Page 43 of Clashing
Static voices sounded from the CRT TV, but no Scarlett. Then I heard it. Retching.
I should leave this and get out of here.She could be contagious. Even if she wasn’t, I wasn’t her boyfriend. We fucked. There was no reason to stay and check on her. Except the retching continued, each one more violent than the last.
Ah, fuck.
I slogged to the bathroom and found her lying on the linoleum floor, pale and clutching her stomach. Sweat gleaned on her forehead, and she curled into a ball. A horrifying thought seeped dread into my chest and stomach.
“You’re not pregnant, are you?” I asked.
“Jesus, what are you doing here?” she whined, hiding her face. “Go away.”
“You’re not.” My heart thundered against my ribs. “Right?”
“No.” She tightened her arms around her stomach. “Christ, Ryker.”
“Are you sure?”
She sat up, glare furious and almost intimidating. “Pretty fucking sure.”
“Because you took a test?”
A kid at this point in my life? I couldn’t even fucking take care of myself.
“No, jackass, because I’m on my fucking period.” She barely snapped the words out before her eyes widened. She dragged herself over the toilet and vomited, one hand haphazardly holding her hair back.
Cursing myself, I collected a hair tie from the counter. I waited until she stopped throwing up, then braided her hair. “Look, I got three sisters. None of them were this sick on their period.” I caressed her spine. “Are you sure that’s all it is?”
“Oh myGod.” She sneered at me. “Can you not be a total prick? I know my body. This is my body on my period. If you want me when this is over, I suggest you leave me the fuck alone and stop being a dick.”
Whether I was more annoyed with myself for breaking the rulesagainor with her, I couldn’t tell. Either way,I frowned and stood. “Fine. Jeez. You’re being the real poster child for bitchy women on their periods.”
“Get the fuck out before I claw out your eyes.”
“There’s ginger ale and crackers on the table.” I walked out, not so sure she wouldn’t actually claw out my eyes if I didn’t haul ass. “You’re welcome.”
Another retch halted my advancement to the front door.Leave her alone, Ryker.I tried to tell myself that. I really did. The fact was, my sisters were sick on their periods, but nothing that brutal. It still sucked. I still helped them.She’s not my sister.
So I left.
And returned an hour later with a bag from the store. Standing outside her door, I wondered what the fuck was wrong with me. How could she have this hold on me? My hand lingered on the doorknob.I shouldn’t do this.It’d give her the wrong idea. Yet, I twisted the knob, and it wasn’t locked even though I locked it on my way out. Now she was being a pain.
I entered, relieved to find her on the couch, nibbling crackers and watching TV. She peered over the sofa and scowled.
“What?” She narrowed her eyes at the bag. “Ryker, I swear to God, if that’s a fucking pregnancy test . . .”
“It’s not.” I kicked the door closed behind me. “This door was locked when I left.”
“I know.”
“Why isn’t it anymore?”
“Oh,I don’t know.” At least she wasn’t too sick to allow sarcasm to drip into her tone. “Maybe someone picked the lock and snuck in.”
I white-knuckled the bag as I circled the faded red couch. “When you feel better, you’re paying for that.”
“What do you want? Come to tell me more about how I don’t know my own body?”
“Jesus Christ.” I lifted her legs and sat down, then draped her calves over me. “You’re in a real crappy mood.”
