Friends or more?

– Okay, so, deep breaths everyone! – Molly announced with a clap of her hands, surveying the chaos of the girls' dressing room. – Dress rehearsal, people! This is it!

Eleanora, perched precariously on a stool while attempting to apply glitter to her eyelids without poking an eye out, hummed in agreement. – She’s right, you know. Tonight is our last chance to iron out all the kinks. No pressure or anything.

Kinsey, ever the pragmatist, was meticulously organizing her emergency kit, which seemed to grow exponentially with each passing rehearsal. – And by kinks, she means making sure no one trips over a prop or forgets a line. Or, you know, has a full-blown existential crisis mid-song.

Brynn, who had been quietly fiddling with a loose sequin on her costume, let out a nervous giggle. – Guilty as charged on the existential crisis front. This whole ‘Prom’ thing is… a lot.

– Tell me about it, – Molly commiserated, flopping onto the worn velvet couch. – I swear I’ve sung ‘It’s Not About Me’ so many times I’m starting to believe it’s actually about me.

Eleanora finally succeeded in her glitter mission and beamed at her reflection. – But it’s going to be amazing! We’ve all worked so hard. And, honestly, our Alyssa and Emma? Stellar. The chemistry is off the charts.

Kinsey, who had just finished zipping up her own vibrant dress, felt a familiar warmth spread through her at Eleanora’s words. She glanced at Brynn, who was now looking at her own reflection, a soft smile playing on her lips.

– You really think so? – Brynn asked, her voice a little softer than usual.

– Absolutely! – Kinsey affirmed, walking over and gently placing her hand on Brynn’s. – You’re incredible, Brynn. Seriously. Every time we’re on stage, it just… clicks. Like we’ve been doing this for years.

As Kinsey’s fingers brushed against Brynn’s, a spark, almost imperceptible, passed between them. Brynn, without a moment’s hesitation, intertwined their fingers, her thumb gently stroking the back of Kinsey’s hand. Neither of them seemed to notice the gesture, lost in the comfortable silence that settled over them. Molly and Eleanora, however, exchanged a knowing glance.

– Alright, lovebirds, – Molly teased, a grin spreading across her face. – As much as I adore this budding romance, we have a show to do! I hear the opening chords.

Indeed, the faint, yet distinct, strains of the first song began to drift up from the stage below.

– Oh, shoot! – Eleanora exclaimed, scrambling off her stool. – That’s our cue to head down! Come on, you two!

Kinsey and Brynn, still holding hands, started to move towards the door, a shared smile on their faces. But just as they reached the threshold, Kinsey squeezed Brynn’s hand, stopping her.

– You guys go ahead, – Kinsey said to Molly and Eleanora, her voice a little hushed. – Brynn and I will be right behind you.

Molly raised an eyebrow, a question in her eyes, but Eleanora, ever quick on the uptake, simply nodded. – Got it. Don’t be too long, though! Gracie will have our heads.

As Molly and Eleanora disappeared down the stairs, their chatter fading, Kinsey turned to Brynn, her expression suddenly serious. She moved closer, positioning herself slightly behind Brynn, a protective stance that Brynn found surprisingly comforting.

– I feel… weird, – Brynn confessed, her voice barely a whisper. Her hand, still in Kinsey’s, felt a little clammy. – My stomach hurts. And I just feel… different. Like something’s not right.

Kinsey’s eyes, usually so bright and full of life, softened with understanding. She leaned in, her lips almost brushing Brynn’s ear as she whispered. – Brynn, I think you just got your period. And… you bled through.

The words, though gentle, hit Brynn like a physical blow. Her eyes widened, and a gasp escaped her lips. She instinctively looked down, and sure enough, a dark stain was spreading across the back of her pristine white costume. Her carefully constructed composure crumbled in an instant. Her lower lip began to tremble, and tears welled up in her eyes.

– No, – she choked out, her voice cracking. – No, I can’t… I don’t know what to do!

Panic, hot and overwhelming, surged through her. She felt exposed, embarrassed, and utterly helpless. The carefully crafted image of Emma, the confident prom queen, shattered.

Kinsey’s grip on her hand tightened, a silent anchor in the storm of Brynn’s emotions. Without a word, Kinsey pulled out her phone, her fingers flying across the screen.

– Eleanora, – she texted, her voice a low murmur as she spoke to the phone. – Tell Gracie that Brynn and I will be down later. Emergency. We’ll explain everything. Just cover for us.

A moment later, she received a quick reply: ‘On it. Is everything okay?’

– Everything will be, – Kinsey muttered to herself, then looked back at Brynn, whose tears were now flowing freely.

– I can’t go on stage, – Brynn sobbed, her shoulders shaking. – Everyone will see!

– Hey, hey, – Kinsey soothed, her voice calm and steady. – It’s okay. We’ll fix it. You’re okay.

She gently guided Brynn to sit on the floor, ignoring the potential for further stains. Then, with a practiced efficiency that spoke volumes about her ‘mom friend’ tendencies, Kinsey unzipped her own large, floral-patterned bag. She rummaged through it, pulling out a small, discreet pouch.

– Okay, – Kinsey said, her voice firm but kind. – First things first, we need to get you cleaned up. Come on.

She offered Brynn a hand, helping her up. Brynn, still crying silently, allowed herself to be led, her trust in Kinsey absolute. Kinsey guided her out of the dressing room and down a short hallway, leading them to the quieter, less-frequented locker room bathrooms.

Inside, Kinsey quickly locked the door. She then opened the pouch she’d retrieved from her bag.

– Alright, – Kinsey began, her voice patient and reassuring. – So, this is a pad. You peel off the backing and stick it to your underwear. It’ll absorb everything.

She demonstrated with a fresh pad, showing Brynn how it worked. Brynn watched, her eyes red-rimmed but slowly absorbing the information.

– And this, – Kinsey continued, holding up a tampon, – is a tampon. It goes inside. It’s a bit more… personal, but it’s really good for when you’re performing or when you want to be more active. You just push it in with this applicator here.

Brynn’s face crumpled again. – I don’t know how to do any of this. I’ve never…

– It’s okay, – Kinsey interrupted gently. – Everyone has a first time. It’s a little strange at first, but you’ll get the hang of it. Do you want to try the pad first? It’s usually easier to start with.

Brynn nodded, still tearful. Kinsey handed her the pad, along with a fresh pair of underwear from her bag – another Kinsey essential, it seemed.

– I brought a spare pair of leggings too, – Kinsey added, retrieving them. – They’re not perfect for the costume, but they’ll get you through rehearsal without anyone noticing. You can change out of your costume for now.

While Brynn hesitantly went into a stall to try and manage the situation, Kinsey continued to pull out more items from her seemingly bottomless bag. She found a small, discreet heating patch.

– This, – Kinsey explained when Brynn emerged, looking a little less overwhelmed, – goes on your lower stomach. It’s a heating patch, and it’ll help with the cramps.

She then produced a small bottle of pain relievers. – And these are for the pain. Take two with some water.

Brynn, still looking a little shell-shocked, swallowed the pills with a cup of water Kinsey had filled from the tap. She then carefully applied the heating patch, feeling a small measure of comfort as the warmth began to spread.

Kinsey, ever the practical one, then turned to the soiled costume. – We need to try and clean this up a bit. It might not come out entirely, but we can at least make it less noticeable.

She found some paper towels and wet them, gently dabbing at the stain on Brynn’s costume. Brynn, now dressed in Kinsey’s borrowed leggings and a clean top from her own bag, watched her, a profound sense of gratitude washing over her.

– I… I don’t know what I would do without you, – Brynn whispered, her voice still shaky.

Kinsey looked up, a soft, reassuring smile on her face. – You don’t have to worry about that. I’m here. Always.

Once the costume was as clean as it could get, Kinsey carefully folded it and placed it in a plastic bag. She then sat beside Brynn, who was still looking pale and a little lost.

– How are you feeling now? – Kinsey asked, gently pushing a stray strand of hair from Brynn’s face.

– Still a bit… weird, – Brynn admitted. – But better. Less panicked. Thank you, Kinsey. Seriously. You always have everything.

Kinsey chuckled softly. – It’s a habit. Never know when someone’s going to need a spare hair tie, or a snack, or… well, a whole emergency period kit.

A small, genuine smile finally touched Brynn’s lips. – You’re the best.

– I try, – Kinsey said, a warmth spreading through her at Brynn’s smile. – Now, we should probably head back down. Gracie’s probably sending out search parties by now.

As they walked back towards the stage, Kinsey kept a close eye on Brynn. She could sense Brynn’s lingering discomfort, the slight anxiety that still hummed beneath the surface. Without thinking, Kinsey reached out and gently took Brynn’s hand, lacing their fingers together.

Brynn squeezed back, a silent acknowledgment of Kinsey’s steady presence. As they descended the final set of stairs, the sound of the music grew louder, the energy of the dress rehearsal pulling them back into the world of Prom. But for Brynn, the world had shifted, and in her hand, she held the proof that some shifts, even unexpected ones, could bring unexpected comfort. Kinsey, ever the protector, held Brynn’s hand the entire way, a silent promise to weather any storm, big or small, that came their way.