“Hi, Mum.”
“Are you settling in okay?” she asked – no hello as usual.
“Yes thanks. I think I’m-”
“And how’s Rachel?” she interrupted, cutting me off – again as usual. “Are you taking care of her?”
“Rachel doesn’t need taking care of, Mum. She’s-”
“Oh, Emily, stop being so self-centred!” See what I mean about the interrupting? Sometimes I honestly can’t work out why she bothers to talk to me at all. She clearly isn’t interested in anything I’ve got to say. “Of course she needs taking care of. She’s disabled!” She sounded utterly disgusted with me. Again, that wasn’t out of the ordinary.
“Well I need to go now. I’m swamped with charity admin today. You’re father wanted to know how you were so I’ll pass on that you’re fine.” My ‘father’ wanted to know how I was doing – not her. Not the only woman in the world who’s supposed to love and worry about you until the day they draw their last breath. Most of the time I rolled my eyes and silently laughed off how little I actually meant to her. But some days – days like today, when I’m feeling both overwhelmed yet proud of myself with this life I was creating – it cut a little deep.
It’s those days, where just hearing her voice makes the back of my eyes sting and my bottom lip wobble.
“Okay. Bye, Mum.”
I doubt you’ll be surprised to hear she hung up before I’d even muttered that goodbye – let alone offer her own. Blinking away the tears before they had chance to fall I straightened myself up and shook myself off defiantly, refusing to think about the ache in my chest for another second. Then I went back to weighing up my outfits in preparation to meet with Jared.
If I’m honest, things are growing a little stale with him. I can’t work out why it’s not working. In theory I should be head over heels for him. He’s cute, he’s thoughtful and he can keep me laughing so long I get face-ache but… something’s missing. I guess I’m just not experienced enough to know what it is yet. Rachel thinks I should bin him off and start again but that seems a little cruel to me – he’s done nothing wrong as such. Instead, I’ve decided to give it another week and if I still feel the same, maybe suggest we just be friends. Can a guy and a girl be just friends? Or am I being naïve?
I can also tell he’s getting impatient in the S word department. He’s not said as much but his hands keep wandering that little bit further whenever we’re making out and quite frankly it’s getting embarrassing having to keep batting them away. It’s just not doing anything for me – just like it never did with Rhys. I mean I wasn’t expecting fireworks or little birds to start singing in my ears or anything but I assumed when a guy was panting and shirtless as he kissed me, I’d feel something stirring inside me. But to be honest I can’t seem to stop myself wanting to whip out my Kindle and get back to Dean Holder.
Maybe my vajayjay is broken.
After settling on the jumper dress, I was just putting the finishing touches to my makeup (which I’ve become rather good at lately) when Rachel appeared in the doorway.
“Right, Emily…” Uh oh. She means business. “I’ve been looking through this list and you’ve yet to achieve one fucking thing on it. I’m not happy, Ho,” she scolded, waving the laminated New Life list in the air.
“Um… sorry?” What else could I say?
“I don’t need sorry I need you to put some effort in. Starting tonight.”
Double uh oh…
“K so you’re going out with Jared again which offers the opportunity to cross off a heap of things on this list. Now you’ve got the option of either getting wasted, having sex numerous times with him, or my personal favourite… Number 24 – painting a guy’s toenails.” Rachel winked at me and I remembered the playful argument we had when she listed Number 24. How was getting a guy to let me do girly things to him going to change my life? In the same way Number 30 and 42 were I suppose.
· Eat a raw potato
· Drink cider on all fours from a doggy bowl
The more I think about it, the more certain I am Rachel has some wires loose in her brain.
“I’ll try,” was all I could say. I knew this was all fun and Rachel would never expect me to do anything I wasn’t comfortable with but I really did want to have a bash at the list. Though unbeknownst to Rachel I was planning to start with something relatively easy – like Number 12:
· Eat Chinese food until you’re so full you throw up
Seriously, where did she get these ideas from?
“I’m gonna get going now. You need anything before I go?”
“Jared’s cock if you’re not gonna use it.”
“There’s something wrong with you, you know that right?” I teased, rolling my eyes.
“Nah, Ho. I’m just special, remember?”
“Be good,” I ordered playfully as I bent down to kiss the top of her head.
“Never.”
**********
“Hey, cutie,” Jared greeted when I approached his door after being buzzed in. “I’ve missed you,” he added before cupping my cheeks and landing a long, squelching kiss on my lips.
“Missed you too.” It was only a white lie. I had sort of missed him – just like I’d miss any of my friends if I hadn’t seen them for two days.
“I was thinking we could just stay home tonight. Rent a couple of movies, order Chinese…” Oh the irony. Number 12 was my first goal yet there was no way I was going to try and accomplish it in anyone’s company other than Rachel’s. I wasn’t sure Jared or his sheepskin rug would appreciate it.
“Sounds good to me,” I agreed before brushing past him and heading towards his couch. “Will Dex be joining us?” I kind of hoped not. I’ve been sitting next to him in class everyday for two whole weeks and I still know nothing about him. If I’m honest, he’s starting to creep me out a little.
“Doubt he’ll be home till the early hours. He’s covering my shift so I can spend more time with you.” Jared flashed me an affectionate smile as he joined me on the couch and pulled me closer to him. I should’ve melted there right? He’d just said something adorable but for the effect it had on my insides he might as well have been talking about the weather.
Jared was the perfect gentleman. He twirled my hair around his fingers while I rested my head on his lap, he whispered sweet things to me every five seconds and he even rented the entire Twilight Saga for us to watch. I couldn’t shift the niggling suspicion that it was all part of his master plan to get into my knickers however. This inkling was only intensified when he started kissing me half way through Eclipse and in that moment I decided it was time to give it my best shot. Maybe I wasn’t ‘feeling’ it because I didn’t know what I was missing. If I gave it a chance, he might turn my whole world upside down.
Right?
Wrong.
I should’ve known it wasn’t going to work the second I started chanting the mantra ‘you can do this’ over and over in my head. My heart raced faster and faster the higher his hand slipped up my thigh, but not in an excited way – in a ‘dear God I think I’m gonna pass out’ kind of way. Then, by the time his fingers began to trace the lacy edge of my knickers I think I actually started shaking.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered, pulling away from him. “Can we just, um… slow things down a little?”
“Sure,” he replied with a smile that didn’t reach his cheeks. I’m sure I heard him sigh too.
“Sorry,” I repeated.
“Don’t be,” he assured… weakly. “How ‘bout I get us something to drink? I’ve got Jack in the kitchen.” Hmm. There were two reasons here why I should’ve said no. Number one: This could’ve been phase two of Operation Remove The Knickers. And number two: I’d never drank such a hard liquor before which probably meant this wouldn’t end well.
Yep. I needed to pass this time.
“Sure.” It seemed my mouth didn’t agree with my brain on this occasion. But what harm could it really do? If I took it easy – just a g
lass or two – I’d surely be able to keep it down and I might even get to cross off Number 1 on the New Life list.
When Jared disappeared into the kitchen I reminded myself that I was an adult now. I needed to stop obsessing over such trivial dilemmas. I was having a couple of drinks for God’s sake! I was going to be totally fine.
**********
“I don’t feel too good,” I slurred, hoping the room would stop spinning so I could find Jared. “Jared? I need your bathroom.” For some reason I couldn’t remember where a single thing was in this apartment, and I was almost certain I wouldn’t be able to hold myself upright long enough to find it on my own. “Jared!” I snapped, growing impatient and increasingly bilious.
It was then I made out a hazy looking heap draped over the armchair. Great. Jared was out for the count. I was sweating, trembling, about to spew up a lifetime’s worth of food and I was all on my own. Left with no other choice than to try and find the toilet alone I stood up warily, hovering my left foot above the ground as I prepared to take my first step.
Hold up, why was the ugly as sin sheepskin rug coming towards me? Oh wait… it wasn’t anymore. What was I leaning on? Had I started walking or sat back down?
“Whoa there, doll. I’ve got you.” Have you?
“Jared?” Why did he sound so funny?
“No, it’s me. Dex.” The enticing smell of his aftershave assaulted my senses before I actually saw him. Yay. Someone else to witness me making a complete tit of myself. Whoop whoop! “Put your arm around me. I’m gonna sit you back down.” I sensed what felt like arms gripping me around my waist. That wasn’t a good move…
“I’m going to be sick.” It was coming I could feel it. And of course once you start thinking about it the urge to actually do it only becomes stronger. It gets to a point where the bottom of a toilet pan is all you can think about and then your stomach finally gives in and erupts against your will.
I was so at that point.
“Hold on, doll.” Doll… He’d never called me that before tonight. I liked it. It was kind of cute.
At first I didn’t know if I’d collapsed or been picked up – all I knew was that my feet were no longer touching the floor. But then I was moving – fast. Dexter was carrying me – cradling me in his arms like an infant while I hung on for dear life with my arms around his neck.
He lowered me down cautiously in front of the toilet and I was hurling my guts up before I’d even had a chance to bend over it fully.
“That’s it. Let it all out,” Dexter soothed, teasing the hair from the side of my face and holding it in place at the back of my head while I retched repeatedly until my throat began to burn. I’m sure if I hadn’t been too busy feeling like I was dying, I would’ve been embarrassed.
We must have stayed in that position for almost half-an-hour – although it felt like a hell of a lot longer. When I eventually felt sturdy enough to move without falling, Dexter lowered the toilet lid for me and held my arm whilst I lowered myself down onto it. Instinctively I shrank back a notch when I felt something cold and wet brush my forehead, until I realised it was the soothing sensation of a wet flannel and it was without a doubt the most heavenly thing I’d ever experienced.
“Helping?” Dexter asked gently as he smoothed the reviving flannel back and forth across my clammy skin.
“Uh huh,” was all I could summon. My brain was still too foggy to form coherent words.
“You ready to stand?”
No.
“I’ll try.”
“K, doll. Take my hand.” Dexter held his hand out and supported my weight as I pulled myself into a standing position. Whoa. I stumbled and grabbed onto him tighter, digging my nails into the firm flesh coating his forearms. “You okay?” he asked, his words coming out in a rush as if he were genuinely concerned.
“Head rush, that’s all,” I replied, releasing my grasp a little.
Dexter led me to the couch where he slept and didn’t let go of me until I was sat firmly down. The first thing I noticed was that Jared was missing from the armchair.
“Where’d he go?” I asked, confused and disorientated. Maybe I’d been so drunk I only imagined seeing him there earlier. If that was the case, how could he leave me in the state I was in?
“I’ll go check while I fix you some coffee.” I was about to tell him he didn’t need to go to any trouble but by the time my mouth was prepared to co-operate with my brain, he’d already left the room.
I had never felt so awful in all my life. The twinges of a migraine were beginning to taunt me - I felt sick, sweaty, dizzy… Why the hell did Rachel think this was a good idea? I think I might genuinely hate her right now.
Closing my blurry eyes I relaxed to the sound of the Breaking Dawn Part One credits playing softly in the background. It felt homely – comforting. It was a sound I’d heard a thousand times and with my eyes closed I could’ve been lying in bed next to Rachel enjoying one of our ‘Twinights’ rather than making a holy drunken show of myself in front of a guy I barely knew.
“He’s took his sorry ass off to bed,” Dexter informed, handing me a tall mug of steaming black coffee when he re-entered the room. “When you’ve finished that I’ll fetch you a water.”
“Really, you don’t need-”
“Do you want to feel like shit all night?” he interrupted, sounding annoyed.
“No,” I answered sulkily.
“Then just do it. The more you drink the faster you’ll start to feel better.”
Assuming he was probably more experienced than me in the hangover department, I followed his advice. The coffee was too hot to drink all at once so I took slow, careful sips while I waited for it to cool down.
“So how come you’ve got a voice all of a sudden?” I asked boldly. Wow, I really was intoxicated. I’d wanted but never dared to ask him why he was such a miserable pig since the first time I met him.
“How’d you mean? I talk to you,” he said somewhat defensively, ruffling his purposely-shaggy brown hair with his fingers.
“Barely. I don’t know anything about you.” Hmm, maybe feeling like a sack of horse crap was worth it for the confidence it seemed to be giving me.
“There’s nothing you’d want to know, doll.” The dizziness was finally subsiding only to come crashing back down on me again every time he called me ‘doll’. My body appeared to like it more than my brain thought I should.
“How do you know if you don’t try me? You don’t know me either so you don’t know what I would and wouldn’t want to know. And I think I do want to know. Unless you just don’t want me to know. What is it I don’t know again?” I rambled, unavoidable tiredness setting in and making me forget what we were even talking about.
“I think you need to sleep now,” he suggested before bending behind the couch. He re-emerged with two fluffy pillows and a folded up duvet. Then he laid them out onto the cushions and made an awfully inviting looking bed. “Lie down. I’ll go get that water and leave it right here,” he added, pointing to a small side table next to the couch.
“But where will you sleep?” I asked, feeling guilty about stealing his bed but not enough to stop me lying straight down.
“Don’t worry about me, doll. Just close your eyes and sleep it off.”
The last thing I remember was smiling gratefully – my eyes already closed.
************
Oh. God.
I was awake but I daren’t open my eyes. I knew if I did I might have to chance making eye-contact with another human being and then I would die from sheer shame. Then again I think I was dying anyway. I felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach, dipped into a bucket of steaming vomit and then shoved under a speeding bus. Yep, I was definitely dying.
Ugh.
After just a few minutes of refusing to move I was soon left with no choice – I needed a wee. Still with my eyes closed I sat up tentatively, purposely trying not to rock my extremely precarious stomach. Oh sweet Jesus, the pain in my head almost k
nocked me straight back down. It was official – I am never drinking again. Ever.
Right, time to open my eyes. I can do this. The light literally burned my retinas the second I peeled back my eyelids. I blink several times in an attempt to stop the stinging and then rose slowly to my feet, holding on to the back of the plush couch for support.
When I reached the bathroom I made the grave mistake of catching my reflection in the mirrored cabinet. My hair was a tangled mess – all that was missing was some twigs and bits of straw. The dark purple circles framing my eyes were so prominent it looked like I’d been punched in the face and I had smudges of mascara trailing half way down my cheeks. And I stank. Badly. Stale alcohol mixed with sweat and sick was enough to make me want to retch again.
Wow. Sexy.
I got the necessities out the way first by having my wee and brushing my teeth with one of the two toothbrushes propped up on the side of the sink. I hoped it was Jared’s, otherwise it would be weird. Then I stripped off and hung my clothes over the back of the bathroom door while I sprayed them down with some spicy smelling men’s body spray I found in the cabinet before hopping in the shower.
Hot water had never felt so good. I felt like I had been marinating in a bath of grime for a month and I could literally feel the steaming stream melt it from my body. I lathered myself up three times in a row before washing my hair the same number of times. By the time I stepped out onto the slatted slip-board I felt almost human again.
After raking a tiny men’s comb through my hair and dressing quickly in last night’s clothes I headed back to the living room to gather my things. Sitting on the couch I noticed a glass of water and a box of aspirin resting on the side-table. My first thought was that Jared must be up. My second thought was how sweet that was of him. My third thought was…
Dexter.
The previous night came crashing down on me like sixty tonnes of house bricks. Jared didn’t get me the water. Dexter did. Jared didn’t carry me to the bathroom because I was too drunk to stand up straight. Dexter did. Jared didn’t hold my hair back while I spewed my guts up all over the bathroom. Dexter did.
Take My Hand Page 5