by L. T. Smith
Shit.
I felt my face burn again, and smiled weakly at the group of lads seated around the stage. The same group of lads who I had landed on two weeks previously.
I think.
I made my way to the bar and tried to hide in the darkest corner. Hopefully my face would return to a more natural sheen after I had been served my coke by the truly inept bartender who was more likely better equipped to serve chips in Mac Donald’s … or not … as he would definitely fail the health and hygiene test.
After securing my drink, and pushing drunken students off me, I scanned the room looking for Ash. It was dark and smoky, and my eyes worked hard acclimatising to the gloom, especially because the bar area was bright enough to nearly cause a tan.
I could feel her rather than see her. Feel her eyes on me.
Slowly I turned to look behind me. And there she was … half standing, as if she had just started to get up from her chair. Her eyes focused straight on me and she looked dazed for some reason. Ben, the dickhead, was next to her, but when he went to grab her hand, she pulled it sharply away from him … her eyes never leaving mine.
It felt weird. Tingles spread up my spine, and for some reason I was beginning to become uncomfortable. So, I waved at her.
No response.
I waved again.
Still no response.
So I began to walk over, feeling a little self-conscious by this point, but pasting a smile on my face to hide the tumultuous emotions racing around inside. I couldn’t understand why my heart was roaring inside my chest so loudly I believed everyone could hear it.
Then I saw her shake her head … just a little shake … but a shake nevertheless. Her eyes lost the glassiness and began to squint a little. It was my cue to make contact … so … I waved again and did the cheesy ‘Hi’ thing.
This time her face broke out into a grin and I smiled in return, the uncomfortable feeling disappearing, but it was replaced with a feeling of excitement as I approached the table. Ben was eyeing me up and down and I wanted to tell him to fuck off … but evidently, I’m too much of a lady.
It wasn’t until I actually reached the table that I realised the other people around it were Stephen and Tracy. Shit. I liked Stephen … but Tracy? Christ … could my night get any worse.
It was fun. Well … for the most part anyway. I enjoyed being in Ash and Stephen’s company, but little could be said about the other two. Ben was an out and out wanker … I couldn’t see what Ash saw in him. All he did all night was hit on girls in the bar. Funny thing was, Ash didn’t seem to mind! I’d have gone bonkers.
As for Tracy … well you know my views on her. She is what is commonly known as a ‘Twattette’, and spent most of the evening glaring in my direction whilst sipping a Pernod and black. How common. She didn’t even realise she had red lines up the side of her face (made by the blackcurrant as she drank) making her look like either the Joker or the Count from Sesame Street.
Funny … nobody could be arsed telling her. She sat there like Lady Muck from Turd Hall thinking she was something she most certainly wasn’t, looking for all the world like she would suddenly shout out ‘One Pernod and black ahahahah … Two Pernod and blacks …’ You get the message.
It’s a pity she didn’t.
And I for one most certainly wasn’t going to be the one to tell her. I know … but honestly … would you?
It wasn’t until the end of the night that the experience happened … remember … the one I threatened you with earlier.
I had just gone to the phone booth to call my parents to say I would be leaving in about twenty minutes and would be on the next bus home, when it all kicked off.
I should have seen it coming, but I didn’t.
I should have known she would do something, but let’s put it down to the innocence of youth … or just plain stupidity.
And I should have been paying attention instead of rummaging around in my purse looking for change for the bus.
Silly me.
‘Think you’re so fucking clever don’t you?’ Tracy. ‘I bet you were laughing at me all night?’ She came out of the shadows and came closer to me; her face was devoid of blackcurrant by now. ‘I’ll fucking teach you.’
Smack!
In retrospect I should have ducked. In retrospect … I should have smacked her back … but I didn’t.
Do you know why?
No?
I didn’t smack her back because I didn’t have to.
Ash did.
Right in her blackcurrant gobbling mouth.
Now for the embarrassing thing …
‘Why the fuck did you do that? I don’t need you to fight my battles!’
Ash looked stunned … more stunned than Tracy, who was on the floor nursing her face by this point. ‘But I …’
‘But you what? Think I can’t look after myself?’
The bar had gone completely quiet, and I knew people were staring at us … at me in particular. Someone came up behind me and I felt my whole body tense. A deep male voice spoke firmly into my ear. ‘I think it is time to go, love.’
It was the bouncer. And he didn’t sound pleased, and neither was I for that matter. I was getting kicked out for doing absolutely nothing, whilst Tracy was being helped up by a member of staff and Ash just stared at me, her face pale.
‘But I didn’t do anything …’ My voice sounded whining even to my ears.
‘It doesn’t matter, love … it’s for the best.’
Ash tried to interrupt and tell them what had happened, but I rounded on her, the tone definitely one of anger.
‘Look! However hard it is to believe … I’ve grown up, Ash … I’m not a child anymore for Christ’s sake.’
With that, I turned and marched away, but not before I heard Ash mumble something. I don’t know what she meant, or even if I heard right, but it sounded like ‘I’ve noticed.’
It’s a pity she only figured that out when I had given her a mouthful.
CHAPTER TEN
I SPENT THE WHOLE of Saturday kicking myself … and wishing I was kicking Tracy instead.
I was at work … the crappiest job this side of the Pennines. I worked as an assistant on Stockport market, serving cooked meats. It wasn’t the cooked meats that were disgusting … it was the smell of the indoor market.
Fuck me. It was gross.
Imagine the smell of curdled milk mixed with the smell of a cow’s stomach lining. Yep … totally disgusting. Inside the market cheese, tripe, eggs, and cooked meats were served to people who obviously had no sense of smell. It always took me at least thirty minutes to acclimatize myself to it, and this was only my second Saturday.
I worked with six other girls and one lad who was solely in charge of the meat slicer. Very glamorous. It was a long day, nine and a half hours on our feet, and we only got half hour for lunch, which we took in pairs.
I got on with most of the girls, but one girl, Sarah, really stood out from the crowd. Strangely enough, she had taken me under her wing, and for the two weeks I had worked there, we had taken our dinner together.
As I said before, I was pissed off, and Sarah noticed. She kept on asking if I was okay … if I wanted to talk about it. Each time I turned her down … I was just angry about things … about Tracy … about Ash. All this in between serving people whose main concern was how much sliced ham they would need for Sunday tea.
Lunchtime couldn’t come quick enough, and I grabbed my sandwich and bottle of orange, and made my way to the locker room to get out of my overall … which by this time stunk to high heaven of sour milk and fat.
Sarah was right behind me, and neither of us said a word as we made our way into St Mary’s churchyard, where we ate our lunch and looked over Stockport.
It was amazing how quiet it was there. We were completely on our own as we munched our lunch and stared over the hills, the rest of the market din was like a distant memory.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Sarah’s voice w
as low, almost non-existent. And if I hadn’t be looking at her at the time I would have missed it entirely.
‘There’s nothing to tell.’
Sarah looked up from her sandwich and into my eyes. She had blue eyes … a little like Ash’s … but darker. I felt an ache skip across my chest, and without thinking raised my hand to it and rubbed, all the while staring into Sarah’s eyes.
I can’t tell you how long we just looked at each other … but it was as if I was transfixed by the blueness.
‘Are you free tonight?’ A pause before she continued. ‘I was wondering if you fancied going to the pictures or something.’ I still held her gaze, and nearly a minute went by before …
‘I’d love to.’ My voice seemed distant. Almost as distant as the sounds of the market.
A smile broke out on her face and mine followed suit. ‘We’d better get back before they send out a search party.’
I nodded, scrunched up my sandwich wrapper before finishing the last dregs of my orange, stood up and waited for Sarah to join me.
I was still annoyed about last night, and I hadn’t heard from Ash … but … I had a feeling tonight was going to be more interesting.
I met Sarah outside the pictures at 7 pm. We were going to see A Nightmare on Elm Street, which was an 18, and I was only sixteen (nearly seventeen though). Sarah was okay, as she had turned eighteen in July.
There wasn’t a problem getting in, as the boy on the desk looked younger than me … and his acne … I won’t go there in case you’re eating.
We made our way into the darkened cinema, the adverts were blaring out Pearl and Dean’s memorable tune, as adverts flashed on and off the screen promoting a mixture of crap and shite … in that order.
I did a double take as Sarah struggled along the back row, past all of the teenagers who were already snogging before the main feature began, but I just followed behind her, whispering ‘Excuse mes’ and ‘Sorrys’ as I tripped over extended legs, trying to duck at the same time. It was not as if they were actually watching the film … but I felt a little unnerved to say the least.
Finally, Sarah settled into a chair that had a couple of empty chairs around us, and she patted the seat next to her, her blue eyes glowing in reflection of the lights from the screen. I think she knew I was going to sit in the chair that would leave an empty one between us. Don’t ask me why … I just … felt … like … I should for some reason or another.
Before long, the film was underway. And I was not happy. Freddy Krueger frightened the shit out of me … and not just because of his exceptionally bad taste in stripy tops either. I felt the fear of the characters grip me around the throat, and was scared I was going to fall asleep later and see the melted faced freak coming at me. Sarah seemed cool about all the blood, and asked if I was all right on more than one occasion.
As it approached the end, and nearly all of the characters had copped their lot in one way or another, I could feel the fear climbing up my throat. I had never been one for scary movies, and this was in a class of its own on the fear factor. Seeing the young lad trying to escape something that, to me, seemed inescapable, was playing on my nerves. It took me quite a while to realise I was actually holding Sarah’s hand.
The only reason how I realised I was, was the way she smiled at me, and raised an eyebrow when I turned to see her reaction to a particularly gruesome bit. My face must have showed confusion, as she nodded to where my hand was resting on her thigh, totally ensconced in her own.
I looked back at her and was just about to apologise and pull away, when she smiled at me, moved closer until she was firmly pressed against my side, and began to stroke the back of my hand with her thumb. I should have felt disgusted … a woman was holding my hand, and not in a way friends would usually hold each other’s hands, if you know what I mean.
However, I wasn’t disgusted. Far from it in fact. I felt a growing excitement build in my gut … the same excitement I felt every time I thought of Ash … and her smile … and her eyes.
Shit … I didn’t know what this meant. Was I gay then? A lesbian?
But I had never …
Me? Gay? A lezza? A dyke? A queer?
Nah … I wasn’t one of those … was I? I had been with lads, not … erm … like … all the way … you know … but I did fancy lads … didn’t I?
‘Are you all right, Lou?’ Sarah’s face was close to mine and I had an urge to kiss her … on her mouth … her lips … taste her lipstick … slip my tongue … fuck.
‘Ahem … yeah … yeah … fine.’ My face was incandescent. I could feel the glow race around my body, shouting to all who were listening ‘Lou’s a lezza! Lou’s a lezza!’
‘Why are you sitting forward like that? Sit back … come on … enjoy it.’
What? Enjoy what? Shit! Did she know? Fuck! Was she a lezza too?
As these thoughts trotted around my mind, going to every corner of that grey matter asking for directions, I could feel Sarah’s arm sneaking around my back. I could also feel myself stiffen at her touch.
‘Hey, Lou … it’s okay … it’s okay …’ Her voice was soothing … sweet and soft … and I drifted back into my seat, with her arm around my shoulders and her hand in mine.
We sat this way until the end credits, which by this stage came all too soon.
Sarah had her own car, and had passed her test in the summer. It wasn’t anything special, just a old Mini, but at least she had transport. When she asked if I would like a lift home, doubt flooded my mind once again.
Did I want to get in the car … alone … with her? What if she … if I … if we …
Never mind. To cut a long story short, I got a lift. Sarah was easy to talk to, and we laughed a great deal on the way home. She was a student at Manchester Uni, and she worked two jobs as well … one on the market, and one in a pub on a Thursday night. My expression must have said it all … how on earth could she work on a Thursday when she had to get up for Uni?
She explained student life at the higher level was less demanding. More focus was placed on independent learning, and students didn’t have to be there all the time.
And the added bonus was … she never mentioned the hand holding incident … or the arm around my shoulders. But … I honestly didn’t know my arse from my elbow by the time we reached the top of my road. Not that I usually do … but still … I was becoming confused.
She pulled up on the side road, as my house was on a corner, and turned her ignition off. If you had been there I guarantee you would have heard my heart rate build up and up and up. The silence in the car was making screeching noises … and was finally put in its place by the thudding in my chest … gut … and maybe even a little bit lower. The blood gushing in my ears was beginning to become a problem, especially when I had to ask Sarah to repeat what she had just said.
A sheepish smile flittered across her face, and she cast her eyes down to her lap before raising them to meet my own.
‘I said … I’ve had a lovely night tonight … and thank you.’ The smile danced along the corners of her lips … not a crooked one … but still quite charming in its own way.
‘Same here …’
‘Could we … would you … erm … like to do it again … erm … sometime?’ Why was she so nervous, said me, who had an entire butterfly collection fluttering around in my gut?
‘I’d love to.’ Her face broke out into a grin and she bit her lip whilst bobbing her head up and down …
‘Good … good …’ I just watched her, transfixed by this woman seated next to me, watching the lights from the street lamps do wonders with her eyes … making them glisten and sparkle … although they didn’t twinkle … I had only ever met one person who’s eyes twinkled.
But this is not the time to be thinking about her, is it?
I was sat in a car with Sarah. Not Ash. Sarah.
I looked at her, sat there, staring ahead at the quiet road and really digested this girl who was here with me. She was pretty … ver
y pretty in fact. Her hair was darker in this light, but it was usually a dark brown. Her face had an angelic quality; her skin smooth and clear. Her lips, although slightly parted, still held a slight plumpness … and looked soft … and tender.
Shit. I was a lezza. Why else would I be thinking about how soft and tender her lips were?
Crap. That’s all I needed.
But she was so pretty …
My thoughts were interrupted by a movement … from Sarah. She had turned herself to face me, and her expression held a question. Obviously, being a wuss, I thought this was the time to make my excuses and leave.
‘Well … I had best get gone. I’ve really enjoyed myself tonight.’
‘Lou?’ Her voice stopped my escape, and I turned to look at her once again. ‘I’ve had a lovely time tonight … really lovely. In fact …’
At this point, she leaned towards me, and I leaned back on the door, willing it to open and let me out. I saw her come closer and then …pull back, her face seemed to show the confusion I was feeling. All my senses were in overdrive. I could smell her perfume: it was intoxicating. I could hear my blood whistling through my veins, racing to parts that shall be left unmentioned.
And I could see this situation getting out of hand if I didn’t do something … and quick.
So I did.
I leaned forward and planted my lips to hers, quite clumsily at first, and I think I took her by surprise … and that made the both of us. I could taste her lipstick in my mouth as I kissed her … and it tasted so much better than when I tasted it on myself.
When the surprise wore off, I could feel her responding to me, and I followed suit, our mouths moving against each other’s in a steady rhythm. I could feel her hand stroking the side of my head, so I lifted my hand and started doing the same. Then she tangled her fingers into my hair and I felt a groan leave my stomach and race upwards to burst out of my mouth and into hers.
She moaned back, and then slipped a very inquisitive tongue into my mouth.
Now this was the first time I had ever kissed a woman. Ever. And I had never thought about kissing another woman. Ever … or … had I? This wasn’t the time to start questioning what I had or hadn’t thought. I was kissing a woman, in the front seat of her car, parked outside my house on a Saturday night … and I was thoroughly enjoying it.