Little Miss Babysitter

-- 20 --

The explanation had arrived.

The reason why I had been so caught up in the manly scent of Nathaniel Rider's fumes. A big, bloody mystery that even I was relieved to have finally discovered.

At the break of dawn, Friday, the 23rd of October, I got my period.

- - -

My eyes were flooded with sunlight, and I winced internally, reminding myself to buy curtains. Or wooden boards so I could hole myself up in here and never come out.

A strange feeling of wet slobber lapped on my chin, neck, jaw, and I groaned like a cow in the process of giving birth to a walrus. Swatting whatever it was away with a massive fling of my pillow, I dug my way into my duvet, and snapped my eyes shut.

However, that only fueled the pestering on, and almost losing my sanity all together, I bolted upright, and screamed my rage in the form of ugly snarls and cries.

Bristol, my semi-harmless Chihuahua, flew like an eagle off of the blanket, and proceeded to cower in fear behind the overturned laundry basket by the door frame. Her tail tucked between her legs, and her triangle ears doubled over to resemble that of folded paper, she looked terribly frightened and one step away from flopping on the ground and passing out.

"Oh, Bristol baby. It's only you." I gave an ill smile, and crammed my feet into the slippers by my bedside. "I haven't seen you much, now have--"

I hardly got one foot out of bed, before a seam splitting pain hiked up my sides, and settled down in the pit of my stomach, knifing at my organs. I groaned, digging my elbows into my navel.

Well. This is pleasant.

While I was busy pummeling away at my stomach to try and ease some of the tense pain, a gurgling, tingly sensation at the back of my throat had me up and into the bathroom in no time, before my dinner of steamed vegetables and boiled chicken made a grand reappearance to the world of the living.

The pain in my throat tripled, along with the cutting machete in my gut, and I cried out into the air, hoping someone would just end it all.

Fuck girls, fuck life, and fuck periods! FUCK!

I clambered onto the toilet seat, tearing off my shorts, and dug my face into my knees. The moderate 'Child's Pose' I was in was helping to ease the constant throbbing of my uterus, more so than it did before, so I stayed like that for a matter of minutes. Then, I took notice of the tidal wave of red lining my previously baby green panties.

It looked like a ketchup warehouse exploded, a biased rainbow, or a thick man was stabbed with a corkscrew. That's how much blood there was, without getting into too much detail and graphic content.

Then reality dawned on me, that this had been the reason I had obsessed over the Rider boy for the passed few days! This! My hormones must have taken the wheel, and spun me down the loony path, since right then, at that moment, the very image of that of the male gender made me want to hurl up whatever organs I still had left in my body. You know, that weren't stabbed to death by that knife in my stomach. Still haven't forgotten about that, nope.

Wait. That could very much so be the case. Why do I want to curl up in bed and die, rather than go out and watch Nate, out of all people, play baseball?

The very thought of having to see his, or any boy's face for that matter, was completely and atrociously revolting.

Thank god it wasn't anything serious. I mean, those twisty feelings in my stomach whenever I thought of him. Thank god it was just this. I don't want to know what it would do to us if it wasn't..

I hissed a sigh through my gritted teeth, and brought a distressed hand through my mane, taming it bit by bit.

Guilt washed over my being as I suddenly realized I was fully intent on staying home and eating, pooping, or sleeping, and not going to his baseball game, like I had originally promised. At Statner's? Yeah. I did promise. I have his jacket somewhere under my bed to prove it. Dammit.

I padded the stains with crumpled toilet paper, tainting my hands, and gagging yet again.

And before I knew it, I was back on my hands and knees, hurling everything from yesterday's morning pancakes, to the taco dinner I had the night before. All thanks to lovely Mother Nature, patting me on the back with her slimy tentacles. If she dared come near me, I'd sock one right to her in the face. See how she likes that!

There's no way I'm going to make it to that game. Not when my thoughts are shrouded over by pictures of gory, putrid death scenes of various R rated films, as well as a hacksaw to all males' genetalia. I'm just.. Not. In. The. Mood.

Fuck promises. I'm staying home.

I dull vibration from my ass makes a fresh batch of internal fluids come up, for god knows why, and I grapple for my pocket. Retrieving it in record time, I flick on my phone, only to grimace at the screen.

Nate Rider: be @ ur house in 10. be ready angel. ;)

I typed furiously away at the keyboard, my own thumbs cramping up at how harshly I was stabbing the screen.

Me: how do you know where i live?! did i ask for you to pick me up?! um, no! just leave me alone!

Barely moments later, the screen flashed, and I groaned again.

Nate Rider: Woah! someone woke up on the rong side of the bed today. no worries. ill make it 15, then. just for you :*

Me: i hate you so so so so so so so much. do i really have to go?

Nate Rider: ...You don't want to come?

Me: no.

Nate Rider: 2 bad. see u in 15.

And with that, I proceeded to hurtle into my room and throw on whatever clothes came in my unfortunate coarse. Of course, they should have known not to be as stupid as to lie carelessly about, for I rip at my clothes when 'this time of the month' comes around. Not sure why. Just a habit.

Sucks for them.

Fuck promises!

❀❀❀❀❀❀

"I'm gonna go out on a whim here, and say that you don't like me very much."

Apart from the nagging feeling at the back of my throat, every second of every minute, I sure as hell lucked out on this one.

No, seriously. Get ready for this.

Okay, so when we got here, obviously the place was packed to the fullest. I couldn't walk two steps before I bumped into a block looking man with a cheese dog and a beer. More often than not they had red bandanas on their bald, shiny heads, and thick white mustaches blanketing their upper lips. All in all, they looked like a poster board for Red Bull or Jack Daniels. Enough said.

Now, with the constant fear of losing my footing and getting hacked to pieces by one of the angry baseball goers, on top of my decreasing stomach health, you could say I would rather be strapped up at the dentist.

And the lord knows I hate, absolutely hate, Dr. Ferleger.

"Hold my hand, okay? It's easy to get lost."

"No! How do I know you don't have some very questionable substances right there on your very palm? You know, kissing is more hygenic."

I glared at him under the drooped rim of my baseball cap, of which he had so kindly bought for me, in exchange that I would wear it for the rest of the day. Mason and Liam looked astranged between us, their eyes snapping to and fro.

Nate's green eyes twinkled brightly, and he returned my bloodthirsty glare with an acute grin.

"Are you suggesting that you want to kiss me?" He winked, the twins gasping.

"No! Ugh. Fine! I'll hold your hand!" I seethed, snatching his hand, and squeezing with all my might. He winced a bit, before clamping his fingers around mine, quickly overpowering me.

Why this poor excuse for a human would want to hold my hand, I'll never know.

He led us towards an unoccupied water fountain, covered in chewed gum and brown stains. He turned to me then, a secretive glint to his eyes, making me want to explode in his face for not coming straight through with it.

I will tear him limb from limb if he doesn't--

"Um, make sure, wherever you sit, that you're watching." He brought our hands in front of us, gazing down at them. "I, we need to win this."

I used my free hand to zip up the jacket to my chin, burrying my neck. "Go on..."

"I'm the second baseman. Just keep an eye out." He smiled then, his cheery self reappearing. He released my hands, thank god. They were sweaty. He skipped gleefully over to the doors where I knew the entrance of the field to be, before turning back.

The amount of people at the vendors and shops had miraculously decreased, and few were caught lingering. The majority had gathered in their seats, cheering on the players to come out of hiding from their dens.

"Oh, and Ela?" He said softly.

"What." I bit back a harsh tone, trying my best to be genuinely calm and kind. I could almost feel the pool of moist crap inside my underpants, making me want to go check every other minute if I was showing.

"Cross your fingers for me, okay?" He bit his lip, and his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

The action and the words, they took me by surprise, they did. I had not once been around to see Nate Rider worried or concerned about anything, for that matter. The fact that he could possibly be overthinking things, which is a rarity since he never thinks about anything, brings an unwanted, boiling feeling in the bottom of my stomach.

I didn't like to see him so nervous. He was the foundation of a composed person, and even when that shattered to pieces before your very eyes, you know something's terribly wrong.

This game must be ridiculously important.

And by the time I was finished assessing the situation at hand, a hand was waved in my face. I blinked twice, finding none other than the grinning Chuck E. Cheese boy, Nekou, at my side. How I was put next to him, in exactly the 12th riser, row E, seat 25 and 26, I'll never know.

"Why would I not like you?" I felt sorrow wash over my body, and I almost had the urge to bring him into my arms and hug his doubts away.

The corners of his lips twitched into a smirk, and he shook his head. "You okay there?"

What type of inconsiderate twat asks that?! "Of course I'm okay! You don't just ask someone that!"

"Here." He laughs, handling an orange bottle of what I'd only assume to be pills. "My sister just hit that time, she's 13, and she's got massive mood swings. Big time. These seem to do the trick for her outbursts. I swear they're 100% legal."

Interest. "Oh. Really?"

"Yup. Here." He smiled warmly, two green tablets residing peacefully in the ditch of his palm. "I have a water bottle in my bag."

After downing them quickly with his charity water, I instantly felt cleaner. As if my whole being was scrubbed feverishly with a soft rock, melting my skin into a puddy like gel.

"These aren't drugs?" I glanced at the chatty twins by my side before talking in a hushed voice.

"Ok." He nodded wildly, triggering my mind to go into panic mode.

Did he really... Just..

"Oh m-- Ela, you're too much." He fell back into his plastic seat, clutching his sides in laughter. Oh, he'll be clutching them soon enough. Just not in laughter, ya little shit. "No, I got them at the drugstore."

"Thank god." I sighed, letting my attention span dwindle down, as I glanced back at the twins. They were playing some game with their fingers, and personally, I was too exhausted from cramps to even try and pay attention.

As if sensing my incoming headache, the stands started to uproar, rising swiftly from their seats, and screaming their heads off.

I could almost feel the blood pouring from my ears and trickling down my temples.

The sun beat down harsher than usual, making my arms start to sweat. I've always had a thing, one part of my body sweating more than the rest, and that place was strangely my arms. I never knew why.

I found myself starring, as the players from the pits slowly made their way out onto the field. They were waving and blowing kisses to the crowd, only making them grow even more psychotic by the second.

Liam and Mason pounded their palms together, red and blue foam fingers placed peacefully on their hands. I was sure the pointer finger was due to rip off at any moment, courtesy of the vicious flaps both of them made in synchrony.

"Let's get this game on the road!" The announcer boomed over the teleprompter, his voice deep and soothing.

We sat in an exhausted wave of blabber. And let me tell you. It was terrible.

The hardly contained ruckus of sweaty bodies possibly made my eardrums pop, dragging out each painful thump at the backside of my brain all the more. The guttural grunts and bellows rumbled from the chests of overly impulsive hicks standing clear up from their seats. They sounded like an erupting volcano, or a garbage dispenser with an unfortunate piece of silverware caught inside.

The purple and black players were on the field now, an indigo Raven's beak painted neatly on the brim. They looked fierce, bulky, and overly muscled. Yikes. Now I can understand why Nate was so nervous. One simple push by one of these guys and you'll go flying. Undoubtedly.

I ruffled the collar of Nate's jacket, fuzzy on my body. An upside down 2 was plastered directly on the right collar bone. A light smile played at my lips, gazing across the field to try and find him.

His teams' colors are red and white, so he'll be up to bat then. Good luck, Nate.

You'll need it.

"First up, we have Sam Hawkings, number forty-nine!" The middle aged voice rang out again, making me jump and clutch my ears. A skimpy looking boy waddled up to the plate, dragging his shoes in the browned dust, before stretching his muscles. "Hawkings' scored four home-runs in the last three games! I'd call that an arm! Let's just hope he can keep up with the Statner's Ravens, this year. As we all know, Statner has a twenty win streak against North Brinley's Grizzlies. Let's see if Statner prevails!"

"Don't know what type of drugs he's on, but it's certainly not the ones I just gave you." Nekou chuckled, kicking his feet up on the chair in front of him. Thankfully, no one was sitting in it, so he didn't have to go into a showdown with an angry brute who could have possibly been kicked in the head.