HER | ✓

⍣Ten⍣

Ok so I'm too excited to wait for this. But you see that picture above? Yeah huh, Lily Collins actually liked my banner for this book and I'm just wowed. A million different emotions right now, haha. I wasn't aware she was on PicsArt! Just wow <3
Also mini celebration for this book reaching Chapter Ten and for climbing in the ranks of #253. Love you all. Thanks for reading! 

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Farah walked around the small store with a basket hanging on her arm. The list Martha gave her was between her fingers as she held it, studying the contents. 

Flour. Butter. Oil. Sugar. Orange juice.

It was a weird list to her. Most people write out lists of specific items they want, like bread, Raisin Bran, Oreos, ice cream, pizza; pre-made items. Basic items like this were foreign to her. Martha must make everything at home from scratch and Farah didn't understand how she did it. She had to've given in once or twice and bought a factory made meal. 

"What's on the list?" Clayton asked, looking over her shoulder.

Being close like this she noticed how tall he really was. He was a good six inches taller. Eight years ago they were about the same height and she hadn't grown an inch since. How time changes people, she thought. She eyed the list.

"Flour, butter, oil, sugar and orange juice," she read.

He nodded. "Follow me, I know where everything is."

She followed him. After they had everything Martha needed he turned to her and asked, "What did you need here?"

She flushed. "Umm.." How could she say feminine products without actually saying feminine products? The second she said something about it he was bound to know she was on her monthly. Awkward. "Maybe you could go check this out and I'll meet you in the truck?" Her voice was small.

"I'll just go with you, lead the way," he suggested. He wasn't going to leave her in here, knowing how the store owner could be with woman. Taking chances of letting her be subjected to his pervertedness was last on the list. 

"I'd prefer meeting you in the truck," she insisted.

He closed his eyes and replied in a low tone only she could hear, "I'm not leaving you alone in here with him. In case you haven't noticed, we're the only ones here."

"Who?" She was confused. She didn't know who he was talking about if they were the only ones in the store.

"Tell me what you need so we can just get it." Clayton's eyes sprang back open.

"Umm..." Farah covered her face. "Woman products."

"Woman products... as in?" 

"Tampons and pads," she hissed. God was this embarrassing.

Laughing, he pointed towards the aisle. "Just this way." He found her embarrassment cute.

"My ex, Morgan, she would always openly tell me to go buy those things for her. Every month like clockwork. And I would. She said the pain was too much for her to crawl out of bed." He shook his head. "I never did understand it."

Farah was appalled, but he kept talking.

"How can a woman bleed so much and still live? There was one time she–" She cut him off before he could finish the story.

"I really don't want to hear about your ex's menstrual habits. It's not classy." She cringed.

He chuckled. "And you know all about class?"

"Yes I do, I know for one thing you don't talk about other woman's menstrual patterns. It's a rule amongst couples. Together or not."

"Really? Let's not forget you met my brother in the male's restroom. Where's the class behind that?" He stopped in front of the pads and tampons.

She scoffed. "I was drunk. It was one of those lame office parties and I needed to use the restroom. I didn't know which one was which so I just went in one, I can hardly be blamed for that. I wouldn't have done it intentionally."

"I'm sure you can be held accountable, you were pouring the drinks down your own throat." He raised an eyebrow in amusement knowing she couldn't argue.

"How did you meet Morgan then?" She deflected.

Meeting her eyes head on, he said, "I was hitchhiking back home from Mexico. She found me, gave me a ride home. End of story." He smiled but it didn't reach his eyes and he turned away.

Gesturing to the rows of products next to him. "Tampons or pads?" She was so caught in defending her class she didn't realize they stopped. She snatched the first box of tampons she saw and stuffed them in the basket.

To take her mind off her embarrassment she questioned, "So what happened to you and her? Morgan I mean. You said she's your ex now?"

He gazed down the aisle and sighed before his eyes settled back to her. "I wasn't the man I should've been for her. She deserved someone better." He cast his eyes downward, gently retrieved the basket, and walked down the aisle, leaving her wondering how such a good hearted person at eighteen could've turned into a bad one. She didn't want to believe it. There had to have been a misunderstanding somewhere. She just wasn't sure she wanted to dip her hand in and find out what it was.