Lean On Me (Take My Hand)

by Nicola Haken

  “You’re just… you. You’re a girl I’ve gotten really close to recently. A girl who shares my twisted sense of humour, likes the same TV shows, shares mutual friends, drinks like a fish, swears as much as I do… and who just happens to be fucking beautiful. You’re sat down? So what?”

  The air had turned a deep shade of serious and I started to wonder if maybe I hadn’t sobered up as much as I thought I had. Just then, my mum appeared in the doorway. I had never been more relieved to see her… but then she said goodnight, reminded me she and Dad were leaving early to visit her friend Sandra in the morning and told us she was going to bed.

  “Jared…” I trailed off when I realised I had no bloody idea what to say.

  “Look, Rachel… if you tell me you’re not interested then I’ll back off, no questions asked. But… I’ve been… man, I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a giant pussy.” He paused and drew in a deep breath. “Well I’ve been… feeling things around you lately that I didn’t understand until tonight. When you got embarrassed about you fall earlier? It hurt me. I didn’t like seeing you like that and I just wanted to hold you… make you feel better.”

  “Jared, I don’t…” Turned out I didn’t know what I planned to say again.

  “Just let me kiss you,” he said softly, tucking one hand behind the nape of my neck. “Just once… and if you don’t feel anything we can go back to the way we’ve always been. Friends.” Yeah, like that’ll happen. A tiny ball of fear was already beginning to swell in my belly. In the last five minutes our relationship had already begun to drastically change and I was so bloody scared there would be no going back from that. “Just trust me,” he whispered – settling his lips on mine before I could respond.

  Holy fucking WOW.

  My lips melted into his, parting slightly and allowing him to delve deeper with his tongue. Every so often he would slip out, running his tongue over my new lip-ring - stinging the tender flesh just slightly - and my hands tailed up his strong arms and settled in his sandy-blonde hair, impatiently pulling him closer to me. I’d never felt anything this intense before. For the first time it wasn’t just the swell of excitement between my legs (though that was most definitely there) spurring me on - it was the pressure of my heart hammering against my ribs, the force of the blood rushing through my veins, the throb of the pulse in my neck…

  A soft moan escaped my throat and Jared pulled me in tighter to his chest. I could feel his heart racing as violently as my own as I breathed an intoxicating scent I’d never noticed coming off him before. My nose revelled in the smell of his spicy aftershave… but it ran deeper than that. With every breath I took I could smell more of him – almond bodywash, minty toothpaste and a hint of an unfamiliar musky scent that I’m sure belonged only to Jared’s skin.

  “So, saffy…” he murmured, pulling away and nudging my nose with his. “What do you say? Fancy giving us a shot?”

  Yes.

  YES YES YES!

  “I-I don’t know.” Argh! Why wasn’t my mouth working properly? I wanted so desperately to say yes but the word just wouldn’t come out.

  “What are you afraid of?” he asked curiously, pulling back a little further. “You know I wouldn’t just fuck and run. I’m not that kind of guy.” I raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him and almost choked on the solitary laugh that burst from my throat. “Okay… so let me rephrase that. I’m not that kind of guy with you.”

  Pushing Jared away from me, I gripped onto my chair and pulled myself over.

  “I’m sorry, Jared. I just… can’t.” Risking a glance at the face I didn’t realise was so beautiful until tonight, I expected to be met with an expression of disappointment. But instead, his green eyes twinkled and he flashed me his infamous goofy grin.

  “You can. And you will. Just you wait and see.” Huh? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Turns out I didn’t have the balls to stick around and find out.

  “Goodnight, Jared,” I said simply, turning around and making my way to the lift in the dining room.

  “G’night, saffy.”

  Chapter Three

  Jared

  Well, it’s game on. How the hell didn’t I realise what that annoying fluttering thing that’s been going on inside my chest was? Well now I know. It’s the feeling of my heart being pulled towards Rachel and I don’t care how girly that makes me sound – I want her and I’m bloody well going to get her.

  With my new mission fresh in my mind I woke up with an extra spring in my step. Rachel’s parents had already left to visit one of Caroline’s friends by the time I got downstairs so with nothing else to do, I started mentally preparing my Win Rachel plan. First on the list? Breakfast.

  Now I know what you’re thinking… bacon, eggs, beans – the works, right? Wrong. The only way to Rachel’s heart is through an Original Curry Pot Noodle with four slices of heavily buttered (the good stuff, none of that margarine crap) bread. A quick rummage through the kitchen cupboards in search of some proved unsuccessful so, safe in the knowledge Rachel wouldn’t surface before 10 AM for God Himself, I grabbed my keys and nipped to the nearest corner shop.

  I huffed to myself when I discovered the nearest shop only stocked chicken and mushroom flavour. According to Rachel, mushrooms taste like mouldy slugs (are you as intrigued as I am to know how she knows that?) so I hopped straight back in the car and drove around until I came across an Asda Superstore. As expected from a big supermarket, their shelves were fully stocked with every flavour of Pot Noodle ever to be invented. I grabbed a multipack of her favourite curry flavour and also picked up some fresh orange juice, croissants and one of those bunches of flowers stuffed into the black buckets by the door.

  I smiled widely, truly pleased with myself and my plan when I pulled up on Caroline and Bryan’s driveway. It’s weird; I’ve never wanted to make breakfast for a girl before. I mean, I have done it – but more out of courtesy than actually wanting to treat them like they’re special.

  Man, this is exciting. The thrill of the chase and all that shit.

  As expected Rachel was still in bed when I got back. I took my bag of breakfast stuff straight through to the kitchen and flipped the switch on the kettle before peeling back the foil lid on the pot noodle and switching on the grill to heat the croissants. When all the food was ready I arranged it all on a white tray and popped a few selected flowers from the bunch I just bought in a pint glass alongside her orange juice. Don’t worry – in case I wasn’t clear, I used separate glasses for the juice and the flowers.

  Balancing the tray in one hand, I knocked lightly on Rachel’s bedroom door when I reached the top of the stairs. Then I knocked a little harder. Then I gave up waiting for a response and walked in anyway.

  “What the fuck, Jared!” she blasted when I lifted my foot up to nudge her comatose body.

  “I did knock,” I said simply, enjoying the sight of her screwed up face as she tried to blink the daylight from her eyes. I perched myself on the edge of her double bed and laid the tray down next to her on the mattress.

  “What’s this?” she asked, narrowing her eyebrows.

  “Breakfast,” I answered, resisting the urge to say something sarcastic.

  “My mum never has Pot Noodles in the house,” she said, looking up at me quizzically.

  “Well, I went out and got some.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you like them.” Again she continued to stare at me with a puzzled expression.

  “And the croissants?”

  “It just seemed a little more breakfasty if I included those. ‘Cause I’ve gotta be honest, saffy… Pot Noodle for breakfast is kind of rank.” Shrugging, Rachel started digging in, folding a piece of bread in half and dipping it in the steaming noodles. “Sooo… breakfast in bed is the type of thing a good boyfriend would do, right? What’dya say? Ready to give us a chance yet?”

  “Not until you learn to make a Pot Noodle properly. There’s too much water in this,” she complained with
a faint trace of a smile.

  “I filled it to the line!”

  “Ah, you see… the right way to do it is to stop just before the line. Then you have to keep stabbing at it with a fork to make sure all the bits at the top go mushy too. But… I’ll give you an A for effort I s’pose.”

  “You know… I’ve got talents worth even more than an A if you’d just let me show you.” I leaned across the bed and propped myself up on one elbow, never taking my eyes off hers.

  “Drop it, Jaz.” She had that look in her eye again – that scared look. It didn’t suit her at all and I was determined to change it.

  “Drop what? My pants?” All that got me was a swat with a slice of bread. Naturally, the buttered side landed across my cheek. I wiped it off with a piece of kitchen-roll from Rachel’s tray, purposely leaving a little smudge along my jaw. “I can’t seem to get this bit right here,” I said, pointing to the spot on the corner of my lips. “I might need you to lick it off for me.”

  Holy Jesus, she actually DID!

  Who’d have thought morning breath mingled with curry noodles and greasy butter could smell so fucking delicious. In that moment I knew beyond any shadow of doubt that I would win this girl.

  “I think a bit went on my tongue,” I teased with a suggestive smirk.

  “Too bad.” It was worth a try I guess.

  Turns out, Rachel doesn’t like croissants with Pot Noodle (who knew?) so I ate those in just a few swift bites while she finished everything else on the tray. When we’d finished I took the tray and Rachel moved to the edge of the bed, putting her hands under each thigh and lifting her legs over the side one at a time. I opened my mouth to ask if she needed help but quickly closed it when I realised that would probably earn me a slap.

  “You’re doing it again,” Rachel said after lifting herself into her chair.

  “Doing what?” I was pretty sure I wasn’t doing anything.

  “Looking at me like you think I need help.”

  “Hey I’m not. Well… I guess I am, but not in a horrible way. I get that you have your own ways of getting everything done, I just don’t know what they are. I’m trying to learn, that’s all.”

  “Why?” she asked, sounding bewildered.

  “Because when you agree to be my girlfriend we’ll be spending a lot more time together. So… I suppose I’m trying to work out when asking you if you want help will result in a slap or a yes.”

  “Jesus, will you ever give up?”

  “Sure I will. When you say yes. You ready to say yes, saffy?”

  “Are you ready to tell me what the hell ‘saffy’ stands for?”

  “How about a deal? You say yes and I’ll tell you what it means?”

  Go on then… I’ll tell you what it means. You might have picked up that my usual greeting is ‘sugar’. You may have also noticed that Rachel isn’t a ‘sugar’ kind of girl – not at first anyway. Rachel is spicy. She’s got a bitter edge that settles into something sweet and intriguing.

  Like saffron.

  Saffron also happens to be the most expensive spice in the world and I didn’t realise until just yesterday that just like Rachel, it’s worth every penny and more besides.

  “Ugh,” she said, rolling her eyes, which were still puffy from sleep, at me. “Go on, piss off. I need to get a bath and get dressed.”

  “I’d be happy to help you with that whether you need it or not.”

  “OUT!”

  Laughing proudly, I picked up the breakfast tray and made my way back downstairs.

  This is going to be so much fun.

  Chapter Four

  Rachel

  Man, I could really do with Emily right now. I’ve never needed my best friend more in my life. I texted her a couple of days ago and briefly told her how confused I was over the whole Jared situation but I didn’t get as much back from her as I’d hoped. I know it’s understandable considering all the shit she and Dexter are dealing with over there in the States, and I’m probably being selfish… but I just wanted her to forget it all for a few minutes and help me. Call me. Skype me. Anything me. I just… need her.

  Jared is relentless. I thought he might ease off a little when we got back to London but if anything, without my parents around to stifle his efforts, he’s got worse. Tonight is New Years Eve and I’m dreading what he might have planned. I agreed to go out with him because that is what we ‘do’. We’re friends – we go out and drink together… and I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to lose him – I don’t want to lose our friendship.

  I was adjusting the height of the built in shower chair in the cubicle when I heard a song start playing out of nowhere. Holding my robe over the front of my body to cover the essentials, I made my way out of the bathroom and followed the noise. A few more lines in I realised it was Just Say Yes by Snow Patrol and as I got closer I noticed it was coming from my phone. I knew without even looking it had something to do with Jared and as I picked it up and swiped across the screen, I wasn’t surprised to find a text message from him.

  Jared: Need any help changing for our date tonight? ;-)

  Me: You touched my phone. Don’t ever touch my phone

  Me: PS. The only date today is 31st December

  Jared: U didn’t answer my question

  Me: And I’m not going 2

  Jared: I’ll pick u up in an hr

  Me: I won’t b ready in an hr. I’ve not even showered yet

  Jared: In that case I’ll be there in half ;-)

  Me: Don’t bother. I won’t let u in

  Jared: Em gave me a key and I’m not afraid to use it :D

  She didn’t. She wouldn’t. Would she?

  Me: Hey ho. Did u give Jared a key to our place? Miss u trundles xxx

  Ten minutes passed and Emily still hadn’t replied. Assuming she wasn’t going to, I showered as quickly as I could just in case Jared was telling the truth. Ever since my fall at my parents’ house I’ve been nervous showering while I’m alone in the flat. It’s ridiculous really – I’ve been doing it for years with no slip-ups (excuse the pun) whatsoever. But it’s either stink like a tramp in summer or man the fuck up and get on with it.

  Sliding my bangles further up my arm, I looked at my watch when I heard a car pull up outside. The sod was even earlier than he said he’d be. A smug grin washed over my face as I made my way towards the door after hearing the bell ring. He mustn’t have a key after all, I thought, feeling amused and relieved.

  Seriously, how glad was I that I didn’t open the door with one of my usual greetings such as ‘hey, dick wart’, when I was met with a flower delivery guy.

  “Rachel Mason?” he asked, holding a small bunch of wrapped purple peonies, the same colour as the one tattooed on my arm. I nodded and took the flowers from him, admiring up close how pretty they were. When I looked back up Flower Delivery Guy was gone, so I laid the flowers across my knee and wheeled back inside. There was a small card tucked inside the cellophane and I pulled it out sceptically – knowing who it was from but curious about what he had to say.

  Day 5 ~ Your future boyfriend x

  Day five? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Seemed I was about to find out when a few seconds later, Jared let himself into my flat, waving his key proudly in the air and looking too hot for his own good in black jeans and a white shirt with just the right amount of buttons undone at the top.

  “Fucker.”

  “Good afternoon to you too, saffy. I see you got my flowers?”

  “Day five?”

  “Today is the fifth day you’ve still not said yes. If I were smarter I’d have started sending them on day one. But I’m not… so we’re starting at day five.”

  “Well as long as you know you’re going to end up bankrupt,” I said dismissively, trying to ignore the warm feeling cocooning my heart.

  “Nah. It won’t take that long,” he replied confidently. I simply shook my head, amused at his sureness. “You ready?”

  “My hair is wet. Do I
look ready?”

  “You look beautiful.” A smile emerged on my lips without permission, even though I knew he was probably bullshitting me as part of his master plan. “Let me do your hair.”

  “My hair. You… want to do… my hair?” What the…

  “Sure,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly.

  “Um… let me think. How about, fuck no!”

  “I’m doing your hair.”

  “You are not doing my hair!” I protested, gripping my hand-rims and wheeling away from him.

  “I’ll catch you, saffy. I can run faster than you can wheel,” he teased.

  “Seriously, I don’t get what’s gotten into you lately!” I stopped, throwing my hands in the air. Damn, I was laughing. I was supposed to be acting pissed off.

  “Well I know what’ll be getting into you soon enough.” He strode over to me with a wicked grin illuminating his irritatingly gorgeous face. Then he bent down so his mouth was level with my ear, and when his breath swept across my heated cheeks my breath caught. Damn. “Me,” he whispered throatily.

  Ah, fuck. I’m so screwed.

  Well, I gave in; I let Jared do my hair. He played around with the pink strands for a while before blasting them off with the hairdryer and then brushing it through with his fingers. That’s why, when we came to leave the house, it was piled neatly in a bun on the back of my head courtesy of my own hands. Don’t ever tell him I said this, but I had so much fun watching his face twist in frustration through the mirror when he couldn’t get it to do what he wanted.

  I don’t live too far from the city centre so we decided to walk into town rather than pay for overpriced taxis. When we reached the end of the path leading up to my flat Jared moved behind me and started pushing me forwards. The weird thing was – I didn’t stop him. I’ve always had this thing about people pushing me. It’s almost like they’re quashing my independence. Yet… it didn’t even occur to me to ask him to stop and I have no idea why.