The "Tampon Incident" (from Finn's point-of-view)

NOTE: Although I include what would be considered "coarse" language in my books, I try to avoid outright swearing. That said, it's often difficult to accurately depict some of the characters without it.

In these alternate scenes from the point of view of characters who regularly swear, I've "bleeped" the words themselves, though since the first letter of each word is provided, it won't be difficult for readers to figure out what was said. My apologies if you find this jarring.  

The Tampon Incident (from Finn’s POV)

I was running late that morning. Dashed into the kitchen to wrestle with Mom’s stupid Italian coffee machine. Yanked the pot too hard and the hot contents sloshed as it came free. I swore and mopped the splatter off my jacket and the marble counter.
The sick-sweet smell of half-digested alcohol hit me two seconds before Dad shuffled in. I dropped the soaking dishrag into the sink and poured what was left of the coffee into my travel mug, gripping the handle hard.
Ignore me. Ignore me. Ignore me.
“Your hair looks like sh--.” Dad’s voice was hoarse, edged in too many cigarettes and that bottle of gin he thought I didn’t know he’d brought home yesterday.
Despite the chill – I hadn’t bothered turning on the heat last night – he stood on the tiles in bare feet, and nothing but his pajama bottoms. He had a hand on the island to stop himself swaying.
Thanks.” I started toward the door, but met his gaze. He blinked red, watery eyes.
“Yeah, that’s right, ignore your dad. Just keep walking you jumped up little–”
He was still drunk. I should have shrugged and kept moving. Ignored him.
“Shut your drunk mouth, Dad.” I knew the words were a mistake as soon as they were out.
I ducked easily under the fist he threw out to clip me. He made a weird grunting noise and dove at me. But I side-stepped. He slapped heavily to the tile floor, then rolled onto his side, face screwed up in pain, groaning.
For a second I considered helping him up. But then he opened his eyes and sneered.
“Go on then, you little f---. Get out of here. Don’t come back.”
“If only,” I muttered, turning my back on him.
The garage smelled like a brewery and felt like a fridge. I slammed the door as hard as I could.
For once, even the sight of the sleek, black sports car Dad bought me last time he got sober couldn’t make me smile. Usually, it only took a glance to remember the last girl to jump in, and I’d feel better. But today was dark. Mom hadn’t been home in over a week. It was the longest she’d stayed away.
Couldn’t blame her – he’d actually hit her this time. But if she really left, she was supposed to take me with her. The idea that I might be stuck with him, alone for the rest of the year, was chilling. Even thoughts of that girl in the car last night – what was her name? Haley, I think – hair down, blouse unbuttoned, flushed and reaching for me, couldn’t warm me.
I considered backing out of the garage through the door. But Dad would just take it out of my allowance. And my hide. So I squealed the tires instead and made sure I left rubber on his precious polished cement.
Pulled into the school parking lot about five minutes before the bell rang. Usually liked to get there earlier. It was an excuse to leave the house. But also, gave me time to separate from whatever bulls--- dad had put me through. Put it aside. Get it out of my head.
Today I wouldn’t get that chance. My stomach burned.
Not sure why I turned right instead of left when I got into the hall. Looking for Karyn, maybe? Don’t know. My head was still on Mom. But when I saw Stacy at her locker, it was like everything that was bugging me just pressed down. Hard.
It was always like that. Every time I saw her I felt pissed off.
We’d been friends for years when she started that stupid rumor – which still haunted me. Stupid b----. At the time I’d actually felt hurt.
Snort.
I shook my head as I stalked towards her locker. Why had I cared?
Gawd, when she was whining, I wanted to throttle her – the urge so strong at times, it scared me. Having her around was like a mosquito buzzing in my ear. Just wanted to slap her against a wall and be done.
She didn’t see me coming and the closer we got, the stronger I felt the urge to hit something. Wanted to smile because I knew she’d be dying over Mark and Karyn. But the grin wouldn’t come. So I sneered instead and gave her shoulder a little shove.
“Back off,” she snapped without turning around. Her shoulders hunched.
“Settle down, C.” She hated it when I called her that. It’s why I called her that.
When she turned, she tried to look mad. But I could see how scared she was and I was glad. That morning I needed something to vent on. She was perfect.
“I have class. What do you want?” she muttered, arms folded under a pair of delicious boobs that were wasted on her.
“You heard about Mark and Karyn?” I said. From the corner of my eye I could see people turning to watch us, starting to pay attention. Listening. I made sure the closest ones could hear me.
She nodded, the glimmer of tears starting.
I forced a smile. “Just making sure.”
I could feel the smile slipping, so I let it go and looked over her shoulder. That’s when I saw one of those ridiculous flowery boxes all the girls had and pretended they didn’t.
She rolled her eyes. “Grow up, Finn.”
“What, like you?” I met her eyes. Classic basketball maneuver – the defensive player always follows your eyes. “Congratulations on that, by the way.”
A flicker of confusion on her face. “On what?”
“On growing up.” She didn’t see my hand dart out until it was too late. Her eyes widened and she gasped, but I already had the box by the time she slammed her locker shut.
Shook it over my shoulder, felt the contents spill out, then threw it on the floor. “Give Stacy a hand everyone, she’s finally a woman now!”
Laughter and cheers went up from everyone in the hall, lifting the weight in my chest for a second. I took a step back and let my foot slide out from under me. “Whoops! She’s already used that one.”
The roar that followed chipped away at the weight in my chest. My smile came back on its own.
Stacy’s face crumpled. I opened my mouth to turn the knife, but I was too late. She’d already whirled and run for the door.
I accepted a couple claps on the back and grinned. But I found I couldn’t stop watching her carrot-colored hair bouncing down the hallway. The way her head was down, eyes on her feet.
An image flashed of my dad. Smiling. Proud.
Clenching my teeth, I forced my eyes off her just before she pounded through the door at the end of the hall. Gave Derek and another guy I didn’t know high fives. Then the bell rang and everyone dispersed.
The weight pressed heavy, then.
It was weird. Whenever I saw Stacy, this heat rose in my chest and I couldn’t walk away. I had to make her leave. But every time I did, and every time she ran… G--, I hated myself then. Because I knew I was just like him. She brought it out in me. And I could have killed her for it.
Not literally. At least, I didn’t think so.
Shaking off the thought, I turned to leave – and noticed Stacy hadn’t put the lock on her locker. Unable to resist, I gathered all the little tampon packets from the floor, and opened her locker to leave them for her in a nice pile.
But as soon as I got the door open, her wallet screamed at me from the shelf at the top.
Stupid. She’d left her wallet in an unlocked locker? Well, she was just asking for trouble. I’d take her cards so she didn’t have any way to pay for lunch. Give them to Karyn later, to give to Mark.
I wasn’t a thief. I didn't need her money. I just couldn’t resist messing with her.
Ignoring the flash of my father, laughing, I flipped up the leather flap on her wallet and opened it. A couple cards. Her student ID. And a piece of folded paper in the cash sleeve. With Mark written on it.
I took out the paper and put the wallet back on the shelf.
There was a moment before I unfolded the creased paper and read what it said, where I felt sorry for her. A moment when I would have pulled her aside and given it back and told her to be more careful with stuff like that.
But I shook it off. Then I started to read.
Holy. F-----. Christmas.

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