67. Chapter 3
Twelve hours later, Lule stood in front of the girl’s bathroom mirror wearing what she had now officially labelled her Bimbo outfit - her tightest t-shirt, the one that clung like second skin and showed the outline of her nipples through her bra and her shortest skirt, barely legal and just tight enough to scream ‘flasher alert’.
Her lips were glossy, her hair loose and tousled like she hadn’t tried at all. She had, painfully for an hour.
She caught Jack’s eye outside the cafeteria and gave him the come hither look she’d practised twice in front of her mirror.
He grinned like a predator spotting wounded prey and followed her ten minutes after she walked out swaying her hips.
They ended up in an empty classroom and before the door even closed, his hands were on her groping her like she was a new controller and he was testing the buttons.
He shoved his tongue into her mouth with all the finesse of a Labrador puppy.
She let it happen, resisting the urge to gag, hands on his chest like she was shy, not revolted.
Vomiting into his mouth would just not do.
“Not here,” she whispered into his ear, wriggling out of his grip. “I don’t want to get caught…”
He didn’t let go immediately, just squeezed her ass like it was a stress ball.
“Come to my place after seven,” he said, low, cocky. “Let’s have some fun.”
She noted the hesitation before he came up with that. Like he was weighing something. Changing plans in his head. Rearranging.
Who was the original invitee? she wondered.
Then, playing her part, she gave her best imitation of a vamp. “Will you take more pictures? I loved it when you did that. So, you can remember me. ”
His grin widened. “Hell yeah.”
By evening, she was knocking at his door. She shifted from foot to foot. So much could go wrong.
Jack opened his door with a wide grin. He had a black vest on and his hair was combed back with wat looked like a ton of hair product. He took her hand and pulled her in
“I need to use your bathroom,” she said, casually, heart thundering. The dummy phone was tucked in her back pocket.
“Down the hall,” Jack said, eyeing her up and down like she was a tasty snack.
In the bathroom mirror, she stared at her reflection for five minutes while repeating “you can do this” to herself and then came out looking disappointed.
Jack had already taken his shirt off, flexing slightly as he picked at something in his teeth in the hallway mirror.
“I’ve got my period,” Lule announced, eyes wide and innocent.
Jack blinked, mouth slightly open, as she launched into full performance mode.
“It’s brutal. Like Carrie-level bad. I usually have to be taken to the hospital. You’d better have 112 on speed dial. just in case”
She watched his Adam’s apple bob before he weakly said, “Who is Carrie?”
“You haven’t seen it?” she gasped. “Okay, imagine this- a high school gym, prom night, girl in a dress... and then-SPLASH!” She clapped her hands dramatically, making Jack jump. “Buckets. Buckets of blood. Everywhere.”
She dropped her voice to a whisper, leaning in conspiratorially .
“Last time it happened, I woke up with blood soaked through the mattress. Looked like someone got murdered with a chainsaw. The sheets stuck to my thighs. The landlord came for an inspection and called the coppers.”
Jack’s face contorted in horror.
“And the cramps?” she continued, as if oversharing was a hobby. “Once in maths, I blacked out mid-equation. Just folded over and hit the floor. Thud. They called 112 that time. I was as pale as a corpse, they said.”
He visibly flinched.
“Another time,” she said, warming up now, “I bled through my jeans on the bus. A kid saw it and screamed. I’m pretty sure he has PTSD. I mean, squelch, right?”
“Squelch?” Jack croaked.
“Yeah,” she said, making a wet noise with her mouth. “Every step. It was like walking through a soaked sponge. You are not scared of blood, are you?”
He went pale. White as a sheet and Sweating.
“I ruined Greta’s mum’s cream-coloured sofa once. Didn’t realize until I stood up and everyone just... stared.” She clutched her chest for dramatic effect, “It was like a Rorschach test in human suffering.”
Jack was now gripping the edge of the console table, eyes wide with quiet horror.
“I don’t know what’s happening this month,” she finished with a sigh.
“But I’ve got that feeling. Like my uterus is personally offended and might explode.
So, you know, just wanted to give you a heads-up.
In case you want to put sheets on your white sofa.
The blood never will come off, I tell you. It’s like Macbeth.”
He coughed into his elbow looking confused at the reference, “Uh. Right. ”
She paused, then added cheerfully, “But I brought tissues. Just in case the Niagara Flow starts early.”
Jack stared at her like she’d just confessed to murder. Or cannibalism.
“Want a drink?” he asked weakly.
Her eyes slid to the coffee table. His phone lay face-down on it.
Please don’t take it with you. Please don’t take it with you.
“Sure,” she chirped, watching him bolt toward the kitchen like it might save his soul.
She moved fast. The bright red case didn’t fit quite right-she forced it on the dummy phone with trembling fingers and the real phone disappeared into her back pocket just as she heard his footsteps.
Quickly, she held her own phone up to her ear.
“…No, she’s back already,” she said, pretending to sound annoyed.
“My sister.”, she mouthed.
“She said she knew I was with Jack, did she? And she’s bringing Alec? How did she get Jacks address?”
Jack paused mid-step, glass in hand.
“…No, I’m kind of scared of him. He beat up the last guy I dated. That’s why we’ve been sneaking around. But she knows now. She’s on her way. Just as well.”, she sighed as if put out.
Jack paled. “Seriously?”
Lule nodded solemnly as she pretended like the conversation is over. “Yup. Could be here any minute. Doesn’t matter. I will just tell her we are in love and are getting married. ”
His eyes widened and she could see the white all around his baby blues. He practically threw her coat at her. “You should go”, he ground out in a shaky voice.
“I mean… if we were married, she wouldn’t do anything. She can talk Alec down. He is super protective of his new family” she added sweetly, just to squeeze the last bit of juice out of this while dragging her feet.
“Go,” he snapped, ushering her out.
The door slammed behind her, and for a second, she imagined him leaning against it, wiping sweat from his brow. He smelled like stale Lynx and ego. She was going to bathe in bleach. An unstoppable giggle burst from her lips.
As soon as she walked jauntily through the front gate, she spotted a figure leaning against a tree just off the pavement. Hoodie up and trying to blend in.
“James Bond returns,” Rahul said, stepping out of the shadows.
“I should take up acting”, she said with a wide grin.
“You got it?” he asked, eyes already scanning her pockets.
She pulled it out with a smug grin on her face. “Like a pro.”
He took it gingerly and immediately keyed in 1234. The screen lit up.
“He should be renamed loser101’,” he read with a snort. “He will misspell that. Who puts their passcode as 1234? Your taste in men is abysmal.”
She stared, lips twitching. “Wow. Says the guy who masturbates to manga.”
“Watch your dirty mouth”, Rahul didn’t look up. “I’ll take care of it from here.”
He turned slightly, like he was ready to go and then hesitated .
“…Come on. I’ll walk you home.”
She blinked. “You don’t have to.”
“My mum would kill me if I let you walk home alone”, he grunted.
“Dragging you away from calculus. What a tragedy.”
“Yeah,” he said, face completely serious. “Not happy about that. But this is… interesting.”
They headed toward the tube station, city lights flickering around them.
After a long silence, he said, “I saw you in the cafeteria batting your lashes at him. Looked like you had something in your eye”
She snorted.
“I panicked,” she said. “Not used to this come-hither stuff. Did you like the outfit?”
He paused, then added, “I think it would have fit a ten-year-old. You been saving it since Year 5?”
She gave him a shove with her elbow. “Rude.”
“You asked.”
They sparred the rest of the way - her talking about how she spun her period into a full-blown Carrie scene, him laughing in spite of himself.
When they reached her building - run-down, faded, with the lift permanently out of order - she paused at the front door.
Rahul looked at it as if to check the number like she didn’t know how to read, then back at her.
“Go in,” he said quietly. “And lock the door. ”
She hesitated, then turned and before she could overthink it, she pivoted back and hugged him tight.
“Thank you”, she said in a wobbling voice.
Then, on impulse, she kissed his cheek.
He looked shellshocked.
But only for a second.
Then he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her back.
“He was my first, you know”, she whispered “How could I have been so stupid.”
“It will be over soon. And no matter what happens,” he said awkwardly, “I’ll still hang out with you.”
She laughed into his shoulder while her tears wet his hoodie “Thank you, Rahul. I will too. Always wanted a gay friend.”
He pulled back abruptly, cleared his throat. “Alright. Very funny. Enough with the hug-y shit.”
He nudged her toward the door. “Go on.”