“You look lost.”
I practically jump out of my skin as a tall, dark figure approaches me from the shadows.
“Oh fuck. Not again.” I silently scream to myself. Please no. Not here, not now when it’s pitch black and I’ve got absolutely no idea where I’m going.
On instinct, I automatically grab my keys out of my bag for protection. Apparently, it’s well known that anything can be used as a weapon if you use your mind. I’m sure that’s what The Karate Kid taught us, or maybe that’s just what I got from it. I’ve never really had to put that theory to the test until now.
If this guy even tries the slightest move then I’m going to take everything that I’ve got, which granted might not be much and gut the prick like a fish.
I stand motionless waiting for him to come closer, but he doesn’t, he just stands where he is as if he’s been waiting for me. For what though I’m not sure. It’s like some crazy scene out of Wild ,Wild West, yet this standoff doesn’t really have the same feel to it as we’re stood in the middle of the street, in the freezing cold minus any guns and we’re in London.
“What do you want?” I ask, my mouth running way ahead of my brain once again. Why do I do it? Why do I always have to open my stupid bloody trap? Well done Emily, you’ve just invited this potential weirdo, psycho, lady-killing stranger to enter conversation you muppet. Give yourself another corking pat on the back, you silly cow.
Strangely he still doesn’t say anything and I can’t work out his reaction because it’s that dark, I can’t bloody see him. He’s silhouetted right into the darkness. A little bit like a Dementor. To be fair, if it was a Dementor I’m pretty sure I’d be safe because there’s not really that much happiness left in my broken, damaged black soul these days.
I look up again and see movement. Oh good, now he’s coming closer and I’m that cold I can’t bloody move. Maybe I should have put up more of a fight with Rachel. At least that way I would have been at home, tucked up nice and safe right now, instead of walking into the path of death once again.
“Emily, are you okay? It’s me.” The voice calls out again, only this time I recognise it.
“Noah?” I ask disbelievingly.
“Who else would it be? Are you sure you’re okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“No, no. I’m fine, you just gave me a little bit of a shock, that’s all.” I didn’t know it was you.”
He steps closer and this time I can see him. Really see him, in all his beautiful glory. It must be the light that’s caught him at just the right angle because he looks like he’s got a halo beaming out of his huge mass of beautiful blonde hair. Thoroughly angelic. “Come on. You look like you’re gonna catch your death. You must be freezing. Let’s get you inside where it’s warm.”
What would you know? I don’t bloody believe it. The restaurant is right across from where I was stood. Maybe it’s about time that I admitted defeat, and my age and finally booked in for that dreaded eye test that I’ve been putting off for only God knows how long.
Noah’s ever the Gentleman, holding the doors, taking my coat and pulling my chair out for me. It’s all very swoon-worthy really and I’m just not used to it at all. Now don’t get me wrong, it’s all very nice and all but I really don’t know how to act. I’ll be honest here and admit that I kind of feel a little awkward and that’s the last thing that I want to be feeling right now. Maybe Noah’s wasting his time on a little old commoner like me. Bloody hell, I’m definitely no lady and this guy clearly deserves one.
“You look beautiful.” He smiles over at me once he’s taken his seat and I can feel the heat rushing to my cheeks. Crikey, he even compliments too Fortunately, there’s a dim glow so I might just get away with it, if not I can always pretend I went a bit over the top with my new NARS Orgasm blush.
“You don’t look too bad yourself.” I lie. Oh, bloody hell I’m lying all right. He looks gorgeous. He’s that hot, I have no doubt in my mind that I could cook my steak on just his flesh alone. I wonder if that’s something that he’s willing to try? Maybe it’s too soon…
He must find my embarrassment highly amusing as he chuckles softly while his sultry eyes never leave mine. I don’t even think he blinks. My theory is confirmed… he must be a mythical creature. I just knew it.
“What?” I finally ask, curiosity getting the better of me.
“Nothing.” He replies quietly and his hand moves to fill his glass with water, yet he never once looks away from me. Dear God, please don’t let this one have some weird random fetish too. I hope I haven’t still got the remains of toothpaste around my mush. That’d be attractive, wouldn’t it?
I’m getting a little uneasy about the way he’s staring at me though. I feel well and truly exposed, like he’s got some magical power and he’s doing nothing but undressing me with those sinful eyes of his.
The restaurant is super fancy and the staff are very friendly and welcoming. As I look around, they’d definitely get a five-star rating from me if I was one of those secret shoppers. They look so happy and eager to assist at any given opportunity. They don’t seem to be those annoying types just yet. You know the ones, those pesky ones who keeping waltzing over to check everything’s okay every five bloody minutes. I hate that. Hate it with a passion and most of the time they start before the food has even arrived. How about asking me once I’ve taken a bite, pal?
I like to people watch and Noah looks very relaxed and content. Actually, he seems a little bit too happy and relaxed. To top it off, the staff seem to know him on what looks like a rather personal level too.
“So, do you come here often?” I blurt out before I can stop myself. Jeez, this little problem’s becoming quite the habit. I’m really curious to know how he came to know these people though. Not that it’s any of my business, but I’m a very inquisitive person. I don’t think I came across as inquisitive though. No, stupid old me ended up sounding like I was asking the most cheesiest chat-up line of them all.
“Occasionally.” Noah smiles while offering me a glass of wine which I dutifully accept, nodding like a wild, sexually deprived loon. He doesn’t bother commenting on my weirdness, however. I’m guessing that he’s just being polite and there’ll be no call back from him for a third date. “I love the food and the atmosphere.” He continues as if he can read my mind.
He’s not lying. I’ve yet to try the food, but the atmosphere is definitely rocking. It’s quite contagious really.
In all fairness, it’s been a hell of a long while since I’ve been taken out to a restaurant with live music. Actually, it’s been a hell of a long time since I’ve been taken out to a restaurant, full stop. I wonder if most women get treated like this and I was just with a knob for far too long?
“Thanks again for my phone. Really, you shouldn’t have.” I say, trying my best to change the subject. So what if this is where he brings his dates. Probably a huge fucking queue of dates, but that was all before me. Everyone has a history, some more colourful than others. At the end of the day it’s little old me that he’s decided to take out tonight, not them. God only knows why, though.
“If I didn’t, I don’t think that you’d be sat here now, do you?”
Excuse me? Does he think I’m some kind of gold-digger or something? He must notice my expression change as he quickly adds, “it was my way of ensuring that I’d see you again.” Oh… “That’s why I left my number in the phone. That way it was entirely up to you if you deleted it or decided to take it further. Luckily for me, here you are.
“Oh shit. Holy mother of Jesus.” I cry out, disbelief and agony rippling through my entire body and morphing into one. I don’t bloody believe this. I only planned to nip to the little ladies room for a quick pee and to powder my nose and now I wish that I hadn’t have even bothered.
What the hell am I supposed to do now? I can’t go out there like this. For God sake, I wont even be able to walk unless I go commando. Then Noah will think I’m gagging for it and I�
��m an easy lay. Yes, I’m human and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a teeny, tiny feeling in my knickers, or at least I did before this horrific pain kicked in. Now that feeling has gone and has been replaced by a pure, intense inferno.
“Have a wax.” Rachel said.
“Go on, you may as well.” She said.
“Sex is a hell of a lot more intense with the wig ripped off.” She said.
I bloody knew that I shouldn’t have listened to her. Always follow your gut Emily. That’s what my Mum always said. But did I? Did I bloody buggeries.
Now, because of my own stupid and indecisive recklessness, even knowing how sensitive my skin is, because I stupidly went against my gut instinct and gave into peer pressure and had the thing whipped off; now I’ve got what feels like horrific and agonising third degree burns all over my poor Vajayjay.
That definitely throws the sex right out the window. Not that there would have been any, anyway, but what with my unpredictable behaviour at the minute, it’s really hard to say for certain. My nymphomaniac side could erupt at any moment.
My God, it’s angry looking. All red, inflamed and full of what looks like blisters. Anyone would think that I’ve contracted herpes or something similar.
My heart stops… Shit.
Matt… Matt’s the only person that I’ve slept with in over a year. That’s twelve whole months and now I’m breaking out with something unpleasant. What if Matt’s given me genital fucking herpes? You can’t get rid of the bastards once you’ve caught them. I know that much. They just keep coming back for more and more.
After I’ve finally pulled my knickers back up, I try to slowly move my right leg in front of the other but it hurts too much. The pain is unbearable. Sweet Jesus, child birth is probably an absolute breeze compared to this throbbing festation. I try again and give up just as fast. I’m really left with no other choice here. I’m going to have to go commando and quickly come up with the mother of all excuses to get out of here and get home as quickly as possible.
Digging deep in my bag for what feels like the tenth time tonight, I pull out my phone and quickly type out ‘S.O.S. URGENT, I repeat, URGENT S.O.S.’ and send it to Rachel. All I can do now is hope and pray that she’s still awake and hasn’t fallen into a Prosecco and chocolate induced coma. If she has then I’m well and truly up shit street.
It must easily take a good fifteen minutes to finally emerge from the ladies and with each step that I take my eyes are watering more and more with the pain. As for silver linings, at least this mascara has stood the test of time and lived up to its waterproof claims. It bloody should do for the price too.
“Are you okay?” Noah asks as I slowly ease myself down into my chair, praying that he can’t tell that there’s something wrong. Something majorly wrong. Why does nothing ever go right for me? Why does there always have to be some drama along the way? “You had me worried for a while there. I thought you’d called for back-up and fled the scene.”
“If only you knew what was really happening.” I think, but instead say, “no, no. Just topping up the face.” I hate lying and I can’t believe I’m lying to him already, but does he really need to know about my horrific fanny rash? I never even made it to the make-up part and now I’m quickly blistering away as I not so patiently wait for my back-up to hurry up and bloody help me out of this pickle that I’m in, once again thanks to her.
I look back up at Noah and smile as hard as I can. I don’t want him to know that something’s wrong, but at the same time I also don’t want to look to eager either.
Well this is a flaming bag of shit isn’t it? Dating and me really don’t go hand in hand. First my phone, ultimate love of my life breaks and now I’m sat here practically starkers and my foof looks riddled. I really hope that it isn’t. I must be a really terrible person. I go off the rails once and this is what happens. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I’m turning out to be the type of girl that Mum’s all over the world warn their sons about.
I feel like crying, but I can’t because the Noah will know something is up and if I start crying now then I won’t be able to stop. Bloody hell Emily, how could you be so stupid. Wax or no wax, I’ve possibly just ruined my whole future for one stupid, yet highly pleasant drunken fumble.
Matt… I swear to God when I finally see him, I’m going to squeeze his balls so tight that he’s going to wish that he was born a woman.
My phone rings just in time, right before an awkward silence on my part can settle in between us. “Sorry.” I say. “I forgot to switch it to silent. I’m not normally so rude. “I’m genuinely sorry for all of this. I feel absolutely shocking about this whole situation, but what can I do? I’m a mess, my vagina’s a mess and I really need to get home. To feel some sense of normality and security again.
I quickly glance at the screen and feign a shocked expression as I see Rachel’s name flickering before me. “I really need to get this.” I lie again.
Noah nods while topping up our glasses. I really wish he wasn’t so nice and polite. I’d feel less of a bitch that way.
“Hello.” I say as soon as I answer.
“This better be freaking good.” Rachel hisses down the line at me, clearly pissed that I’ve come between her and her Geordie Shore catch-up.
“Oh my God, that’s terrible. Are you okay? You really shouldn’t be on your own.” I press the volume keys down on the side of my phone just in case she breaks out into a major hissy fit. There’s just no telling with her sometimes. Best to be prepared for every possible opportunity.
“I’ll give you terrible if this is just your nerves talking.”
“No.” I answer her question, but place my hand over my mouth for added effect on Noah’s part. “No, of course I’ll be there. Give me half an hour, maybe an hour tops.”
I shut the phone off and catch Noah watching me closely. “Is everything okay?” He asks, ever the Gentleman.
“I really wish I could say that it was.” I say glumly and I’m not exactly lying. Everything’s not okay and it feels like it’s getting worse by the minute. I guess it can’t help sitting down on it and adding pressure to my already swollen lady parts. “I hate to do this Noah. I feel terrible, really I do, but I have to go. Rachel’s had some bad news and there’s no way that I can leave her on her own at a time like this.”
“Is she okay? Is there anything that I can do?” He asks, genuinely concerned.
Well, if you can stop my Vajayjay from feeling like it’s the hot spot of hell, then yes. I don’t voice this out loud though, instead I say, “I’m not too sure right now. I think she’d like to keep it private for now. I hope you don’t mind? Honestly, this really couldn’t have happened at a more inconvenient time.” Again I’m being truthful here, it’s just that Noah has no idea what I’m really going on about.
“No, no. Not at all. You go and be with your friend. She clearly needs you and we can always do this again another time?”
“That sounds good to me.” Bloody hell, why does he have to be so nice and understanding? I didn’t think it was possible for men like him to exist. Rachel always warned me about them, but I was adamant it wasn’t possible and that they were all mythical creatures. There’s no way that I deserve to be going on dates with someone like him. He’s just too perfect. I’m really not used to it and it just shocks me at every turn.
“How will you get back? Would you like me to come with you?” Yes I would. I’d love to take him with me and hide him away and keep him all to myself forever. But if he takes one look at my fanny, then he’ll run a mile. “It’s pretty dark out there and I kind of hate the idea of you getting the tube on your own.” See what I mean? Tyler would have just left me to it, without so much as a second thought until he stumbled home and felt like a little poke in the middle of the night.
“No, I’ll be okay. I’ll get a cab. I hate the tube at night too.” It always reminds me of that one scene in Ghost. Every time a can flies past me, I’m stood wondering if it’s the wind or if so
meone’s actually silently watching me from the shadows.
“Right, well if you’re sure? But please let me pay. No…” he holds his big strong hands up to stop my protests and sternly says, “I insist and there won’t be any arguments about it.”
“Way to go Emily, well done. You’re ditching this guy all because one way or another, you just couldn’t keep your legs closed. You need to hurry up and sort your shit out and get your bloody priorities straight before you end up all wrinkly and lonely.”
“Thank you.” I finally manage to say after winning the war of words in my head. Once again I feel like a right ungrateful bitch, slightly horrific at the person that I’m fast becoming and I’m sore, so, so unbelievably sore.
“Have you seen the state of this?” I shout out to Rachel as soon as I hobble into my front room, only to find her in exactly the same spot that I left her in right in front of the T.V. Do you know, I could have really needed her tonight and would she have cared? Would she hell.
Her head finally spins around to face me and she doesn’t look happy. Not in the slightest. “What, the moron stood before me who’s too scared to go out on a date and has to find any excuse to come running home?” Wow. Her reactions a little more harsh than I anticipated. Oh how the high and mighty will mock me, but right now I’m in too much pain to care.
“No this.” I slowly hobble towards her so that she can see all of me and without so much as a second thought, I hastily pull my dress up over my waist and flash her my lady parts in all their horrific, swollen glory. Well, it’s nothing that she hasn’t already seen before. We’re best friends, we know everything that there is to know about each other, including body parts.
“Shitting hell Emily, that looks painful.” Rachel shouts as she takes in a full eyeful of my swollen lips and jumps from the couch to get a closer inspection. “What is it?” She cries out. I don’t know whether I need to start panicking now or not as she looks genuinely concerned and that really scares me. Rachel knows everything and she only ever looks worried if she has reason too.
Heartbreak's A Bitch! Page 13