Real Mermaids Dont Wear Toe Rings

Chapter 3

✿Chapter 3✿

The bathroom was a bust.

I had to wait for the cleaning lady to clear out and then my quarter got stuck in the maxi-pad machine, so I was left with no choice but to go to Dooley's Drugstore a little farther down the mall.

Did I even know what to get once I got there?

I rushed past food court, hoping Cori and Lainey didn't see me and tried to waddle as I approached Dooley's, but the super sonic Slurpie napkin situation was making things a bit tricky. My heart rate ramped up to a whirr as I pushed through the drugstore's turnstile to enter. I blinked back the glare from the stark, fluorescent lights. A cold sweat rose from every pore of my skin, covering me in a damp slick.

Nerves. Just nerves.

I tried to channel one of Dr. Becker's visualization techniques. She had a cottage close to Gran's and I'd gone to see her for counselling after mom drowned.

Breathe in, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four. Go to your happy place. Except my "happy place" was just about anywhere but there at that precise moment.

Priority number one: just get what I needed hightail it back to the washroom. I scanned the aisle markers and tried not to gag as I brushed past the perfume counter.

Hair and Hair products

First Aid

Pain and Cold Remedies

Then, hung over aisle six, in print that seem to be twice the size of everything else, there it was.

Feminine Hygiene Products

"Ouch!"

A leftover Mother's Day display jabbed into my other hip, balancing out my shopping cart injury. At this rate, I'd need a walker before I even made it through puberty. A few greeting cards fluttered to the floor.

On this Mother's Day

The Meaning of Mommy

Yo, Momma!

I hurried to stash the cards back onto the display and tried to stay focused. Especially since my Slurpie napkin wedgie was beginning to slip.

I made it to aisle six, avoiding any more injuries, and walked partway down the row glancing around to make sure Cori hadn't decided to restock on cherry blast lip gloss. A mother struggled by with a rubber band of a toddler, forcing me to plaster my body against the opposite shelf to let them through. What I wouldn't give to have mom there. But mom was gone. Plus, dad was probably sitting on a bench in the middle of the mall, googling random facts on his blackberry, and Cori was totally in the dark about what was going on thanks to the Lie.

I was on my own with this one.

Once the coast is clear, I turned to face the dizzying display of flowers and butterfly packaging varying shades of pinks, purples, and whites. This is nothing like the panty liner commercials with the girl and the flowing dress, prancing through fields of daisies. How was I supposed to choose from the millions upon millions of choices spread over a ten-acre radius of super absorbency?

White plastic tags hung from the shelves.

Super Maxi $6.25

Easy Glide $4.49

Sheerlights $7.99

Gah! Money!

I tucked my Hyde's Department Store bag under my arm and rifled through my purse for money. Half eaton cookie, a dead Tic Tac, the can of pepper spray Dad insisted I carry when I walked home by myself that week when Cori had the measles.