Page 44 of Clashing
“You barged into my bathroom while I was vomiting and demanded to know if I was pregnant. What did you expect?”
She had me there. “Sorry,” I muttered, scratching the back of my neck. “I panicked.”
“Well, next time don’t.” She timidly sipped her can of soda. “This is normal for me. I won’t have you freaking out every month.”
“The violent vomiting is normal?”
“It’smynormal.”
“That’s horrible.”
“No kidding.”
“Can’t someone give you something to help?”
“The medical field doesn’t give a shit about women, Ryker. No one does research to help. The most they do is give you painkillers and anti-nausea pills and say good luck. Pills are pretty useless when you can’t keep anything down.”
I pictured Scarlett lying on the floor every month and flexed my hand. “All right, I’m not trying to be a dick, but what the fuck? Three sisters, never saw shit like that.”
“I have everything wrong with me a girl can have.” Her face reddened before she looked away. “My periods are like periods on steroids.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I have PCOS, PMDD, and endometriosis.”
“I don’t know what any of that is.”
“It’s bullshit. Bullshit and pain.” She stroked her lower stomach with a grimace. “Also why no matter how hard I work out,” she patted her tummy, one I knew she was insecure about because it wasn’t flat, “I can’t get rid of this.”
“Don’t get rid of anything. Your body’s perfect.”
“Perfect at causing me immense pain.”
Can’t argue with that.I retrieved the electric heating pad from the bag I brought and knelt next to the closest outlet.
“What’s that?” She craned her head to see what I was doing as I plugged it in.
“A heating pad.”
I rested it on her stomach after setting it at a medium heat. Her eyebrows nearly touched her hairline.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing. Never had a guy who didn’t get squeamish at the mention of a period. Or one who knew how to help.”
“Then you haven’t been with men; you’ve been with boys.”
She giggled, and I didn’t realize how much I missed her smile until that moment. “Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I owed you for the pregnancy freak-out.”
“That’s for damn certain.”
“So, what the fuck is that shit you listed?”
She tilted her head. “You seriously want to know?” I gestured for her to continue. She arched a brow. “Um, okay. You’re a first for me. Guys usually treat me like I have the plague when I’m on my period.”
“I told you, they were boys. If you were with a guy who couldn’t handle hearing about a period, then he was a fucking child. Real men buy tampons and chocolate.”
