The Bad Boy's Phobia

{ c h a p t e r t h i r t y t w o - t h e l o v e f o r e s t }

Dedicated to schummpje :)

Chapter Thirty Two

-Cole Anderson-

"Where did everyone go?" I asked curiously while I jumped on her bed.

"If you had been awake and aware, you would've heard them announce that they'll be buying food for your birthday tomorrow," she scoffed, the expression on her face I caused with my prank was still not changing.

"But there is no near food grocery stores at this area. The nearest store is Costco which is a 4 hour drive," I pointed out. "And my bad, I was too occupied catching a lizard."

"Yeah, they'll be gone most of the day to buy your birthday stuff," she huffed and sashayed away from me and sat in Paul's bed. I furrowed my eyebrow. Did I really scared her away when I made it look like I was going to kiss her?

You do want to kiss her, my mind whispered.

"So that means that we'll be spending the day together, huh?" I sat up, a smirk forming on my lips. She made a disgusted face at me.

"There's no way in hell that I'm spending the day with you. I'd rather lock myself up in the cabin to be with in your presence," she frowned.

"So you're saying that you'll rather stay here than go outdoors and do some fun activities like fishing, climbing trees, or I can tour you around the forest if you'd like," I offered, then suddenly wanted to take my words back. I sounded like I was eager and have gone soft!

Her face softened at my words, but it returned back to her scowl she seems to wear around me. What's up with girls and their moods?

Unless she's on her...

"Are you on your period or something?" I suddenly blurted out.

Shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What the hell did I just said?

I mean, when girls are more bitchy that usual, doesn't period the only perfectly reasonable explanation for their bipolar mood swings?

Oh man, I really wish I didn't say that.

I dashed out of the bed and stood by the door in fear. Her mouth formed into a big O and her eyes expanded as big as a frog's eyeballs. Her face turned to a scarlet color.
"What did you just say?" She emphasized slowly. Oh, oh. Definitely not good. When Mom slowly talks to me, it means that I'm in trouble.

Oh dear God, forgive me for all the sins I've made, but please save me from a woman who possibly is in her period. They're the most dangerous killers of them all. I mean, they bleed a lot down there that killing me would probably be like throwing their used tampon or pads away. My body would never be found.