Chapter 14
Elizabeth
I’m working my first shift of the week at the diner, and I know it’s coming; I’ve been feeling the cramps all day, my back is sore, and my tits feel massive…
urgh, I hate my period. I’m already on birth control to try and lessen the impact they have on me, but for four days every month, I feel like absolute shit.
I haven’t been with Angel yet during a period so I’ve got no idea what he’s going to be like; some guys are great, it doesn’t even phase them, and on the rare occasion I feel in the mood they’re happy to get involved regardless of how messy it gets.
But other guys, well, they can be assholes.
So what, it’s okay to watch action and horror movies full of blood and gore but you can’t handle a period—fucking ridiculous.
The diner is quiet, so I pull out my phone and fire off a message to Angel.
Just a heads up, but I got my period. You can still come over to sleep, but if you don’t want to that’s cool. I know some guys like to steer clear. Just let me know, so I know whether to get the bus or not.
His reply comes through almost immediately.
Doesn’t bother me. See you at 3.
I chuckle, not even bothering to try and interpret his message, honestly it could mean anything. It will be easier just to wait and ask him in person later.
Usually, he waits outside for me on his bike, but tonight, at five minutes to three, the door opens and in he walks.
“Hey beautiful,” he says, walking up to me with a smile and putting his arms around me in a gentle hug. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay, you didn’t have to come in, I know where to find you.”
“I know,” he says, “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay, and I was gonna see if you needed any help with Brian.”
“Why would I need help with Brian? ”
“Well he’s gonna need to take it easy on you this week, give you extra breaks and stuff.”
“And… why would he need to do that?”
He looks at me as though I’m crazy, then lowers his voice, “Elizabeth, you text me and told me you’ve got your period.”
“So?”
“So, they can be uncomfortable and painful for some people, you need to make sure you take it easy.”
I can’t help but laugh. “As much as I wish everyone thought like that, the world doesn’t stop every time someone gets their period, otherwise nothing would ever get done.”
“But—”
“Angel,” I quieten him with a hand on his chest, “I’m fine, I deal with it, it doesn’t affect work or college. Okay?”
“Okay,” he nods reluctantly. “But you tell me if he has you doing anything that makes you feel worse.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “I will, I promise. Now let me grab my stuff.”
He takes my hand as we leave the diner, but I don’t see his bike anywhere, instead he leads me to a shiny black car.
“No bike?”
“I thought you’d be more comfortable in the car this week,” he says, opening the passenger side door for me.
What the fuck is happening? Here I was, thinking he’d disappear for a week, and instead he’s turned into the fucking period whisperer.
I get in the car, surprised at how nice it is: leather seats, digital display, fully detailed.
“Is this yours?”
“Nah, it’s the clubs,” he says, “I’m just borrowing it for the week. You like it?”
“Hmm… I prefer your bike, but I won’t say no to some luxury th is week.”
“Good,” he says, starting the ignition and leaving the parking lot.
We make it back to my apartment and I start to settle in, taking off my shoes and dropping my backpack, it’s only then that I notice he also has a bag with him.
“What’s in the bag?”
“Stuff.”
I chuckle. “Helpful, what kind of stuff?”
“Stuff that might help you feel better.”
He removes the items, placing them on the table: a hot water bottle, chocolate, big fluffy socks…
“What the fuck?”
“What?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I raise my hands, “I’m just surprised; didn’t have you down as the type of guy who knows what to get a girl when she’s on her period.”
“Yeah well,” he says, looking down at the contents of the bag, “I Googled it.”
“You Googled it?” I ask, breaking out into another laugh.
“Yeah, I Googled it, why the fuck are you laughing at me?”
“I’m sorry, you’re right, I shouldn’t laugh,” I say, bringing my hand over my mouth. “What exactly did you Google?”
I’m desperately trying to keep a straight face.
“How can I help my girlfriend when she’s on her period?”
“Oh my god.” I pull him into me and look up at him. “You’re adorable. ”
He rolls his eyes. “Fuck you, do you want this shit or not?”
“Yes, I want it. But come here first.” I pull him into a kiss before leaning back and whispering, “I can’t believe you told Google I’m your girlfriend.”
“Alright, alright. Take your fucking chocolate and your fluffy socks and get into bed, I’m gonna make up this hot water bottle. Put some girly rom-com shit on your laptop to watch.”
I’m laughing, but I also can’t get over how unbelievably sweet he’s being. As I snuggle down into bed with my new socks, season one of Heartstopper, and some chocolate, I watch him wait for the water to boil and can’t help but think how lucky I am.
Diablo
It’s nearly 3 a.m. on Friday morning, and I’m waiting in the car for Elizabeth, looking at a picture of us on my phone.
I’d taken it after her Monday shift, when we were snuggled down in bed together to watch stuff, with her new fluffy socks and the chocolate I’d brought, a hot water bottle nestled between us.
It was the first time we’d been in her apartment and not ended up having sex, but we were still having an amazing time, even if she’d laughed at me for Googling how to help her when she’s on her period.
I know it’s probably stupid, a man in his mid-twenties not knowing how to look after his girl during her time of the month, but I’ve never had to think about that shit before, and I wanted to make sure I was treating her right.
When it comes to relationships, I don’t exactly have the best role models; there’s no way in a million years Frank would have ever bought my mom chocolate or a hot water bottle, I want to be better than him.
This picture of us makes me so fucking happy, I wish I could set it as my lock screen, like the other guys do when they have a girlfriend, but we’re still keeping us quiet.
In the photo, we’re lying on our backs with the camera held above us, she’s looking up into the camera smiling while I’m nuzzling into the side of her face, my eyes closed, completely happy.
She loves it too, so I sent it to her, and knowing that she probably looks at it makes me smile.
The passenger side door opens, and in she sits, a huge grin on her face.
“Hey,” she says, leaning over the center console to kiss me.
“Hey, how was your shift?”
“It was good, the usual people and a few passers through. Senor Perez came by, and we ate cake together, I’ve got you to thank for that.”
“What do you mean?”
She chuckles. “That first time you came into the diner, you paid for your meal with a hundred-dollar bill, but it only came to like, thirty dollars, so I’ve been using the leftover cash to pay for his soup and cake.”
“Fair enough. You know that money was meant for you though, right?”
“Yeah, but I was so pissed off at the time, thinking you were flashing your money by giving me a tip which is basically what I get paid for the entire shift. So that’s why I put it aside for Senor Perez.”
“Wait, what?” I ask, trying to work out the math. “How much do you get paid? ”
“It’s a diner, Angel, I get fifteen dollars an hour, and that’s more than some people make, trust me.”
“You get paid less than a hundred dollars a night to work in that diner, while trying to pay off your parents’ medical bills and renting your own place?” I ask.
“Pretty much.”
She shrugs as though this is normal. I know I’m out of touch with legit working and wages, shit, most of the money I have in savings all comes from illegal work.
It may not be ethical, but running drugs and guns certainly pays well.
Even now, working at the garage, the amount we can charge for our work means we’re more than comfortable, and the money I earn is mine as I live at the club, so I don’t pay rent or a mortgage.
“Well,” I say, “that needs to change.”
“Excuse me?”
“That needs to change,” I say again. “It’s crazy, Elizabeth. You’re running yourself into the ground; with college, and your diner shifts, you’re barely earning enough money to survive, and you live in a sketchy-ass neighborhood.” I shake my head. “No, I can’t have that, you should’ve told me.”
“I can’t have that?” she says, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“It means, ‘I can’t have that’. I’m not having my girl working herself ragged for no money, not on my watch. Not when it’s my job to look after you.”
“Oh, that’s what you think, that I need looking after?” She crosses her arms and moves closer to the passenger door, away from me. “I’m doing the best I can with what I’ve got.”
“I didn’t mean it like that, you know I didn’t.”
“So what?” she scoffs, “You want me to come and work at the club, dress up like the girls, serve you drinks, entertain the bikers that ride through. Would that earn me more? ”
“No,” I say, gripping the steering wheel at the thought of her entertaining other bikers. “I mean, yeah, it would earn you way more than a hundred dollars a night, but no, that’s not what I want either.”
“So what then, if things need to change, what’s the solution?” she asks.
“I’m not saying I have a solution; I’m just saying that you deserve better than this, you’re better than that diner. Shit, you wanna be a writer, or a literature teacher, it’s all you talk about, that’s what you should be focusing on.”
“Yeah well, that’s easier said than done.”
“I’m not saying it’s easy…” I pause trying to think of the words, “Elizabeth, I’m asking you to let me help you.”
She goes quiet, retreating into her thoughts, and I let her, knowing she needs space to process. Silence fills the car and I try and focus on the drive, I just want her to trust me enough to let me help.