Bubble Baths and Bad Timing

I could picture it so clearly: me, sitting here in my grass-stained soccer shorts, boohooing like the world was ending because… what? I deleted a mean text? My best friend wanted d**k? My coach called me out?

“Get it together, Aria,” I sniffled, wiping my face with the hem of my shirt and only making it worse. “You’re not dying. You’re just… hormonal. Or dramatic. Or both. Probably both. Future m