Skylie

C H A P T E R || 9

♕ CHAPTER NINE ♕

↦ SKYLAR'S P.O.V ↤

*Recap

"Do you have a pad!" he suddenly blurted out.

Uh... wait. Did the guy that just came into the girls' bathroom, that for some hormonal reason I find is extremely hot... just asked for a pad?

~

I stared at him before blinking rapidly.

"D-did you just ask for a pad?" I asked, incredulously.

"Yes. Are you slow? Do. you. have. a. pad." he asked again.

"Uh, why do you need a pad?" I asked again, still blinking rapidly.

"One- stop blinking. Is there something in your eyes? Two-Sherlock, I'm bleeding. And three- A pad will absorb the blood and stop the bleeding." he said, with an agitated sigh.

"I-I dont have a pad." I said, letting the information sink in.

I glanced at him and saw his white shirt soaked with blood at the right side.

"What kind of girl are you? Gosh, I need a pad or something now." he said, agravatted.

"W-why dont you go to the nurse or s-something." I said, hating how my voice was coming out rather shaky.

"If I wanted the bloody nurse I would have gone to the medical office. I dont want a nurse and it's not a big deal." he said.

I now noticed he had a very, very slight but noticable, British accent. I eyed his shirt.

"It look like something big." I said, scratching my cheek awkwardly.

"Look are you going to help me or not?" he said, looking at me pleadingly.

I looked at him and nearly melted when I saw his eyes. They were milky brown with light honey brown flecks in them.

I sighed when I looked at his partly, bloody shirt. I needed to help him.

"I dont have a pad but I know there will be emergency pads in a girl bathroom." I said.

My eyes locked on a medical box installed into the wall. It had a lock on it, though. Nonetheless, I walked over and tried twisting it to get it off.

I sighed defeatedly.

"Move out the way." he suddenly said, walking over.

Stepping aside, I let him inspect the box. I dont know what he could do, though. It was padlocked.

Suddenly, in a quick movement, he wrenched the padlock off.

The door to the medical box, swung open revealing a bottle of rubbing alcohol, cotton balls and more first aid equipment.

I searched quickly for pads or plasters. I noticed they didn't have plasters or a bandage in there though.

Ooh, Bingo!

There was a zip-lock bag with three pads in it.

I walked back over to the boy, who was now leaning against the sink.

"Good. Thank God they were pads in there." he said, with a relieved sigh.

He suddenly grabbed the bag from me and hastily opened it and took out a pad, unwrapped in and them lifted his t-shirt to reveal a gash.

I gasped.

He hastily pressed the pad on it.

'Did he really expect the bleeding to stop like that?' I asked myself.