Hydration Time

As the classroom assistant disposed of the soggy pull-up and helped Caiden step into a fresh, crinkly one, the teacher clapped her hands once again, her voice bright and singsong.

“Alright, everyone—hydration time!”

A few groans mixed with the rustling of papers, but most of the students obediently stood and lined up at the side table where a tray of colorful plastic cups had been set out. Each one was filled with a vaguely tinted liquid—pale pinks, oranges, blues—almost like juice, but not quite.

Mia took hers with both hands, the plastic cool and slightly sticky. She lifted it to her lips and took a cautious sip.

It tasted… odd.

Faintly sweet, but mostly metallic, like the flavor of water left too long in old pipes. She resisted the urge to grimace and took another sip, glancing around.

The others were drinking theirs quickly, like they were used to it. Some gulped it down without a second thought. Others sipped hesitantly like her.

The teacher smiled as the last student picked up their cup. “Very good. Remember—hydration is an important part of success at your level. "

Mia’s stomach tightened. The connection wasn’t hard to make.

Then the teacher’s eyes lit up. “And let’s give a round of applause for Savannah,” she said, gesturing toward a tall girl near the front, her hair in a perfectly neat braid. “She held it the longest yesterday. Such progress!”

Polite clapping followed. Savannah beamed, her cheeks pink with pride.

Mia turned her head just slightly to look at the chart again. She found Savannah’s name easily.

Her row looked perfect at first—sun after sun after sun. But then Mia saw the very last sticker. A cloud. No, not just a cloud—a rainy one.

She had an accident.

Yet the teacher had just praised her. As if theát didn’t matter. Or as if holding it in just a little longer still earned a reward, even if you failed in the end.

Mia looked down at her cup, still half-full. She didn’t want to finish it. But she knew she had to.

Behind her, Caiden reemerged, his cheeks still pink, his eyes fixed on the floor. His trousers were back on, but Mia could still hear the faint crinkle as he moved, the padding beneath thicker and snugger than before.

He shuffled quietly back to his seat, sliding into the desk next to her. His eyes didn’t meet hers.

He didn’t say a word.

But Mia couldn’t help wondering—how long would his fresh pull-up stay dry?