Outside My Boundaries

Chapter 9

"I look like a freaking whale!" Peyton whined, poking her flat stomach.

I shot her a glare, and said, "No I do!" I slapped my stomach.

We both groaned, and continued to stuff our faces with junk food. I was currently gobbling down some Hershey Kisses, and Peyton had her head inside a bag of Lays. I glanced in the mirror, and frowned, poking at my bloated cheek. "We look like-like fat chipmunks!" I exclaimed. Peyton grumbled an agreement, and we put aside the food.

We sat there, staring blankly at the ceiling, when my mom burst into the room. "Girls! Why aren't you in school?" She gasped.

I glared at her and muttered, "It's that time of the month." She gave me a look, and I knew what it meant. Get your lazy butts to school or you die. I groaned and padded to my closet, Peyton on my heels.

When I opened the door, I grabbed Peyton one of Blake's football hoodies, and when she slipped into it, I swear I saw her inhale some of it's scent. My mind is probably tricking me though. I passed her a pair of my yoga pants, and I slipped into a similar attire, and went to grab another one of Blake's hoodies, but all that was left was Mason's football sweatshirt and my grandma's shawl. The choice was obvious.

∞

We made it to school, my hair in a messy knot on top of my head, Peyton's twisted into a tight bun. We had our hoods pulled over our faces, and sunglasses blocking the school light out of our eyes. I saw a few kids looking at me strangely, and I snapped, "What the hell are you looking at? You expect us to look like movie stars everyday? I don't think so buddy. Get a reality check. This is school for the love of the holy mother in hell! Not a fashion show." The kid cowered in a corner, and we stormed past, me grumbling under my breath about how idiotic the students in this school are.

I arrived at the classroom first, and Austen walked right over, chocolate bar in hand. When Peyton walked in behind me, seconds later, he groaned, and buried his head in his hands. "We are all doomed." He mumbled under his breath.

I snatched the chocolate bar out of his hand, sending him a death glare, and turned around, dragging Peyton to the back of the classroom. We split the chocolate, stuffing our faces, and groaning about cramps. It was not fun. I felt like someone had just punched me in my metaphorical dick for gods sake! And guys thought they had it hard. They should try being kicked in their sports equipment 24/7 for 5 days every single month.

I squirmed in my seat, clutching my stomach, as an especially bad cramp developed in my abdomen. I was curled into a ball, hugging my knees and rocking back and forth. I saw my math teacher shoot us both wary glances. Peyton, who was looking really pale, and me. I probably looked like I had just been almost hit by a car. You know, Post-Traumatic-Stress-Syndrome.

My teachers knew when it was our "hell week", because they learned from experience not to call on us when we are like this. Peyton just remains silent. I, on the other hand, go off on them about how unjust it is to have me answer a question in such dire times. And the part they liked least was that I always out-spoke them.

I pressed my face against the cool, smooth surface of the desk, and groaned again. I let my vision go out of focus, and all of my thoughts drifted to the indescribable pain that seemed to be tripling in my stomach. People move to fast. I thought absent-mindedly. I watched everyone move around the classroom, seeming as though they were on fast forward.

I heard Austen say my name through the whir of the various voices. I peered up angrily, to see Blake and Mason, Blake with a worried expression, and Mason with a confused one. I wondered what he was confused about. You'd think with all the females he hung out with he'd be used to PMS-ing so far. I guess not.