Ah, the weekly update!
Otose: Thanks, I've totally read your story too and I loved it, I've just been really bad and did not review it yet, which I will do so post haste. :)
Beagle Bug: Haha, our school had celeb day last week, too. I went as Lady Gaga, had that platinum wig and the shiny lightning bolt on my face and everything. It was fun.
IceDragonHikari: Trust me on this one, I feel no loyalty to ignorant people, particularly my US History, class, an AP class as well. My teacher almost passed out from shock. :O
Smartyjonescrzy: I was trying to establish the fact that Alex does not like Andrews, I would expect that she would be nonchalant about the whole 'Miss' thing by now…but then again...*shrugs* Alex is Alex. :D I read Calamity Jane, and I loved it. It was so…so…sweet. Your style of writing astounds me, Smarty, you must continue. :)
CarminaXBuranaX: Thank you! Normal is a good thing, it means that the characters are believable (like yours) and I can't wait for your next update, you never fail to impress! :)
Anonymous: Lol, Andrews is such a jerk, he reminds me of my cousin who thinks he's all that ever since he got accepted to Standford medical school. *Rolls eyes.* :D
BK Love-ah: Lol, Alex is just pissing everbody off to day, eh? :D Hahaha…
YarisVamp: Have you ever noticed htat almost all P.E. teachers are either gay or jerks? Or is it just me? ;p
Samantha Story: Get plenty of sleep, and drink a lot of fluids. Future doctor's orders. :D Thanks!
Dress4m: Thanks!
Jazmonsterr: Wow, almost everybody in my school is obsessed with two things. One: Charlie Sheen. Two: Chuck Norris. It's so crazy! Lol, people actually write reports about them. :D Ah yes, the battle of James Island and FT. Wagner are soon to happen *deep breaths* :)
EmpressofDalmasca: Thank you so much! Always nice to hear from new readers! :)
This morning I woke up screaming.
Literally.
Even though my scream was muffled by my scrawny excuse for a pillow, it was enough to make poor Forbes jerk violently up in his bunk next to mine. He stormed a loud curse and rolled over on his side, off the edge of the bed and on to the floor. He swore again, loud enough to stir most of the men with grumpy mutterings, and loud enough to wake Charlie up, whom was across from us on the other side of the room.
He blinked up at me from his position on the floor, and narrowed his eyes in serious scrutiny when he realized that I looked alright. "Alex, what the devil is the matter with you?"
Like I'm really going to tell you.
Now let me explain my not unusually strange behavior. I slept fitfully last night because my stomach kept hurting, and would wake me up several times an hour and force me to find a more comfortable position. A few minutes ago, was one of those times. I rolled over and frowned. It felt very uncomfortable in my pants, and a sticky, wet sensation-which is probably more information than you cared to know-made me sit up abruptly as I realized that Mother Nature had just honored me with another one of her unwanted visits.
And what followed after that, you already know. Forbes was still waiting for an answer. "Nothing." I snapped at him with panic and mild irritation. "Go back to sleep."
He stared at me blankly, then shrugged and turned his back to me.
This. Is. Not. Good.
This is so not fair. Not fair at all. Why did this have to happen? This is not fair, I tell you! I stared up at the ceiling, my blanket covering the bottom half of my body, folded underneath my arms. I clasped my hands together, please God don't let this be a monthly. I'd rather have peed myself than have that happen.
But unfortunately, it was my period. I could feel the cramping start already, numbing my thighs and brewing in the pit of my stomach. I was about to cry. I don't even half a change of…you get it. Besides, it's not exactly easy to perform the necessary feminine toiletries when you're sleeping with a bunch of men. Err…I could have worded that a little better, couldn't I?
Ow! It's seriously starting to hurt now. Now I'm going to start crying for real. Screw crying, I want to scream at the top of my lungs like a bloody banshee. I slapped a hand over my mouth in attempt to contain my tempting 'excitement.' I tried to be an optimist about, but I could not find anything to optimize, so I did the usual: at least this day can't get any worse.
It starts raining.
Today is not my day. Seriously, I thought this only happens in movies. Aargh! Permit me to scream, but I won't for I fear I'll wake somebody important up, like Robert, or worse…Mulcahy. I have to go outside in that rain too, because in the 1800's, people here actually put the bathrooms outside. What the hell? What happens in the winter when you have the stomach flu? Pneumonia.
I crawled from underneath my blanket, and stumbled out of bed, irritatingly unwrapping the poor excuse for a blanket that dared to wrap itself around my legs. I kicked it away. I grabbed that really cool Union jacket 'Susannah' gave me, and slipped my arms through the sleeves. It was thick and warm, but it did not make me want to go outside anymore than I wanted to go before.
Dragging a hand through my hot-mess hair, more like the mess without the hot, I pulled the blue Yankee hat over my eyes, trying to get the bill to shield my face from the rain. I was finally semi-prepared to step outside. The rain had me soaking wet in less than three minutes, of course it was only after I walked the half-mile to the darn restrooms, did I realize I had nothing to change into and needed to go back.
That's what I call ironic.
So I turned myself around and headed bloody back. I wanted to blame somebody for this, refusing to come to grips that I had nobody to lay this on but myself. Maybe I should blame Marty. After all, he was the one who started this whole civil war junk. Or maybe I should blame Forbes, he seems like an easy target. Or that damned Andrews. Or maybe Robert, just because I feel like it.
I groaned as I clutched my stomach. Go away pain! My body is such a traitor. Could it not wait until I was back in the future? Of course not. That would actually make sense. It is a proven, scientific phenomenon-law that everything that has to do with Alexandra Janeiro must not make sense. But seriously, it hurts so bad.
I leaned against a post, watching the rain fall. Mother Nature must have some grudge on me. It would be the cherry on top of my banana split if somebody came out and saw me right now. It would be almost as embarrassing as the time Andrews caught me doing 'Thriller' outside of the mess hall. I winced again, before pushing off of the wooden post that held the barrack building up, and stepped inside.
My eyes immediately landed on my bed. There was bright, conspicuous, small yellow duffel bag resting the ugly, light-blue bedding. The zippers gleamed in the silver light of the rain clouds, and I tried not to run to it for fear of waking any of the guys up with my loud, Jurassic Park footsteps. Nevertheless, I made haste, or whatever.
Soundlessly, I tackled the duffel bag, and ripped the zipper trail opened, wincing at the loud sound it made in the otherwise silent room. You can only imagine my relief when my eyes fell on the hygiene items inside. I let out a breath I did not know I was holding. Then again, it also made me blush; but it soon left, I'm not that modest. There was a fresh set of jeans, more underwear, a stick deodorant, chap stick, and Glory Hallelujah, 'feminine napkins.'
There was also a hasty, awkwardly written note.
Alex-
Jennifer picked it out, not me.
You're Welcome,
-M.M
How doth he get in and out of here?
No matter, I grabbed the duffel bag, and ran back out into the nasty, silver weather. I reached the door of the 'bathhouse' as the officers refer to it, personally I think the soldiers' more vulgar term 'the Crapper' fits it much better. I breathed through my mouth the entire time, needless to say, it smells like shit-aki mushrooms in here. I proceeded to do my thing.
Now ladies, most of us hate this time of month. Some of us, seriously, passionately, despise it. I'm no different. But sometimes, PMS can be a total ego booster. You become unstoppable. Brave men cower in the darkest corners, fearing to be found by you. Personally, I become superwoman. I get mad faster than a speeding bullet, I argue more powerfully than a locomotive, and I'm able to jump to nasty conclusions in a single bound. Now, that's all very nice to have during a time of said crises, but what I really need is some sympathy, so try to picture my situation.
You are the only female for miles around. You are from the future, where PMS is shrugged at, instead of here, where it is sneered and horrified at. You are surrounded by men. Rowdy, muscled males who drill every day all day. You are 'aide-de-camp' to a cute Civil War officer that is at least one-hundred and fifty years older than you, fought at Antietam, and killed somebody. Not to mention, he will more than likely notice that you are not up and about today, and come storming in demanding an explanation that you will refuse to give. Gee whiz, I can't wait to see what life throws at me next.
Once my toiletries were completed, I stepped back outside into the wet atmosphere, taking deep breaths of the fresh, rainy air, enjoying the smell of petrichor and finally being able to breathe through my nose again. It feels good to have me sense of smell back, no thanks to the so-called 'bathhouse.' I slipped back into the barracks, noticing that they gloomy, dark grey sky was beginning to brighten into a snowy platinum, which means that the hours of night are passing into early morning, and soon enough, it would be time to wake up and face the inevitable.
I groaned, and gingerly slid back into my bunk, curling up into a fetal position under the flimsy blanket.
Later that morning, Forbes stood to the side with Charlie, stirring his watery coffee with mild enthusiasm. It did not look, smell, or taste very appetizing, but he needed all the caffeine he could get. The officers had gathered for breakfast in their smaller, cleaner 'dining room' apart from the soldiers' mess hall. He looked over at Charlie, who chewed on the side of his hard tack with the type of facial expression that made him look like he was eating soap.
Both men were quiet that morning, having woken up less than ten minutes before. Forbes yawned and his eyes watered, his attempt to blink back his 'tears' was fruitless, and his vision irritatingly blurred. The whole officer's squad carried themselves with an alert posture, but inwardly, all would rather be back in their bunk beds, sleeping soundly on a rainy morning such as this one.
Speaking of sleeping, a certain 'Miss Janeiro' was still not up and about yet. It was no big surprise for him, Forbes shrugged it off, he would just have to go back and wake her like he did every morning, before Robert walked through the barracks and found her there. Forbes smirked in amusement, knowing it would be quiet funny if he 'forgot' to wake her one morning and let Robert find her. He chuckled at the thought, but like a good friend, was set to go wake her the minute he finished his tasteless coffee.
Too his uncontainable surprise, he did not have to. When he raised his eyes from the black depths of his coffee, he found himself staring at the open door of the officer's barracks. The small person standing in the middle of the door way-or leaning heavily on, would be a better description-gave Forbes a startling shock. Her dark brown hair turned black and stringy, clumped together from the heavy rain, a shocking contrast with her sickly pale skin, making her blue eyes look like twin bruises. She looked like death itself, clad in dark denim, the dark blue union coat and the navy union kepi. Alex took one slow, deliberate step in, and the door slammed shut behind her from the force of the early spring wind.
Some people really know how to make an entrance.
"Alex, you look terrible." Forbes observed when he had finally found his voice to speak.
She gave him a glare that made him stiffen. "Gee, Forbes, you sure know how to compliment a girl." She snarled, plopping down on the bench across from him, and dropping her head into her arms on the table.
Forbes noticed Charlie arch an eyebrow with polite concern. "Alex, are you all right?"
"Yeah." She squeaked pathetically from the hidden depths of her arms.
Both men could hear the outright lie in her voice.
Apparently, Charlie decided not to speak anymore, and neither did Forbes. He was still shocked at her not-so-bright and early admission this morning. He sighed loudly as he watched her dark mess of coils drip water on to the floor, spiraling down and meeting the stone floor with a plop! He turned away, bemused by her silence, and stirred his coffee. He stirred, and he stirred, and he stirred, finding nothing more productive to do with himself, until she broke the awkward silence.
"Screw it, Forbes! Would you stop stirring that drink or is this some kind of freaken' science experiment?" She barked, dropping her head down again. Trust Forbes, he stopped. Even Charlie looked scared.
A moment passed, and Forbes felt a bit wounded. That wasn't necessary. He shrugged it off, and stirred the coffee once more just for the fun of it. To his dismay, there was no reaction this time; so Forbes tried it again. No. Apparently his source of entertainment for this morning was broken now, and there was nothing left to do but go about the usual inspections of the camp. Not that he was in any hurry to do so; no one was ready to go out in that rain. But he cocked his head at Charlie, and he got the message.
Forbes made a show of rising, and made show of rising, slamming his coffee cup loudly but without attitude. It was only then that she raised her head to look at him. She did not look angry anymore, she looked sad and queasy, as if there was some major problem that she had and she was alone to face it. She stared at him sheepishly.
"I'm sorry." She whispered, and then dropped her head into her palms again, her legs drawn up to her stomach, and tears staining her face red.
Personally, Forbes would have rather had her scream at him again, rather than cry. He did not know what could possibly be the matter, and he strongly doubted that she was weeping for his forgiveness. He glanced at Charlie for support, for an answer, but at the moment, the man was as useless as he looked, gaping at her with an open mouth and dollar-sized eyes. Then Forbes blindly decided to take action.
He walked around the long, rectangular table, ignoring the perplexed stares of the subordinate officers, and signaled for Charlie to do the same. The two friends met in the middle, and a loaded, comprehending look passed them in a wordless plan, and they reached out to lift Alex off of the bench, one man per arm. She stared at them with a scowl, surprised and confused, as they dragged her outside. Once there, Forbes propped her up against a wall and stared at her.
She stared right back.
And somehow Forbes understood. He knew enough about women to understand what was going on here. He kept the symptoms in check, even though he was no Andrews. Pale, yes. Irritated, most definitely. Abdominal pain, well, he wasn't going to ask her that; but it was quiet obvious by the way she clutched her stomach, and Forbes pitied her, despite the fact that the tips of his ears were glowing a bright red.
He immediately changed the subject that they did not even begin to talk about, and he noticed her mouth a thank you as he turned away from her to face Charlie, who looked like he understood as well, and both men were swiftly at her side again, supporting her by the elbows, and leading her away from the cafeteria. Again, she was confused.
"Where are you taking me?" She asked, giving him no choice but to bring the subject back and talk about it.
"Back to the barracks, if anyone bothers you, tell them I ordered you to stay there." He looked at her and grinned. "You really do look terrible, and I'm sure you need all the rest we have to offer."
She leaned heavily against there arms as they all but dragged her through the rain. "Thanks guys."
Forbes smiled, pleased with himself. But Charlie was not smiling, he was wincing as the icy rain stung his face, and he pulled his hat lower over his eyes. "What's the matter, Charlie?" Forbes teased light-heartedly. "A brave man likes to feel the nature on his face."
That earned a jesting grin from Charlie. "And a wise man has enough sense to get out of the rain."
Forbes roared from laughter, that was an excellent comeback, and Charlie chuckled softly, and for the first time, Alex laughed as well.
I climbed into bed with a small smile, watching them exit the building and leave me alone in the entire barracks. Well, alone except for probably Robert, who's curtain-covered room was glowing a bright gold from the flickering firelight, like a beacon in this dark and rainy world. The boys told me to rest, and I figure they know about my 'condition' and told me to rest, promising to come back to check on me and bring food, later.
I love my friends.
With a yawn, I fell asleep.
The moment Robert stepped out of his room, rubbing his tired eyes from writing letters since early morning, he was shocked. Of course, everything seemed in place, the double rows of bunk beds were made and the blankets smoothed out without the tiniest of wrinkles. The rain pounded on the tin roof, and the gloomy-grey darkness of the day gave the entire barracks a sedate, tranquil atmosphere, but it was broken when Robert's eyes landed on Miss Janeiro's bunk, still occupied.
Robert was irritated, and more than a little peeved. He stormed to her side furiously, but leaving his anger out of his touch as he gently shook her awake. When her eyes finally opened, Robert noticed that she looked a little pale, and very tired, but the young colonel refused to give in, for this was the army, and things were to be taken toughly and seriously. She looked up at his angry expression and was near tears, which made him unwillingly soften up a bit.
"What the devil are you doing?" He demanded softly, still feeling very male and insensitive.
Her bottom lip wobbled and she looked like she would cry again, but she refused to wear her heart on her sleeve, and instead swallowed it, raising her chin in defiance. "With all due respect, Sir, none of your business."
Robert furrowed his brow. "I'm very tempted to use my rank against you, Miss Janeiro."
She snorted. "Go ahead, it won't help you, not one bit."
Robert closed his eyes and counted to ten, trying to calm his taut nerves. Everyone was irate today. "Madam, as your commanding officer, I demand that answer this: Why are you not doing your duties at this hour, long after the wakeup call?"
She sat up in bed, pushing off and then standing completely on the ground. "I told you, it's none-" Suddenly, something not-so-odd happened, for Robert was used to women swooning and fainting, which proved again that Miss Janeiro was feminine. She clutched at her forehead, than her knees grew wobbly, and her eyes rolled in her head. They closed, and she collapsed.
Robert had reflexes, and good ones. He reached out and snatched her up by the waist, seconds before her head hit the ground. He felt guilty and worried. Was it something he did? Why was she so pale? Robert lay her down gently on the bunk, leaving her for a moment as he sprinted off in the direction of his quarters, reaching in to grab his cloak off of the stand, and dashing back to her side. He covered the length of her with it, and picked her up again.
Together, the conscious one of the two stepped out of the barracks and into the rain, hardly noticing the fact that he was coatless himself, and his white shirt was clinging to his dark-blue vest and arms in a matter of seconds. His soft, volumized brown hair, where it was not protected by his kepi, was smoothed by the pouring water from the skies. The raindrops bounced off of the shiny black bill of his hat and slid down his neck, and down his collar.
His destination was Andrews' medical quarters, though it probably would have been a smarter idea to just bring him to the barracks.
I opened my eyes, and waited for my blurry vision to unfog and adjust back to the normal clear view. I remembered arguing with Robert, refusing to tell him of my dilemma, for I was embarrassed, and the way he looked at me made me feel so low and dirty that he provoked me to treat him like dirt too. Or maybe it was a dream? It was very strange for me to pass out, I've never done that before, but perhaps it was low blood pressure, I'm not sure what.
I can vaguely hear voices, give me a minute.
"Symptoms suggest that Miss Janeiro is suffering from a feminine cycle that will pass in a few days…" Blah blah blah. My face is heating up, and I could recognize Andrews' nasal James-Norrington voice anywhere.
I turn my head soundlessly, and notice that I am wrapped from head to toe in a thick, dark grey woolen blanket. It's scratchy but it's very warm, and there is a warm, old fashioned heating pad filled willed to the brim with hot water, resting against my stomach. I moved it down to my lower abdomen, and curled up in a ball, trying to stay awake to see who he was talking to.
Of course, it had to be Robert. Who else could it be? His brow is furrowed, and he is rocking anxiously back and forth on his heels. He opens his mouth and says something. Andrews' replies. "Yes, she should come to any minute now." Did he really just fall for my pathetic excuse for acting?
Yes he did.
Robert nodded, as I continued to watch them through my eyelashes. I can hear his soft voice now. "Let her rest then, she deserves it."
I'm touched to the core, I would say more, but it hurts to even think.
I close my eyes sharply, completely, as I hear his booted footsteps thunk on the wooden floor as he crosses the room. I can feel his presence by my bedside. I feel him watching me, and I can hear his slow breathing and smell the leathery, masculine scent of his clothes. I feel the blanket move, he's touching it. He drags it up, covering me more, stopping when it was under my chin. His hand accidently brushes against my skin, and his touch feels like somebody dragged an ice cube across my face on a hot summer's day.
Then I hear his footsteps retreat as he walked away.
All day, people keep walking into the barracks, much to Andrews's dismay, to check up on me. Soldiers and officers, both black and white, stop by to ask me if I'm alright. It's so sweet, I'm so touched that I feel like crying 'happy tears.' The white guys were no surprise, it was really shocking when Thomas stopped by, Jupiter, both of Trips' goons, Rawlins, and Trip himself! I was so shocked I could only stare at them.
Even guys that I didn't know, including one that looks so much like Will Smith it's crazy, dropped in to say hello, until Andrews, the killjoy, ordered them out.
Each and every one of them called me 'Rio.' Except for Rawlins and Thomas.
I was confused. Why 'Rio?' Why are they calling me Rio? Is that not strange? It was only when Trip came by did I have a chance to find out. "Trip, why is everybody calling me Rio?"
He grinned in that malicious, cocky way that made most people want to wipe it off his face with their fist. "That's yo name, now, Girl!" Was all he said.
Then, I got it, I totally understood it and I could not stop grinning. The men gave out nicknames only to those who were accepted. I was accepted in to their little (seven-hundred people) circle of dudes. I was no longer 'that White Girl' anymore. I was Rio. Ever since Trip said sorry (heck, even Darth Vader had his moments) he kept his promise not to bug me anymore, and even made me a comrade. I realize I must sound like a squealing fan girl, but this is too cool! It really brightened up my day.
Rio.
It has a nice ring to it, eh? Sadly, it took me a few hours to realize that by 'Rio' they are referring to my last name, and the beautiful city of Rio de Janeiro.
Pretty cool, huh?
Sorry about the choppy-ness to that. I was trying to write something BAM! But I am so sleep deprived it's not even funny anymore. :)
BTW, to those of you who aren't avid BTTF freaks like me, Jennifer is Marty's girlfriend in the movie.
Review please, and those of you with Glory stories, update, por favor.