“Okay.”
Within seconds I was strapped inside the back of the car breathing for the first time in ten minutes. Thank God that was over. Bring on round two.
Chapter Five
Dexter
“Don’t,” I ordered firmly when Jared came into view outside his apartment block. The shit was laughing at me and I seriously wanted to punch him in the face. The rational part of me knew I too would find it amusing if I caught sight of him looking like a drowned rat with his entire life’s belongings rolled into a soggy heap by his feet. But it wasn’t him. It was me. And I was pissed off to the max.
After managing to compose himself just long enough to pull his keys from his pocket, Jared buzzed us inside and led me up to the twelfth floor of the fancier than anticipated building. I’d never been to Jared’s before. He’d been to my place a couple of times but that was uninvited and unannounced so I didn’t really get much choice in the matter.
Compared to Jared’s apartment, I live in a cesspool. Everywhere is chrome and black granite with white leather furnishings and glossy black gadgets everywhere – the ultimate bachelor pad. I’m guessing his rich daddy had more than a little to do with it.
“Nice place,” I stated, absorbing my surroundings.
“Cheers, mate. The girls think so too.” He winked at me and I gave him my best revolted glare.
“Dude, you fucking flirting with me or somethin’?”
“In your dreams, pal. Look it’s only a one-bed, but the couch is pretty comfortable. I’ve spent many a night on there when I’ve been too wasted to be arsed hauling my butt off to bed. You can use it for as long as you like.” Jared’s a good guy. I’ve only known him a month or so but I knew almost straight away he was the kind to get your back if you need it.
“Thanks, man. The landlord thinks it’s gonna take three or four weeks, but I’m still hoping it’ll be sooner. The place is ruined.” I’d been out for a run and when I came home I was met with a tsunami of freezing cold water spurting in every direction. I don’t own much but everything I do is absolutely drenched – including myself. The whole place needs re-plumbing and in the meantime it’s uninhabitable which means I’m effectively homeless. “And of course I’ll match the rent I was paying on my place. My tenancy’s on hold till it’s all sorted so I’ll just transfer the standing order over to your bank instead.”
“Don’t worry about it. Maybe save for some new furniture or whatever other shit you need to replace.” Wow. Wasn’t expecting that. Free rent? Get in. I knew I should argue and insist he take the money from me, but the truth is I’ll have extra money to send over to Aunt Sarah and there’s no way in hell I’d pass on a opportunity to do that.
“I really appreciate this,” I said sincerely, tossing my sodden suitcase on the floor by my new couch-shaped bed. I couldn’t fit the case on the back of my bike so I had to hail a cab. “And sorry if I ruined your big date.”
“Yeah well I almost had that one covered myself,” he admitted, rolling his eyes at no one in particular.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I kinda said I was surprised her mate in the chair had the balls to sport the mad hair and tattoos and stuff. I sort of implied she had enough reasons for people to stare at her.”
“Ouch. Not cool, man.” I can’t believe he said that! What a dumbass. “Never, ever, diss a chick’s friend. It’s like rule number one.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Sometimes I just can’t seem to stop myself talking through my arse. But hey, that was in the first few minutes and she stuck around so I’m pretty sure I’m forgiven.” That’ll be because she’s a Tootsie. Tootsie’s forgive way too easily. Hence the fact they’re so much easier to hurt and let down.
“Mind if I take a shower and crash?” I asked. I was cold, wet and in a mood so vile I detested my own company.
“Sure, mate. Bathroom’s down the hall to the left. I’ll leave some sheets and pillows on the couch for when you get out.” I nodded gratefully before unzipping my suitcase and taking out a handful of the toiletries I’d thrown loosely inside, and then made my way to the bathroom.
This day needed to be over. Fast.
**********
Day three of sleeping on Jared’s couch and my neck is as stiff as fuck. Lectures start tomorrow – that should be fun when I’m this freakin’ exhausted. At least I’ve got two nights off work so I can chill while I get used to the whole ‘being a student’ thing. Sometimes I wonder what the hell I’m getting myself into. I’m a twenty-four year old freshman. That just seems wrong somehow. But it’s my fresh start – my chance to put right some of the crap I’ve caused and make Aunt Sarah proud of me again.
I won’t let her down. I can’t.
I’ve spent the last three days drying off my stuff and this afternoon’s task was to iron out my clothes and pile them neatly beside the couch out of the way. Yeah I know – I’m a domestic god. You should smell my Apple Pie – I’m a mean baker too.
I left the apartment empty when I ran to the store to buy food for the glossy black cupboard I’d claimed as my own in the kitchen, but when I got home Jared was back – new piece-of-ass in tow.
“Hey, mate. You remember Emily right?”
“Sure. Hi.”
“Hi,” she mumbled nervously back, flicking her fiery hair to the sides of her face. She was sitting next to Jared, in jeans so mouth-wateringly tight they should be illegal, looking altogether flushed. They’d so obviously been making out on the couch. The couch where I have to sleep. Ugh.
“I’ll leave you two to it,” I said eagerly, holding my bags of groceries in the air and planning to take them through to the kitchen.
“No need. We’re just leaving.”
Good.
“Don’t wait up,” he added with one of those disturbing winks. Seriously what guy winks at his friends? It’s freakin’ weird.
“Wasn’t planning on,” I retorted, and then headed to the kitchen to put the food away.
When I was done I threw a couple of cream-cheese bagels down my throat and went about gathering my things for the morning. It felt like the first day back at school counting my pens and notes books. I even got myself a satchel – how cool am I? Next I made up my makeshift bed on the couch before slipping myself under the hearts and stars comforter (which Jared has assured me numerous times an ex-chick left behind) and flicking through the TV channels.
Ah, Jeremy Kyle re-runs. A UK sensation filled with what Jared calls ‘chavs’ arguing about who’s the daddy - guaranteed to numb my brain for a couple of hours.
**********
An almighty crash and what sounded like a tussle jolted me awake. I shot up from the couch and headed towards the noise where I found Jared being held upright by his visibly struggling new girlfriend. Immediately I leapt forward and took the dead weight from her, stirring Jared from what appeared to be an alcohol induced coma.
“H-hi, hon-honey. I’m hooooome,” he slurred as he attempted to clap me on the back but missed and ended up stroking my cheek.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what to do with him,” Emily said, doubled over as she strove to regain her breath. Why was she sorry? If the jackass decided it would be cool to drink his own body weight in what - judging by his repulsive breath - smelt like rum, that was his own stupid fault.
“I’ll just…” I trailed off, nodding my head towards the end of the hall where Jared’s bedroom resided.
I dragged Jared’s sorry ass through to his room and shoved him not so gently down onto the bed before rolling my eyes and leaving him and his painfully irritating singing to it. When I closed the door behind me he was massacring the chorus of There Must Be An Angel by the Eurythmics. Where’s a tape-recorder when you need one?
“Is he okay?” Emily asked, looking genuinely concerned when I joined her back in the hall. What, had she never seen someone wasted before?
“He’ll be fine after twenty-four hours sleep and a bath in some strong coffee.”
“Ri
ght,” she nodded. “Guess I’d best be off,” she added, rifling through her purse. “Damn!”
“Something wrong?” I felt obligated to ask.
“I can’t find my wallet. I must’ve left it on the bar or something,” she mumbled – her voice wavering as if she might cry.
“You need some money to get home?” I assumed that was the issue here.
“No, no,” she said while shaking her unmissable red curls from side to side. “Actually, yeah. I suppose I do.” She bit down on her bottom lip as she looked up at me nervously through her jet-black (obviously fake) lashes. “I’ll pay you back of course.”
“Sure, whatever. Will a twenty cover it?” I asked, grabbing my wallet from the pocket of my tan leather jacket which hung on the chrome coatrack just behind me. She better had pay me back too – I can’t afford to give to charity.
“Absolutely. You’re a lifesaver. Thank you.” She plucked the note from my hand and then pulled out her cell to ring a cab. Fifteen minutes the goddamn thing took to arrive. Fifteen minutes of awkward silence with a girl who blushes more frequently than she takes a breath was not my idea of fun.
I had the door held open for her before the cab’s horn had even finished sounding.
“See you around,” I muttered dutifully, eager to get back to sleep before my first day of lectures.
“See you. And thanks again.” Slamming the door behind her, I let out an impressive yawn and scratched my head all the way back to the couch.
I was asleep before my ass touched the cushions.
Chapter Six
Emily
“Right, Ho. Here’s the plan of action,” Rachel said as I tossed the last few things I thought I might need into my bag. “When I give you the nod, you need to drop your books,” she added, rolling the sleeves of her white-knit jumper up to expose the bottom half of her sleeves – a koi fish surrounded by waves and cherry blossoms on the left arm, and a collection of Japanese flowers on the right.
“Eh?” I asked, totally confused.
“Oh come on, that’s how all the girls in books meet the man of their dreams. When I see a hot guy I’ll give you the nod. Then you’re gonna drop your books on the floor and give out your best damsel in distress look. He’ll bend down to help you pick them up, then you’ll bump into each other on the way back up and when he looks into those big blue eyes of yours he won’t be able to stop himself planning the wedding, babies, the lot.”
“Um, I already have a boyfriend remember?”
“He’s not your boyfriend. You haven’t even fucked him yet.” You can always count on Rachel to lower the tone. “Besides, if last night hasn’t proved what a total loser he is I don’t know what will. What kind of guy gets off his tits to the point he can’t piss straight when he’s supposed to be romancing his girl?” She had a point. I was more than a little disappointed with Jared last night. I’ve only known him a few days but the more time I spend with him the more apparent it becomes just how little we have in common. He’s a nice enough guy, but drinking and talking football and sci-fi just isn’t my thing.
“Either way, I’m not looking for anyone new. I need to concentrate on my studies.”
“I think you’ll find being a boring old spinster is not on the New Life list,” Rachel said with a disapproving raised eyebrow. I shook my head, dismissing her. Then I threw my bag over my shoulder and took hold of the handles to her wheelchair.
“Come on. We’ve got classes to find.”
Rachel and I went our separate ways after I eventually found a parking space big enough to lift her chair from my silver Ford Fiesta. More than half of the bays reserved for disabled parking held cars without disabled permits – some people were so selfish. And lazy.
Armed with a map, a fresh coffee from Starbucks and a stomach full of killer butterflies, I set off to find my first class. Let’s just say the experience did wonders for my social skills practice. It took me over half an hour of walking in circles, climbing staircases and asking every other person I came across for directions before I found the Psychology building. This caused me to be twelve minutes late and by the time I reached the door to my class I was a nervous, clammy and completely breathless wreck.
It’s not like school of course. There wasn’t a big scene, I didn’t have to get a note from my mum or fear a week’s detention. I just slipped in mostly unnoticed and scanned the room for the first available seat.
No bloody way…
If Rachel hadn’t devised her ingenious ‘dropping the books’ trick to find me a hot guy, this would have definitely been option two. I had literally just walked into any one of the books on my Kindle. They nearly all started with either book dropping, or this…
Sliding into my seat, Jared’s friend Mr Nameless didn’t even look up from his paper.
“Hey.” I nudged his shoulder. His head turned and his dark-blue eyes met mine.
“Um, hey.” His eyes widened, appearing almost startled as he acknowledged my presence.
“This is a coincidence if ever there was one,” I whispered. He simply nodded and a let out a sort of huffing sound before turning his attention back to the tutor. I figured I should do the same if I wanted to make a good impression.
I listened intently as our tutor guided us through what was expected of us, what we could expect from him, and handed us a never-ending pile of notes and textbooks. There was no way they were all going to fit in my bag and I could suddenly see myself actually dropping them in front of some cute guy – only it would be a genuine accident.
Psychology sounded way harder than I was anticipating. And more boring. I never planned to go to university you see and it was the only pathway that really jumped out at me. I’ve spent my life wishing I could be different – more confident, more social… be whatever it takes to make my mum happy. Maybe I thought with psychology I would learn about how my own mind works – my own personal therapy so to speak.
Mr Nameless remained quiet and rigid throughout and I wondered if maybe I’d done something to annoy him. Maybe he blamed me for Jared’s behaviour last night or something. This guy was so unsociable it made me look like a party animal.
It made me feel self-conscious sitting so close to him and I found my eyes skimming the room for somewhere else to sit next time. It’s sod’s law the place was crammed of course. It seemed psychology was a popular choice. Still, it’s common knowledge that almost half of undergraduates drop out during their first year so I felt a little better knowing it was only a matter of time before another seat became spare.
“Here. I have the money I owe you,” I said, breaking into the uncomfortable silence between us once the tutor wrapped things up for the morning while trying extremely hard not to focus on the intoxicating scent of his spicy aftershave. “Thanks again for your help.”
“Anytime,” he murmured with a ghost of a smile, taking the two ten-pound notes from me. My eyes followed the notes as he stuffed them carelessly into his open wallet. Then they zoned in on his student I.D. card – Dexter Michaels.
“Dexter,” I noted. “Like the serial killer?”
“Excuse me?” he asked, perplexity washing over his face.
“Your name. Dexter – like the serial killer Dexter,” I repeated, suddenly feeling dumber than a sack of crap.
“Yeah, I guess. Most people call me Dex.” Oh my God, did he actually just volunteer some information about himself? Something unreachable flickered behind his dark blue eyes – intriguing me… captivating me.
Huh.
Weird.
“Well most people call me Em.”
“Well, Em, I’m sure we’ll see each other soon,” he said with a full-blown smile this time as he stood up from his seat. I swear it was impossible to decipher what mood this man was in. Maybe he had one of those mood disorders you read about.
“Definitely. I’m coming round to yours… well, Jared’s tonight.”
“I’ll be working,” he deadpanned. For some unfathomable reason that disappoin
ted me more than it should.
“Oh. Well see you here tomorrow then?”
“Sure. See ya, Em,” he replied with a sultry smile I’d never seen before. The way his American tongue tickled my name when he said it left me feeling a little giddy and I stared after him until he disappeared into the crowd of exiting students.
“Bye,” I finally mouthed, even though there was no one in sight.
Feeling a little lightheaded I decided to text Rachel and tell her I’d meet her in the Starbucks across the road instead of the car park like we’d agreed. I needed a coffee fix – pronto. I felt strange – like I was coming down with something. My head was spinning a little and I felt nauseous. After tucking my phone back into my pocket I slung my back-breakingly heavy bag over my shoulder, loaded my arms up with the mass of books on my desk and set off to find some much needed cool air.
**********
Two weeks in and I think I’m starting to get the hang of being a student in the heart of London. I can feel my confidence levels growing by the day. They’ve had to – this city is so busy absolutely all of the time. There’s always someone bumping into you, asking you for something, striking up conversation just because you’re there… I’m actually pretty proud of how far I’ve come. I can now hold a full-blown conversation with a total stranger without my heart hammering to a near explosion.
With my collection of Glee songs playing softly in the background, I was choosing an outfit to wear, trying to decide between my fine-knit grey jumper-dress or my skinny jeans and cobalt-blue halterneck, when my phone rang. I groaned loudly the second I checked it and saw Mum Calling illuminate the screen. Grudgingly, I swiped my finger across to answer.
Take My Hand Page 4
