“You know what, sure, why not?” Dylan says, plopping down on the couch, and I chuckle, slipping away from Jack to find an unopened water bottle.
I move their game of Irish Poker out of the way on the coffee table, holding out my hand for Dylan to hand me the tampon he opened, and I wish Ellie was here to witness this. “Okay, so first, you obviously take off the wrapper which Dylan already did, and if it had an S, it means it’s a super for when your period is heavier, and you’re trying not to bleed through it.”
“I’m sorry, you can bleed through your tampons?” Nate asks, and I’m wondering what else they don’t know about female anatomy, because they all should have had to pass a health class to graduate high school.
“If you don’t change them so often, yeah,” I say, cracking the lid on the water. “So basically the lid is the vagina, and you’d insert the applicator.” I demonstrate, not pushing the plunger in yet, trying to take this seriously, when all I really want to dois laugh at their ridiculousness. “Once it’s far enough in, you push the plunger, and the tampon is inserted,” I say, watching the cotton expand as a visual. “Then you take out the applicator, throw it away, and go about your day. Any questions?”
The room is silent as all four of them stare at me, and I purse my lips, trying not to crack.
“I’m sorry, you walk around with that just in you?” Nate asks, and Coop grimaces.
“No wonder Ellie gets so pissed off on her period.”
I scoff, nodding. “And then in addition to having to use these, you’re also constantly checking when you get up from sitting to make sure you didn’t bleed through onto the chair. Then there are cramps, mood swings, and the hormones that can cause your face to break out. Some people get them twice a month, and they can last anywhere from three to seven days. It’s straight up, not a good time.”
“How do you get it out?” Dylan asks.
I hold up the string I left hanging out of the bottle, and his face pales. “You pull it out, wrap it in toilet paper, throw it away, and replace it with another.”
“I am so sorry,” Jack says, shaking his head as he stares at the water bottle.
I can’t hold my laughter back anymore, and I double over, laughing until I can’t breathe. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you guys,” I squeak out, gasping for air. “This is amazing.”
“That is horrible,” Dylan asks, taking a long drink of his beer.
“Maybe you should spend more time familiarizing yourselves with female anatomy,” I say, getting up from the floor, still laughing.
How the hell am I supposed to focus on our essays now?
CHAPTER 34
Jack
I haven’t beenable to keep my hands off Alondra since the moment she arrived.
Whether it’s having my hand on her thigh while I drove her back from the airport, or having my hand on her lower back as we walk. It’s like Al isn’t really here if I don’t have my hands on her.
It was cute Alondra was worried what Momma would think when I put her bags in my room, but Momma told me she’s not oblivious about what’s happening at school, and it saves me from having to sneak into the guest room later.
I might’ve accidentally eaten the cookies Momma made for Al, and I found the secret stash she hid, so I’m doing my best to replicate the recipe. Self-control has never been one of my strengths, especially when it comes to these cookies.
I think I’ve followed the recipe, and it looks the way it’s supposed to, but Al looks skeptical from where she sits on the counter next to me.
“Come on, Al, just try it please.”
“Pretty sure there’s a reason Coop warned me not to ever eat anything you try to make. Something about food poisoning?” she teases, and of course she brings up the one time Coop askedme to make dinner, and I didn’t check to see if the chicken had expired first.
I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest. She’s been sitting on the counter next to me the whole time. “It was one time, and he’s never let me forget it. I followed Momma’s recipe exactly, and you’ve been watching me make it,” I say, handing Al the recipe, and the little checkmarks I made in pencil next to each step and ingredient.
Al chews on her lower lip, before nodding. “Fine, but if it’s bad, never again,” she says, and before she can change her mind, I grab a spoon from the drawer, scooping cookie dough on it to hand to her. Al’s cheeks are rosy, and her curls are falling over her shoulders.
She takes a small bite, but it’s the cringe she tries to hide from me that gives away the fact I messed up somewhere along the way. I reach for her water bottle, handing it to her while also reaching for the recipe card to see where I could have gone wrong.
“I followed the recipe, and it looks fine?” I stare at the bowl, and it looks the exact same as when Momma makes it, but no one makes that face when they eat hers. “I don’t know what I got wrong?”
I dip my spoon in, trying it, and the amount of salt I put in this is criminal. I swallow it, grabbing my water immediately to wash away the taste. Holy shit, I must’ve mixed up the letters.
Alondra coughs, clearing her throat. “I think next time, you should try it before you ask me to,” she croaks, and I feel my cheeks heat as I rub the back of my neck. This is beyond embarrassing.
