Chapter 2- A Crampy Night
1942 Words
EMILY
Two weeks later…
Glancing at my crimson wristwatch, I'm hit with the realization that it's already seven in the evening. Tonight was supposed to be the night I cooked dinner for my mom, but thanks to Amber and her irresistible persuasion, we ended up at a trendy campus pub for some liquid courage. And now, my perfectly planned schedule is in shambles.
I tilt my head back, relishing the fiery sensation of the Cosmo as it cascades down my throat, warming my belly. It's only my second time indulging in more than a mere sip of alcohol in my entire existence.
You see, I've always despised the taste of beer, wine, gin, and every other concoction. But strangely enough, this time, the high-quality vodka seems to be stirring up a different kind of excitement within me.
Curt must have spilled the beans to Amber about how stressed I've been lately, and being the foxy friend she is, she pounced on the opportunity to drag an easy prey into her drinking escapades.
"I think it's time for me to go," I say, shooting an apologetic look at my companion, who's now under the influence of whatever Ladies' Night special she's been indulging in. Her impeccably sleek jet-black hair now resembles a bundle of hay that's been dyed black and ravaged by a fierce monsoon, and her rosy cheeks are verging on crimson. I give a nod of approval to the busboy, signaling him to clear our table before Amber can protest and order another round.
"Oh come on, Em. Stop being such a wuss, it’s still early…" she slurs, tugging me back into my seat with minimal effort. She's been rambling on about her stepbrother, convinced that he's been flirting with her and driving her to the brink of confusion. The way her eyes evade mine whenever I question her tells me she's also attracted to him. Perhaps there's more to their dynamic, judging by her deep sighs and frustrated gestures, but it's too early to say for sure.
"Let's call it a night before you start doing some… inappropriate stuff with me again," I playfully tease, a mischievous grin stretching across my face. Amber is quite the character when she's had a few too many drinks.
"Oh shut up," she rolls her eyes, and we both dissolve into laughter. I know she's pondering the same thoughts that are swirling in my mind.
Amber, much like me, has never had a boyfriend. For the love of Moses, she has the looks and appeal of Megan Fox during her Transformers era so it’s pretty mind-boggling. Boys would willingly dance on the sharp edge of a knife just for a chance with her, yet she remains uninterested in everyone.
Apart from Curt, she's my only genuine friend. Well, there's also Maddison, a classmate who occasionally engages in conversation with me.
Amber and I crossed paths last semester in the university library, in a strange yet amusing encounter. It was late, nearly closing time, and the silence engulfed the space, so I thought I was alone. As I walked towards the back corner to grab some books for my laboratory homework, I discovered Amber slouched against the last shelf, eyes closed. Her flushed cheeks gave her the appearance of a perfectly ripe tomato. I crouched down and asked if she was okay, but I received no response, so I gently shook her shoulder, prompting her eyes to flutter open and reveal a sly smile. I asked again if she was alright, only to be met with a few seconds of prolonged eye contact, her smile still intact. Despite her tousled black hair and disheveled state, I remembered thinking how beautiful she was.
To my surprise, she suddenly reached for my ID, pulling me closer. The scent of alcohol emanating from her breath invaded my nostrils.
And then, the most unexpected thing happened.
The sound of her lips smacking against my cheek sent an electrifying wave of chills throughout my body. She freaking kissed me!
Naturally, I wasn't prepared for what followed. Before I could react, she unleashed a projectile of vomit all over my chest, drenching me in a putrid mix of puke and the lingering stench of hard liquor.
Since the day I set foot on this university campus, my social life had been an endless cycle of monotony - until that fateful day. Long story short, I accompanied her to the clinic, leaving her with my number and making me promise to inform me of her well-being. Then, I returned home to cleanse myself of the unpleasant encounter. The next day, she called, profusely apologizing, and suggested we meet at the Student Center.
Despite her seemingly carefree demeanor, Amber is actually a junior nursing student. The night before our encounter at the library, she had been partying hard and was still drinking at 7 a.m. the next day. Our friendship was born out of that bizarre meeting.
Last semester, we had one class together and grew closer as a result. However, this semester, she has been busier and we rarely see each other. While she had already made other friends at school before me, our friendship was unique and special.
As I enter my house after leaving the pub, Curt greets me with a toothy grin, his blue rubber braces shining brightly. He didn’t inform me that he was coming over for dinner tonight. My mom had probably invited him at the last minute.
"Ah, you're here," I say to him dismissively. My brother Lance and my dad are engaged in a low conversation at the dining table while my mom prepares dinner.
I nervously search for any sign of disappointment in Mom’s eyes as they meet mine. To my surprise, she smiles widely at me instead.
"Curt told me you went out with Amber," she says, her light brown eyes sparkling with joy. "I made your favorite dish."
A wave of relief washes over me as she gestures for me to take a seat. When Mom smiles, her already small eyes become even smaller, giving her a charming Asian appearance. She has some Chinese heritage, which is evident in her petite frame and features.
My stomach growls loudly at the sight of the beef fajitas and garlic rice on the table. Laughter fills the room, indicating that everyone else heard it too.
"Someone's tummy must be really hungry," Curt comments before digging into his food. He lives in the campus dorms but despises his roommate Karl, a self-absorbed jerk who spends his time stalking women with large breasts on i********:.
As we sit and eat quietly but happily, I can’t help but think how lucky I am to live with my family, unlike most other students. The only disadvantage is that I cannot exercise my freedom and independence. But in reality, that doesn’t stop me from doing much of anything. Overall, I’m a boring girl who doesn’t go out much and who prefers to stay home on weekends, sprawling on my bed reading romance books that always get women’s hopes up too high or watching chick flicks or gore movies with chicken noodle soup on my lap.
I glance at my mom, who is struggling to bring the spoon to her mouth as she laughs at another one of Curt's lame jokes. I shake my head in amusement and continue eating silently, hoping that the food will help reduce the remnants of alcohol in my system.
Just as I am savoring the juiciness of my mom’s perfectly cooked beef, I grasp my fork a little tighter as I feel the cramps attacking again. It feels like a bodybuilder's hand is squeezing my uterus. God, I’m tired of this already. I look around and remember that the painkiller that I have been popping since last week has already run out.
I drop my fork and discreetly clutch my stomach, not wanting anyone to know about this. My eyes meet Curt's, who is now focused on me, his forehead creased with concern. He sits across from me, his bushy eyebrows raised in question. I shoot him a glare that says, "Shut up."
I push my chair back slightly as the pain intensifies. Damn, it's getting worse this time. I excuse myself to the bathroom, but in reality, I plan to head straight to bed.
I lie in bed, curled up in a fetal position, with a hot water bottle pressed against my lower tummy. You know that feeling when you're not sure what you're feeling?
Uhm, what?
Well, it's the usual menstrual cramps, but this time, there's no blood. It feels like my guts and my uterus are in a freaking race to see who’s going to unload their deposits first. I want to both pee and poop at the same time. I also want to sleep, but I have to study for my report on suicide and its prevalence in today's society, which is due tomorrow.
I'd been in this position for almost an hour when a knock on the door startled me. I know it's Mom, and Curt has probably spilled the beans.
Ugh, that guy.
Pretending to be soundly asleep under the comforter, I feel her slowly inching towards the bed in the dark. The mattress sinks slightly as she sits on the edge beside me.
"I know you're awake, sweetie," her voice is soothing. It has always brought me comfort in stressful or emotional situations. My eyes flicker, and I debate whether to "wake up" or continue pretending. The silence between us is deafening.
"Curt told me you’ve been having some period problems," she declares.
See? I’m right. He told her. He just couldn't keep his mouth shut.
As she flicks on the bedside lamp, I reluctantly open my eyes and find her gazing at me with an expression of tender concern. I bury my face in the pillow and let out a groan of frustration.
"That little twerp…" I mutter under my breath.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she runs her fingers through my hair lovingly, as if I'm still her little princess.
"You need to see a doctor. It breaks my heart to see you like this. You should have told me." Her voice drips with sweetness, momentarily soothing my pain. Ah, the wonders mothers can do.
"But I don't want to see a doctor. I don’t want them to give me shots, make me take medicine, prod and poke me, and invade my personal space." I confess. The unspoken fear lingers in my mind - the thought of exposing my most private parts to a complete stranger sends shivers down my spine. In our modern society, I stand as a conservative, prudish, and virginal minority.
She sighs and continues stroking my hair, treating me like her little girl.
"But you have to, Emily. Curt mentioned how you've been distracted at school for weeks now."
I roll over and turn away from her, my brows furrowing with disapproval.
"Emily..." she pleads once more, but I choose to ignore her, my irritation growing not only towards her but also toward Curt. The nagging pain in my groin intensifies, adding fuel to my annoyance.
After a few moments of silent pleading, I hear her sigh in defeat. She pulls the comforter up, switches off the light, and leans down to plant a kiss on my cheek. Warmth spreads across my face, and in the darkness, a faint smile tugs at my lips.
The pain should go away tomorrow, so she'll change her mind about dragging me to the doctor. If not, then good luck to me.
- Writer
