Emily: R U being serious? X
Fuck me this could go on forever.
Me: Yes! So??? Yay or nay?
Her next reply took almost ten minutes to come through and I imagined it was because she was busy asking Snickers what she should do. If Snickers had anything to do with the answer I received, then she just shot up a few notches in my estimations.
Emily: Sure. Meet you at yours in an hour?
Me: I’ll be at yours in half ;-)
She wasn’t getting out of riding on the back of my bike that easily. I couldn’t wait to feel her petrified little arms quake as she wound herself tightly around me body like a snake.
Shit.
That right there is exactly the kind of thing I need to knock on the head. And I will. A couple of Marshmallows and an M&M or two should do the trick.
Emily didn’t reply again and I had visions of her running around like The Road Runner on crack as she tried to get ready in the restrictive timeframe I’d given her. Little did she know the second I hit send I was already straddling my bike.
No more than ten minutes later I squeezed the bike into the tiniest space between a skip and a dumpster around the back of her building. Tucking my keys into the pocket of my black denim jeans I skipped (not literally) to the front and beat the knocker against the dark wood door.
“Eager much?” Snickers asked, already wheeling away from the door after opening it. Shit. Was I eager? Hell, who am I trying to kid… I was all out fucking desperate. I’d had a taste of life without the desolate loneliness numbing my brain and I didn’t want it to end.
“Crap you’re here!” Emily rushed out in a fluster when she ran into the living room wearing nothing but a towel. Ah hell no – this wasn’t helping my plan one little bit. She crossed her arms over her chest as if I could see what was underneath the fluffy white sheath obscuring my view. “I’ll just be a minute,” she added, scurrying back down the hall and holding on to her towel for dear life.
“Good to see you too, doll!” I called after her.
Wow this wasn’t awkward at all – standing with my hands in my pockets trying not to let my eyes linger in one place for too long – all the while feeling Snickers glare boring into my flesh like a laser. In case you didn’t guess already – that was a lie. The atmosphere was so awkward it was suffocating.
“You better not fuck my girl then leave her high ‘n’ dry.” Instinctively my eyes wandered to Snickers who was giving me the evil eye as she assessed my whole body up and down. She was either trying to work out how worthy I was of her best friend’s attention, or she was checking me out.
“I have no intentions of doing that,” I admitted honestly, never breaking eye-contact with her. I liked this girl a little more already. She had Emily’s back and in my book that made her one of the world’s awesome people – even if she was a whole lotta crazy. She narrowed her eyes and stared into mine as if she thought looking hard enough would allow her to see what I was thinking.
“Well good. ‘Cause I’ve just had a manicure and I’d hate to break a nail ripping your balls off.”
After a good thirty second glowering contest she straightened her back in her chair, flipped her straight pink hair to one side and carried on flicking through the TV channels.
“I’m ready,” Emily announced, panting slightly when she rushed through to living room in perfectly tight fitting indigo jeans and a rich purple sweater.
“Thank fuck for that. This arsehole hasn’t stopped coming on to me since the second you left the room,” Snickers interrupted.
“Wait I-” I started to protest and then Emily rolled her eyes and grabbed my arm.
“She’s just playing with you,” she said. Ah so she was a funny one was she? Or at least one who thought she was funny. She should spend more time with Jared – they were made for each other.
Naturally when we got outside Emily tried to convince me to let her take us in the car. But where was the fun in that? I wouldn’t get to feel her that way. Dammit! Why did I keep forgetting that Emily and I were just, and would only ever be, friends.
FRIENDS. FRIENDS. FRIENDS.
“So which beach are you taking me to?” Emily asked curiously as she grudgingly swung one leg over the bike.
“Brighton,” I answered, locking my helmet into place. I searched Google on my cell this morning for nearby beaches and although Brighton was a good ninety minutes drive away, it’s apparently one of the best beaches in the country. Plus, ninety minutes with Emily’s arms wrapped around my waist-
Stop. Right. Fucking. There…
“But that’s miles away! I can’t sit on the back of this thing for all that time without falling off!” she protested, squealing like such a… girl.
“I won’t let you fall, doll. Now quit whining and hold on tight.”
**********
Every road and parking lot in sight were crammed with cars from the second we crossed over into Brighton. That’s one of the perks of having a motorcycle – you can squeeze in practically anywhere. I nestled the bike in between a large white van and an Audi so beautiful it made my heart twitch, before helping Emily clamber off the back and heading in the direction of the water.
“Take my hand,” I said, holding mine out for her. “Don’t wanna lose you now do I,” I teased, eyeing up the swarms of people littering the sidewalks. But the truth was, I really just wanted to hold her hand. Don’t ask my why because I don’t have a freakin’ clue.
Her hand in mine, we took a slow walk over to the shore. We didn’t really have much of a choice as we were slowly sucked into the crowd who were obviously heading for a snail’s convention. Along the way Emily dragged me into various little shops – which she called ‘tat shops’ – and I came out of one proudly sucking on a pair of Wobbly Titties. Emily blushed and rolled her eyes at me when I began making loud moaning noises as I flicked my tongue over one of the sugar nipples.
What can I say? My mentality stopped maturing at twelve years old.
Next she pulled me into the Sea Life center and I huffed and groaned like a sexually-frustrated woman all the way around. I was bored after the second tank. A fish’s a fish right? I get it, some are small, some are big, some have fancy colors – but it’s still a fish. It still just bobs around looking brain-dead and seeming as bored being watched as I was watching it.
We emerged from the most boring hour and a half of my life and crossed the street in the direction of the sea. Yep you heard me right… an hour. A freakin’ HOUR and a half, staring at fish which all looked the same. How in hell are those places so popular? I’m telling you I was one more tank away from sticking my head in one of them and drowning myself.
We walked across the sand for an hour or so – weaving our way around the patches of kids making sandcastles and grown-ups trying to stop sand fights between them. I still had hold of Emily’s hand. In fact when I look back, I think I only let go long enough to remove the cellophane from my candy tits – which I eventually gave up on and threw in the trash half way round Sea Life when they showed no signs of getting smaller no matter how hard I sucked.
“You’re cold,” I noted, freeing her hand from mine while I removed my black leather jacket. “Here.” I held it out for her like you would for a two year old and she smiled gratefully as she slipped her tiny arms inside. It drowned her completely – her hands no longer visible as they hid under the too-long sleeves.
“Thanks. That was very chivalrous of you,” she teased.
“Yeah well I’ve heard you chicks dig that kinda shit,” I shrugged, trying but failing to keep my face indifferent. She nudged my arm with her shoulder and then started sniffing the air like a freakin’ dog.
“I smell chips,” she beamed, drool practically dripping from her mouth and creating an extra ocean in the sand. I looked around us and once I squinted my eyes I could make out a fish and chip bar across the street with little metal tables situated outside.
“Then chips you shall have.” Holding out a
bent arm for her to link I added, “Madam?”
You ever seen one of those shows about dog rescue pounds? You know, the ones where they find an emaciated dog tied to an old gate just minutes from death and then they take it back, give it a bath and feed it it’s first meal in three months? Well then you’ll know what they look like when they get their mouths round that food – the way they vacuum that shit up without stopping to take a breath.
Yeah, well that’s how Emily eats – and it’s freakin’ adorable. There’s nothing more off-putting than a girl who sits there nibbling at the edges of a piece of lettuce. I mean do they really think us guys are that dumb? Humans gotta eat – fact. So I don’t get why they bother pretending they don’t.
Let’s face it, if a girl’s got a decent rack on her – no man’s gonna give a shit if he catches her eating a burger.
“You want me to keep watch while you eat the plate too?” I mocked. “I’ve heard these places don’t take too kindly to people eating their crockery that’s all. But I’ve got your back, doll.”
“I’d rather just finish those,” she said playfully, pointing towards the handful of fries left on my plate. Seriously, where the hell was she putting it all? Plucking one from my plate and hovering it in front of her plump little lips, she added, “I’m crockeried out for today. I think the mug on top of the bowl this morning was just too much.”
Slumping back in the hard metal chair I watched, slightly more fascinated than I should’ve been, Emily finish off the remnants of my meal.
“Wait!” I whispered loudly (if that makes sense – you must have done a shout-whisper before right?) when she stood up from the table to leave. “That kid over there just dropped a piece of sausage. If you’re fast you can eat it before they notice and clean it up!” Quick as a flash, she wacked me with her purse. I feigned a hurt expression even though I was howling with laughter inside and then I held out my hand for her again, which she didn’t hesitate to take.
Emily is the first person who’s made me laugh – genuinely laugh, not fake laugh – since I was fourteen. Before Emily, the last day I laughed was August 18th 2003, and if I let myself forget to feel guilty about that for a second – then it feels amazing… liberating. I will always love her for bringing laughter back to me.
Wait, did I say love? I meant be grateful to - because to love her after just a few weeks of knowing her would be ridiculous right? Besides, what the fuck do I know about love…
Back on the sand I talked Emily into paddling along the water’s edge. She whined a little, complaining about the cold, but when I threatened to chuck her whole body into the frothy sea she soon quit moaning and followed me towards the shore. I stood still for a few long seconds when we reached it – gazing out in awe towards the endless stretch of unsettled water.
For a moment I was back home. I was alone, admiring the effervescent waves crash against the rocks, taking forgotten debris and lost branches with them as they ventured back out into the impossibly vast ocean and wishing they could take me with them.
“Crap that’s cold!” Emily blared as a small wave lapped over her bare foot, snapping me back to consciousness.
“Quit being a pussy,” I replied, kicking up a mighty-big spray of water her way. She jumped away from me quicker than if I’d just pulled a knife on her.
“Oh my God, Dexter!” she squealed! “Stop it!” she continued when I splashed her again. “I mean it now. Stop,” she added after the third time, growing a little more serious each time. But I was having too much fun. Her angry face was too cute.
Sensing her irritation growing by the second and enjoying it more than I should (I’m mentally stunted remember?) I scooped her up in one swift movement and tossed her over my shoulder, running deeper into the ice-cold water.
“Dexter, please. Put me down!”
“You got it, doll,” I said, laughing lightly and plopping her down into the waist-high water.
“No! Please!” Any trace of humor immediately evaporated from my body. “PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE,” she begged, her eyes on fire with panic. She was all-out scared. Fuck that she was petrified.
I lunged forward instantly, taking her in my arms like a baby and ran as fast as the soft sand beneath my feet would allow, towards the dry land.
“Jesus, Em, I’m so sorry,” I rushed out. She was shaking in my arms. It was more than just the cold – it was pure unadulterated fear. “Shh, doll. You’re out now. I’ve got you,” I reassured. She buried her head in my chest and her body vibrated against me as the tears started to flow. What the fuck had I done? “I’m sorry, doll. I’m so fucking sorry.”
Slowly but surely her body began to relax against me. Then she looked up at me just long enough to say,
“Take me home.”
So I did. And all the day’s fun and giggles became nothing but a grieved memory.
Chapter Eleven Point Five
Dexter
Well it’s Saturday and Emily and I were starting our research for sociology. She hasn’t mentioned what happened at the beach so neither have I. I’ve seen enough fear in people’s eyes throughout my life to know that’s exactly what she was feeling. I considered the fact that maybe she just couldn’t swim but I just wasn’t convinced. For starters she was safe in my arms, and we were only waist-high anyway. It was something more – I could feel it.
Those baby-blue eyes, tortured and afraid, keep haunting me when I try and fall asleep. How weird is that? Actually no, that’s not the weird part. The weird part is that I have the most bizarre ache deep inside my chest to take whatever caused it away from her.
I was dreading today – dreading Emily. She’s done nothing wrong, just being so close to her makes me feel all funny and I don’t like it. It unsettles me and I can’t seem to get rid of it. Three nights and three different fucks have passed and each one bored me a little more. What the hell is wrong with me? I love having her as my friend – shit there I go tossing that stupid word around again… I’ll start again. I really like having her as my friend, but if she’s starting to get even a tiny portion as attached to me as I’m growing to her – then I need to nip that in the bud. Now.
The worst part of the day was going to be spending it at Emily’s place. She had internet access - I didn’t, so it made more sense. When I brought Jenny to life I found myself wondering what sarcastic comments Snickers would have up her sleeve today. I’d ran into her a few times with Emily at college this past week and she was still as irritating as ever.
Speak of the devil… Snickers was smoking a cigarette outside the front door to their maisonette when I pulled up. Apparently Emily had banned her from doing it inside. My eyes glossed over the exposed tattoos on her arms and for the first time I noticed how well done they are. The fish especially is pretty darn cool.
“Hey, Ho!” she hollered, angling her head towards the door and letting her pink hair fall over her face. I’m sure it was purple yesterday… “The American’s here!” I’d yet to hear her use my actual name once. “Go on up,” she said to me as I neared where she was sitting.
“Cheers, Snickers.” She pursed her eyebrows and bobbed her head forward a little as if she were sure she’d misheard. If she can’t be bothered using my name, why should I use hers? Twelve years old, remember?
“You want something to eat first? Or just dive right in?” Emily asked with her cute smile.
“Sure, I could do food. What you got in mind?” I followed Emily through to their kitchen and propped myself against the doorjamb while she rifled through her cupboards.
“Hmmm. I’ve got Pot Noodles, Super Noodles, or…” she paused while she checked the last pine cupboard, “Pot Noodles.”
“I’m guessing you like noodles,” I teased.
“Not really. I mean I can eat them but I wouldn’t buy them if it was left to me. Rachel’s addicted though. She even had one for breakfast this morning, how minging is that?”
“Minging?” I asked, confused. Pretty sure that was one I hadn’t hea
rd before.
“Yeah, like… gross,” she clarified. Minging I repeated in my head. What a strange word. “So what’s it to be? Noodles or noodles?”
“Tough decision but I think I gotta stay true to my heart and go with the noodles. Preferably the Pot variety.” Emily giggled, tossed her fiery hair over her shoulder and flicked the switch for the kettle.
It was just minutes later when Emily introduced me to the most orgasmic taste ever to enter my mouth – Pot Noodle ‘butties’. To the layman, that translates as noodle sandwiches. Right then I decided I was gonna get me some of those bad boys next time I hit the store.
It was all going great until Snickers decided to join us, moaning on about how bored she was.
“I’m still bored,” she groaned for the third time.
“I’m sorry, Rach but we have to get started on this,” Emily apologized – unnecessarily in my opinion. “Why don’t you finish up your beer bottle thing?”
“Ran out of bottles,” she said sulkily. I had no idea what they were referring to and to be honest I didn’t really give a shit. “Oooo that’s it!” she beamed, slapping her hands against the wheels of her chair. “We should have a mini-party tonight and make it a rule that people can only drink beer. There’s already three of us here… who else can we invite?”
“You know I work in a pub right? I could easily get my hands on a ton of empty bottles for you,” I offered. Mainly because I couldn’t think of anything worse than sitting here watching her get wasted all night.
“Yeah but where’s the fun in that? My way’s much better. So come on, Ho, who we gonna invite?”
“Why you asking me? I don’t know anybody,” Emily sighed, and in that very moment I witnessed the loneliness in her eyes. I recognized it because I’d seen it so often in my own.
Take My Hand Page 9
