Chapter 3
The next few days, I basically became a ghost haunting my own life.[]
At the dining hall, I’d only get one portion from the cheapest station–plain iceberg lettuce salad with no toppings and white rice for four bucks.]
I’d eat half at lunch, then save the other half for dinner.[]
When my roommates invited me out to eat, I’d make excuses about being on a diet.[]
When they shared boba tea and snacks, I’d pretend to study while secretly swallowing my saliva, my stomach literally burning from hunger.
On nights when the hunger kept me awake, I’d drag myself to the sink and chug cold water until my stomach stopped cramping.[]
Within just a few days, I looked skeletal.[]
I actually tried doing what Quinn suggested–going to the farmer’s market to scavenge for free food.[]
But I only had a bike. When Quinn said I had “a car,” she meant my shitty bicycle.[]
It was a $260 used bike I’d bought because our campus is massive–it takes thirty minutes to walk to most classes, so I needed transportation.[]
Of course, when Quinn found out about the purchase, she lost her mind. Called me lazy and stupid for “wasting money instead of just waking up thirty minutes earlier.”
Naturally, she docked the bike cost from
my
allowance.
Even though she screamed at me, I was actually happy about that bike back then. I had back–to–back classes on opposite sides of campus, and it would take forever to walk between buildings. I was constantly running late and showing up to lectures out of breath.[]
Thankfully my professors were understanding.
With the bike, I thought my problems were solved.[]
But this piece of junk was nearly impossible to ride. The farmer’s market was six miles away, and it took me a full hour to get there on that death trap.]]
By the time I arrived, all the decent discarded produce would be gone. I’d be left picking through moldy vegetable scraps.
Round trip would take three hours, and I’d come back with maybe two or three sad vegetables.
It was eating up entire evenings.[]
So after a few attempts, I gave up on that strategy.[]
I thought about getting a job in the dining hall, but I was taking a full course load–there was literally no time for work.[]
Finally, one night, I couldn’t take it anymore.]]
i
I pulled out my mini rice cooker and boiled plain instant ramen–no oil, no salt, nothing. Just forcing it down my throat.[]
Every swallow hurt. Tears dripped into the bowl, making it taste bitter and salty.[]
I’d barely eaten a few bites when my stomach started convulsing violently. Everything I’d just swallowed came right back up.[]
I kept retching until I was bringing up bile, then finally stopped.[]
My throat felt like it was on fire, but I was too exhausted to care. Just pure despair.
Stupid fucking stomach. Why couldn’t it just cooperate?[]
Tears were hitting the floor drop by drop.
But before I could even process my misery, familiar cramping started in my lower abdomen.[]
I curled up in a ball, pressing my hands against the pain.]
Right. I was almost out of tampons.]
I dragged my aching body to my desk drawer and pulled out my last generic tampon.[]
My Sister Cut My Food Money to $300 While Spending $30K on Bas? Time to Make Her INTERNET FAMOUST
Chapter 3
Clear plastic wrapper, no branding, rough as sandpaper.
Thirty cents each, bought in bulk online. A huge pack that was supposed to last forever.[]
My nail scratched across the plastic, making this awful squeaking sound.
$
I numbly scrolled through Instagram, remembering someone mentioning that brands sometimes give away free period products online.]
I typed “tampons” into the search bar.
The first result that popped up? My sister Quinn’s account.
