Chapter 9: Growing Up

The end of fifth grade arrived faster than Emily expected. One moment she was settling into being eleven, and the next she was preparing for her elementary school graduation ceremony.

Mrs. Patterson had been wonderful all year, encouraging Emily’s artistic talents while patiently helping her improve in math and science. On the last day of school, she pulled Emily aside.

“You’re going to do wonderfully in middle school,” Mrs. Patterson said warmly. “You’re creative, hardworking, and kind. Those qualities will serve you well wherever you go.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Patterson,” Emily said, hugging her teacher impulsively. “Thank you for everything.”

The graduation ceremony was simple but meaningful - all the fifth graders wearing paper caps they’d decorated themselves, receiving certificates, singing a farewell song. Emily’s parents and Sarah attended, taking photos and cheering when Emily’s name was called.

Lola, Tiffany, and Erika were all going to Roosevelt Middle School with her in the fall. The four girls made a pact to stay friends forever, sealing it with a group hug that left them all teary-eyed and laughing.

Summer passed in a blur of playdates, art projects, and slowly watching the Lars memories fade further into the background. They were still there - Emily could access them if she tried - but they felt increasingly like old photographs stored away in a dusty album. Present but not relevant to her daily life.

By the time August rolled around and middle school loomed, Emily was nervous but excited. This was a new chapter, a new beginning.

Roosevelt Middle School was overwhelming at first. The building was huge compared to Oakwood Elementary, with multiple floors, lockers that required combinations, and different teachers for each subject. Emily had to navigate crowded hallways, remember six different class schedules, and adjust to having homework from multiple teachers every night.

But she had her friends. Lola, Tiffany, and Erika were all in several of her classes, and they’d claimed a lunch table together on the first day, establishing their territory. They navigated the social hierarchy of middle school together, learning which eighth graders to avoid, which teachers were strict versus lenient, where the best bathroom was located.

In October, during health class, their teacher Ms. Rodriguez covered a topic that made several students giggle uncomfortably: menstruation.

Ms. Rodriguez was matter-of-fact about it, using proper terms and diagrams, explaining that this was a normal, natural part of growing up for girls. She talked about what to expect, how to prepare, what products were available, and - most importantly - what to do if it happened at school.

“If you start your period during the school day,” Ms. Rodriguez said calmly, “don’t panic. Go to the bathroom, use toilet paper as a temporary measure if needed, and then go to the nurse’s office. We have supplies available, and the nurse will help you. This is nothing to be embarrassed about. It happens to every woman, and we’re all here to support each other.”

Emily listened carefully, taking mental notes. Some of the girls around her were whispering and giggling, but Emily felt strangely calm about it. This was just biology. Just part of growing up. She had Lars’s memories of knowing about this process from the outside, which made it less mysterious, but she was still nervous about experiencing it herself.

It happened in March, just after she’d turned twelve.

Emily was at lunch with her friends, eating and laughing about something Tiffany had said, when she felt a strange sensation - a slight cramping in her lower abdomen, uncomfortable but not quite painful. She shifted in her seat, trying to get comfortable.

“You okay, Em?” Lola asked, noticing her expression.

“Yeah, just ... I think I need to use the bathroom.”

Emily excused herself and walked quickly to the nearest girls’ bathroom. It wasn’t until she was in a stall, pulling down her pants, that she saw it - a dark red spot on her underwear, unmistakable.

Her period. Her first period.

For a moment, Emily just stared at it, processing. This was happening. Her body was changing, growing up, becoming capable of things it hadn’t been capable of before.

She remembered Ms. Rodriguez’s instructions and grabbed toilet paper, folding it carefully and placing it in her underwear as a temporary pad. It wasn’t ideal, but it would work until she could get to the nurse.

Emily washed her hands thoroughly, checked herself in the mirror to make sure nothing showed through her dark jeans, and then walked - not ran, didn’t want to draw attention - to the nurse’s office.

The school nurse, Mrs. Yang, was an older Asian woman with a kind smile and gentle hands. When Emily explained quietly what was happening, Mrs. Yang nodded with understanding.

“Come with me, sweetie. We’ll get you all set up.”

Mrs. Yang provided a proper pad, showed Emily how to use it, gave her some pamphlets about menstrual care, and even offered her ibuprofen for the cramps that were starting to intensify.

“You’re doing great,” Mrs. Yang assured her. “Many girls panic their first time, but you’re handling this very maturely. Do you need to call home?”

“Can I call my sister?” Emily asked. “She’s in eighth grade here.”

Mrs. Yang smiled. “Of course.”

Sarah arrived at the nurse’s office ten minutes later, her face a mixture of concern and understanding. “Em? Are you okay?”

“I got my period,” Emily said simply.

Sarah’s face transformed into a huge smile. “Oh, Em!” She pulled her little sister into a tight hug. “This is amazing! Look at you growing up!”

Emily felt tears prick her eyes - not from sadness, but from the overwhelming feeling of being seen and supported. “You’re not grossed out?”

“Grossed out? No! This is a big moment! This is part of becoming a woman!” Sarah hugged her tighter. “How are you feeling? Do you have cramps? Do you need anything?”

“Mrs. Yang gave me some ibuprofen and a pad. I think I’m okay.”

“Do you want to go home? I can call Mom.”

Emily considered it, then shook her head. “No, I want to finish the school day. I can do this.”

Sarah looked at her with such pride and love. “You absolutely can. But if you change your mind, text me. I’ll be right there.”

They hugged one more time before Sarah had to return to class. Emily finished the school day, managing the discomfort and the strange new awareness of her changing body. When the final bell rang, Sarah was waiting at her locker.

“Come on,” Sarah said, linking arms with her. “Let’s walk home together.”

On the walk home, Sarah explained more about managing periods, about different products, about how to handle cramps and mood swings. She was patient and thorough, answering all of Emily’s questions without embarrassment.

“Has Mom talked to you about this?” Sarah asked.

“A little bit. But it’s different hearing it from you.”

When they got home, Sarah immediately went to their mother. “Mom, Em needs to tell you something.”

Emily felt her face flush. “I ... I got my period today. At school.”

Her mother’s face lit up with a bittersweet smile - happy that her daughter was growing up, but also a little sad that her baby was no longer quite so little. “Oh, sweetie! Come here.”

She pulled Emily into a hug, holding her close. “I’m so proud of you. This is such an important milestone. How are you feeling?”

“Kind of crampy. Kind of weird. But okay.”

“Well, let’s get you set up properly.” Her mother took her upstairs and showed her the supplies she’d been keeping in the bathroom cabinet - pads of different sizes, pain medication, a heating pad for cramps. “These are all yours now too. Use whatever you need.”

That evening, when their father came home, their mother discreetly informed him. He gave Emily an awkward but loving hug and said, “You’re growing up, kiddo. I’m so proud of you.”

Later that night, as Emily was getting ready for bed, Sarah knocked on her door.