Page 100 of Chaos at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 2)
“It’s no big deal, Bernie. I know what a period is; I’ll throw the stuff in the wash.”
I narrow my eyes on him, but now that I’ve asked for help, I decide I don’t want it. I’m going to have to run for that stupid toilet, blood running down my legs, dripping across the floor … The last thing I’d ever want is for any of the Havoc Boys—Aaron included—to see me in that state.
I’m Bernadette Blackbird, leather-wearing, face-smashing bitch from hell.
That’s the persona I want. This is too real for me. Honestly, it’s freaking me the fuck out. I’m pretty sure I have intimacy problems that I need to work through.
“Aaron, screw off,” I say, trying to keep my cool as much as possible. Anyone that tells you that women are irrational freaks on their period is probably a misogynistic douche, but that doesn’t mean I enjoy having blood all over me and cramps that hurt like a punch to the gut.
“Stop that crap. I’m here to help. Where did you put the tampons and shit you bought?” He crosses his arms over his chest, like he intends on standing there until I tell him.
“Downstairs,” I grind out and he nods, disappearing out the door while I scramble to get to the toilet. Unfortunately for me, Oscar is in the bathroom when I get there, and I groan. He’s brushing his teeth at the sink and pauses to look my direction with a face painted in abject boredom. When he sees the blood all over my crotch, his expression shifts slightly.
“I can see you need this more than I do,” he says calmly, spitting into the sink one last time before he quickly rinses it and puts his toothbrush in a case. I try not to judge, but who the hell takes the time to put their toothbrush in a snapping plastic case twice a day? It just isn’t worth the effort.
Oscar goes to skirt past me, but as he does, a strange thrill passes over me, and he pauses right beside me, our bodies jammed together in the doorframe.
He’s tall, much skinnier than Hael or Aaron or Vic, but with long, lean muscles that move viper-quick in an altercation. I’ve seen him fight before, when he curb stomped that kid outside the school. I’ve also used a stun gun on him and watched as he grabbed my arm and electrocuted me, too. I ended up on my back on the ground, twitching, as Oscar stood stoically over me.
He’s inhuman.
I move into the room and slam the door behind me. Seeing as the lock is broken, I don’t bother with it, climbing into the bathtub with all my clothes on and shivering as I wait for the water to warm up. Blood swirls down my thighs and stains the floor red. I can’t stop staring at it for some reason, my mind on Ivy Hightower’s perfect dead body.
Just like Pen’s.
Too perfect to really be dead, too perfect for any of that morbidity to be real. Because dead people—people like Danny Ensbrook—look ugly when they die. They smell, and they bloat, and they crawl.
Penelope just looked … asleep. Like Ivy.
“You stupid fucker,” I growl, closing my eyes under the spray of the water. I strip my clothes off and then stand there with my arms wrapped over my chest, thinking about the Thing. About my sister. About the note on her phone, and the pills on her bed.
But none of that really means she killed herself. Neil could’ve put a gun to her head and forced her to write the note, take the pills. Half of me wonders how I didn’t think of this before, and the other half of me is convinced that I must be a moron to come up with a story that’s so far-fetched.
I hear the door open and peak around the curtain as thick, wet fog swirls around the bathroom. Aaron puts the tampons and menstrual cups on the counter, along with a water bottle and some ibuprofen.
“You’re our first Havoc Girl,” he says, looking down at the items on the counter like he’s happy to see them there. This is getting intimate, and I’m not sure that I like it. “And our first period, so take it easy on us, okay?”
“Don’t act like sexist pricks, and I’ll do my best, okay? And tell Oscar I can still strangle him, bleeding out of the vagina or no.”
“I’ll make sure to deliver that message,” Aaron tells me, watching me for a moment before he steps out of the bathroom and closes the door behind him. My heart flip-flops strangely as I imagine him smiling on the other side of that door, happy to have his girlfriend back, happy to be a part of her life in the most intimate way possible.
