew what it was, but I didn't know much about it. Mom had never bothered to tell me. And if the schools had taught us anything on the subject, it must have been on a day that I wasn't there.

Desperately, I searched through my bathroom cupboards for some much-needed supplies. Surely Damon had provided some? I pulled things out, rearranged items.... Nothing. Damon had thought of everything else, but he hadn't thought of this.

Helplessness washed over me and I sank to the floor. What the heck was I supposed to do now? This wasn't the kind of thing I wanted to talk to my brothers about. And I didn't think I would be allowed to leave the house to buy anything at this hour of the night.

What was I going to do?

I shuffled up against the bathroom vanity so my back was pressed right up against it. The cold, hard door was uncomfortable against my spine, and the hard floor made my tender butt ache, but the pain kinda matched my mood. Being comfortable right now would just feel wrong. It was almost as though this was nature's way of punishing me for what had happened with Logan.

Tears of frustration, loneliness, helplessness and uncertainty streamed down my face.

I don't know how long I sat there for. Ages, probably. All by myself, willing the bleeding to stop. But it didn't. I couldn't even text my friends because my phone was in my bedroom and I didn't want to move to go and get it, because the slightest movement sent more grossness spilling out of me. I was yuck.

"Carrie?" Jack called, sounding a bit confused. "I have your hot chocolate."

"I'm in my bathroom." A sob escaped me just as I said that, and Jack must have heard because he opened the door immediately and came in. No knocking. No asking if I was okay. He just barged right on in. Minus my hot chocolate which he must have left in my room.

"Carrie what's wrong?" he asked, concerned, as he crouched down in front of me.

I shook my head in despair. I loved Jack, but no way did I want to tell him what was going on. Some things you just don't discuss with brothers.

"Are you sick?" Jack pressed the back of his hand against my forehead. "You don't feel hot."

"I'm not sick."

"Okay." Jack sat back on his heels. "So what's wrong then? I want to help you sweetheart, but I can't if you won't tell me what's wrong." His tone was so kind, and as he picked up my hand and rubbed my knuckles comfortingly, I cried harder. Jack looked alarmed.

"Are you sad? Hurt?"

I shook my head.

"Just leave me alone," I mutter. Just because Jack is my favorite brother, doesn't mean I'm comfortable discussing girly problems with him.

Jack shook his head. "No can do, sweetheart. I need you to tell me what's wrong."

I shook my head and brought my knees up to my chest before leaning on them and burying my face in my arms. My face was flaming red with embarrassment and I didn't want Jack to see it.